Over the last several days High Society talked with many folks. He thoroughly enjoyed the conversations they had, the topics discussed. It opened up those thought avenues just a bit more. It insights the mind and ensnares the senses. Everyone can appreciate that from time to time.

So High Society though of another one to spark the fire that burns in each of us.

"What are those things in life that spark your creativity? Sparks that imagination?"

"Is it painting? Is it walking? It it sitting round and talking? Taking a walk down a snow bathed path on a cool winter evening? Is it living for the now? Is it getting lost entirely?"

"What works for you. How do you bring out your inner inspiration?"

High Society was excited to hear what drove that bead in others. 

What sparks my creativity?

Cherry took a moment to think about it. So many answers came to her mind when she began to think. Choosing to share a few she carried on.

My emotions. Without them I would have nothing to draw creativity around.

Conversations. Without these I would not have ideas or thoughts, discussions or otherwise that could trigger anything to create a creative piece of thought.

People. The people around me that make me want to create things. Make things interesting.

This all helps bring out my inner inspiration. The creative sides of me.

Lucky_Seven fiddled with his lighter, fingering the lid; open, close, open, close. He had already lit his cigarette as he stood, brown eyes observing the fella who had called himself HighSociety. Certainly, it was a question that had caused the gears within his own head to turn - not even his own family had decided to pose such a question.

It made him think in a different way, away from the life he was being pulled into; even though some would have argued that Lucky had folded to fate's hand. With a free hand, Lucky_Seven drew his hand through his dark hair, his other busy flicking the molts off the end of the burning stick. It was not his intention to have left such a silence hanging between them.

"Can't say I've been all that creative, ya know?" He asked, rhetorically.

Lucky was still thinking, however.

His blue eyes watching with a slightly apathetic gaze, as he flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. He didn't do poetic, he couldn't do poetic. He flicked the lid of his lighter open and closed again, his focus returning to HighSociety. "I wouldn't have put it that way, but yeah. Guess walking does it for me."

Lana overheard the conversation from a distance away, and as she walked closer to the group that was forming, she thought about the questions posed. She waited until the last person had said his piece before putting in her own two cents worth.

"You mention three things. Creativity, imagination, and inspiration. Now, in my own personal opinion, inspiration can come from all sorts of things in your environment, including the people you choose to have in your life, down to the brand of cigarette you smoke. Creativity and imagination, on the other hand, I think are completely inherent qualities that must come from within. Someone could inspire you to look inside yourself for creativity, or imagination, but in the end, it must already be there, somewhere.

That being said, I like to paint while listening to classical music. The music helps me tap into my inner creativity and imagination. It is very therapeutic as well." 

It was Friday. Finally. Victoria and her roommate, Alice, sat in their living room pouring over the new issue of Vogue. It wasn't that Victoria couldn't afford her own place. Her boss, Shaggs paid fairly and kept taxes at a very manageable level. When Victoria found herself in Vegas for the foreseeable future she didn't know anyone. Sure, she knew her boss and his right hand TonyCastelli and she was just starting to get to know others in the crew. Living alone after so many years in past felt lonely. 

Victoria knew that the only way to experience a city was make friends with someone who knew the lay of the land. She searched the classifieds for anyone looking for a tenant and trusted her gut instinct. Victoria lucked out with Alice who was a dancer at a very high end strip club. The two got along famously and neither judged the others way of life. 

"V!" Alice exclaimed as she looked up from last months Vogue issue. "I know we said we'd stay in today with wine and fashion, but look at this dress. I must have it."

Where Victoria was more quiet and reserved, Alice made her presence known wherever or with whatever she was doing. Victoria leaned from the chase lounge and looked at the dress Alice was fawning over.

You called that dress ugly last week. Said the cream color wouldn't look good against your skin tone. 

Victoria replied to her flat mate. Alice goffed and stood from her seat on the couch. 

"I would never. That dress would go perfectly with those shoes I picked up while we were in Los Angeles." 

Victoria pursed her lips and watched Alice walk into the bathroom only to start applying mascara to her eyes instead of to her bedroom to pull the shoes from the closet. 

"It's decided. We are going out. If we can't find the dress then I'm sure we'll be able to find some trouble." Alice said from their small bathroom. "Do you know what your boss is doing tonight? He is so dreamy."

Shaggs? 

Victoria asked. 

"No, no, the other one."

Mr. Castelli? Victoria asked curiously.

"Yes! I could stare into that man's eyes all day."

Do I even want to know how you know Tony?

"I was out to dinner last week with Fred...or George...." Alice waved her free hand as she couldn't remember her date's name. "Well whatever his name was, he took me to Tony's place in Summerlin. Taste of New York or something. It was delicious."

Alice walked out of the bathroom putting bobby pins into the bun she had just formed her hair into. Victoria started to lean back onto the lounge chair. 

"Oh no you don't. You are coming out with me."

