By Michael Mark, Creative Director/CEO @ NYCA
Quietly taking her place among the circle, Lynne bends open the book and turns us into children.
She more than reads; she breathes life into Harold and the Purple Crayon and the 40 people of NYCA.
This is the true story of how creative power trumps all. It’s based in fact. And it’s a ritual we do every year, whenever.
However many we are at that moment, we sit on the carpet, quiet, some eyes closed, various stages of smiles smiling. It’s a cookies and milk, endless sky, puffy-white-cloud NYCA moment.
To see the world as a child is to be fully alive to invention.
Lynne’s voice rises, vibrates, slows, floats, pitches and loosens the titles. The years melt away and unfurls grip on the baggage, and creativity rises, weightless, colored in all colors.
Playfulness and possibility and openness and agelessness and measurelessness.
“And” is a big word here. It’s an energizer. A window opener. A mind cracker.
And this happens and then this could happen, yeah, and then, and…
“And” kicks “but”’s butt, and dances merrily over “no”, and can’t even hear “can’t”’s doubts.
It is just so very easy to be old. To know; to be sure, safe, right.
Lynne takes her work seriously to make us young. She arches an eyebrow and her neck narrows and cranes a foot longer, “And so Harold…”
She does this so we ask why the night is darker than day, and how to build integrated communications platforms that perform beyond expectations with less time, smaller budgets.
She makes sure we question what we have been taught. What has been proven. To disbelieve in barriers. So when it appears we have no way out, we all know all we have to do is reach to the NYCAer next to us and borrow the purple crayon.