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It was actually magical to share creativity in an egalitarian way

with people whose ages

spanned six decades.

hadn’t yet thought out what he would do once he had our attention. e room grew so quiet that the adults’ smiles were almost audible, and I began to fear that the pressure might be too much for Arun. Suddenly, he held up his rubber snake and began swinging it wildly overhead. “Whoa!” said Beatrice in awe. en, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Arun began a spontaneous snake-charming dance and, in a weird little voice, began to sing, evidently in Parseltongue. Gurjinder, giggling, leaned over to me and whispered, “Now that’s freaky!”

As he got high ves and applause, Arun beamed. What was lovely was that Gurjinder hadn’t prompted him to take part—in fact, hadn’t pressured him at all. Arun had his own organic urge to perform, and the spirit of it in ated us all.

Of course, some people are more watchers than performers, and for them, having a receptive audience is crucial. If there’s any pressure, any hope that such a child—or grownup—may have of joining in next time around will be dashed. So here was the nal Freaky Salon rule: ) No begging or pushing. is is not an exercise in public humiliation. If you want to encourage a love of arts and creativity, it behooves you to make the environment exhilarating and easy to slip into and out of, with no great stakes attached. No one wants it pointed out that they should have spoken louder or smiled more. Imagine how you would feel if, a er being pushed to perform in the rst place, your performance was then evaluated. Where do you think that child will be next time you throw a salon? Probably upstairs in her room— or watching like a hawk so she can pick apart someone else’s performance.