Exactly thirty five minutes later, the two women were outside their apartment hailing down a cab to take them downtown. Exactly 7 mins after that they were walking the streets. Alice was distracted easily by the lights, the people, the music swimming it's way out of restaurants so it was Victoria that led the pair to a gathering crowd. Alice gave her a look that pretty much said 'This? I want to shop' with a pout. Victoria replied with a smile.  The girls listened to the conversation HighSociety was having with other members of the world about creativity and what motivated yours. 

This is an easy question to answer for my friend here. Victoria motioned to Alice. What sparks her creativity? Fashion. I was looking forward to a nice and relaxing...

"Shush."

Alice spoke up. 

As for myself, it's a number of things. Friends, family, good food or good music. Have you ever heard a tune that just inspired you to get up and dance?

Alice raised her hand with a smile. 

Exactly. I'm going to have to agree with Lana_Lang. Inspiration comes from all sorts of things. 
 

Randle listened to various people speak. A wry smile played about his lips the whole time, he found the conversation amusing. To Randle, the answer was incredibly simple, and being completely over-complicated by those who had spoken before him. Deciding the time had come to reveal his secret, he stepped forward, and took a bow.

"Creativity, ladies and gentlemen, is simple.", he paused, and raised a half-empty whisky bottle in his right hand.

"The more I sup, the more creative I become. Bottled creativity, Ireland's gift to the world."

Randle flashed his trademark grin, and shot a wink.

Sullivan chuckled and nodded along with everyone, but stepping up after Randle, he had to applaud.

"Bravo, good sir. I do notice a lot of us with bottled creativity. Many of the greatest minds find their spark when in an altered state. Either opiates, hallucinogens, booze, or any other kind of altered reality can bring out the greatest of all. Why I had a friend that became a wonderful artist when they were on a hallucinogen. Unfortunately, their mind also became their own prison... Lost them some time ago. Sad, truly. There work is still in some of my journals somewhere."

He smiled as his mind fell back into memories long past for a moment.

"For me, I would have to say -everything- is an inspiration. My world is altered on its own. Within everything, I hear a song. That is an inspiration. In everything I see, I see inspiration. It truly is in EVERYTHING this world of ours has to offer. We all look at things differently. Most of us are told what to think of things. Free yourself from that, though, and you may see wonder where no one else does."

He brought his attention back forward.

"Take my occupation for example. Most people see death as a bad thing, my family saw the money. Everyone needs help with death at some point." He shrugged, "We help with that happily. From picking caskets to placing your loved ones in the ground to be remembered forever. Anyway, sorry for rambling!"

Sully smiled and waved dismissing himself. "Hope I made sense!"

Strolling down the streets in his new suit which was now soiled, covered in sweat and blood due to a recent fight. Insomnia stops walking near a crowd of people huddled around a man. The man was speaking to the crowd about a topic that peaked Insomnia's interest. Waiting for his moment to speak he stepped forward slightly grinning.

What inspires me?

Insomnia takes a moment to light his cigarette, taking a long drag from it as he ponders the thought.

Fighting! How much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight? It's a good way to break free and learn to adapt to your weaknesses while improving your durability and stamina.

Smirking he takes another drag off his cigarette before exhaling.

I've personally learned in my time after attending various meetings, listening to others speak of their psychological issues, diseases and addictions that it is a great way to spark that imagination of "what if" placing yourself in their shoes.

Looking over at HighSociety Insomnia scratches his chin realizing he might of missed the discussion but he never heard what his own inspirations or imagination were in life. 

Tony had been making his way down the street, somewhat buzzed from a good time at the bar. He overhears HighSociety's question that he posed to everyone from his street corner. Creativity? He hadn't much thought about that when he had told his story of getting into this thing of ours. He did suppose that it had to come from somewhere though...

Well as a mafioso, a lot of my creativity comes from my own experiences or even things that my ancestors wrote in their journal entries. I also feel that some of my creativity comes from my hopes for the future and what I wish to see happen. I mean, we all tend to have a thought about what's next in our lives and what we want to accomplish. We all probably day dream a bit about what could be or what could have been.

So yeah, I think a lot of my creativity spawns from past experience and the "day dreams" I have of tomorrow.

Tony lights up a cigar and heads on his way.

Beenan listened people talk about what inspires them and how they explore their creativity. It is interesting for her because she is not a creative person but she is a day dreamer. That is her point  about “What are those things in life that spark your Creativity? Sparks that imagination?”

She is waiting for her turn to talk, she steps up although she is nervous because this is the first time she talked on the crowded street.

I think Listen and Observe are the way I got inspired.I Learn from somebody’s mistake or  listen somebody’s advice sometimes it gives me some inspiration to explore my creativity. I also love to do random things because sometimes it gives us unexpected experience .The unexpected experience could give us inspiration to  explore more our creativity so we could be more imaginative

She squizes her cold hands feels nervous because too much eyes on her before continue her words.

Im a day dreamer, So it so easy for me to imagine the things but sometimes hard for me to be creative so I Learned from what I listened and observed to make my imagination become a lilttle bit real..

She steps back and gives another person’s turn to share.