One Thing
“I can’t get behind the ambition to be ‘discovered’ as much as I can get behind the ambition to write beautifully and honorably and steadfastly. Here’s what I believe about creativity. I believe that creativity is a living force that thrums wildly through this world and expresses itself through us. I believe that talent (the force by which ephemeral creativity gets manifested into the physical world through our hands) is a mighty and holy gift. I believe that, if you have a talent (or even if you think you do, or maybe even if you just hope you do), that you should treat that talent with the highest reverence and love.
“Don’t flip out, in other words, and murder your gift through narcissism, insecurity, addiction, competitiveness, ambition or mediocrity. Frankly – don’t be a jerk. Just get busy, get serious, get down to it and write something, for heaven’s sake. Try to get out of your own way. Creativity itself doesn’t care at all about results – the only thing it craves is the PROCESS. Learn to love the process and let whatever happens next happen, without fussing too much about it. Work like a monk, or a mule, or some other representative metaphor for diligence. Love the work. Destiny will do what it wants with you, regardless. Just love the work.”
~Elizabeth Gilbert
Joy
"We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves." ~Buddha
Reaching
"One must exhaust reality, transcend it, in order to reach, to try to reach, that absolute which is made of the atoms of the relative." ~Carlos Fuentes
Leaving
[Plumeria in Kauai, Hawaii :: Taken in 2005]
I am headed off to watch two beautiful, creative souls join their lives together on a beach across the Pacific. The last time I was in Kauai I went swimming with a group of giant turtles in crystal clear water. I hope they're in the mood for some company again this week.
Five Things
1. Isn't this the greatest interpretation of Klimt's The Kiss? Kate Gabrielle's work is clever and quirky.
2. There's a new blog in town! If you were at the June Squam Art Workshops you saw her skipping around with a video camera – visit Marlene White's new blog!
3. …and if you're going to the September Squam Art Workshops, you just might run into this lovely soul over at blissful * thinking.
4. Sophie Jacobson Photography, recently spotted at The Rose Cafe in Venice.
5. Perfect Day Surf Camp looks like a blast.
Digging
[Taken in New Zealand :: March 2009]
Yesterday evening I experienced one of those flashes of inspiration that reminded me the creative process is something I will never fully control or understand (thank goodness). It is true that sitting down to do the work – whether I am in a creative mood or not – is the method I use most to lure my muses into my studio, but every so often I have moments where a sudden burst of energy, words and ideas flashes into my mind and I have to go immediately to work. I have to stop doing the dishes and run to m keyboard; I have to get up out of bed, find the nearest scrap of paper, and write down my thoughts. If my "normal" studio days nourish me like milk and oatmeal – giving me what I need to keep going at a steady, sustained pace – the unexpected bursts of inspiration feed me like spinach in a Popeye cartoon. If I can give in to these moments, and let the ideas pour out of me – even if all I can manage are messy scribbles – I continue to float on that high for days.
I had one of those moments last night, when I was hungry and worn out, having just spent two hours in our yard digging up thick, hard soil, planting a dozen plants, laying down bark and hauling all the empty compost bags and plastic pots to the recycling bin. My day should have been done, and I should have been on my way to a shower. But instead, I came inside and immediately went to my keyboard. I simply had to get certain thoughts out of my head for fear that if I
didn't release them they would be lost forever, and all the insights
that had just come to me as I held fat, squirmy worms – taking me back
to childhood when my favorite morning activity was to dig deep in the
ground to hold these curious creatures – would fade like mist as the
sun makes its way through the clouds. So there I was. Dirty. Sore.
Writing.
I began my morning with a declaration that I was ready for a day of writing. Ready to dive in! Dig deep! Push my limits! Fast forward to 1:30pm, when I typed my first word of the day, and I only managed to edit a small portion of the piece I'm currently working on. By 3:30pm, I was out the door, headed to the nursery to fill my car with treasures for our garden. I felt rather deflated, like I had let myself down by allowing myself to get distracted by all kinds of other work instead of taking advantage of an empty day on my calendar to write. I said I would write all day, didn't get started until after lunch, couldn't get in the flow, and gave up. I headed to the nursery thinking my Day of Writing had been a total bust.
Not only did my writing day become productive around 6:30pm, but when I initially started writing I started here, on Typepad, thinking it would be a great blog entry. So I got it all out, saved it to post today, and headed upstairs to take a shower. In the shower, my mind kept churning, and as soon as I was done, I wrapped a towel around me and went back to my keyboard without drying off, having to get out even more, and before too long I realized these thoughts were too much for a blog entry. The piece kept growing, expanding and evolving, and it then went from being a potential blog entry to being a more substantial essay, and I am now thinking it could be one of the chapters I submit with my book proposal. After brainstorming chapter ideas for three months and starting dozens of drafts, here I am, on the cusp of my self-imposed deadline with an idea that had not yet occurred to me, that could not have occurred to me until yesterday. These thoughts came to me at a particular time and place, and I was able to make important connections between certain experiences only then, and not a moment sooner. Perfect timing. On a day when I thought I had let my writer muse down.
It just so happened that yesterday my lovely and wise friend Elizabeth reminded me that my writing is happening all the time, even when I'm not writing. Mere hours after she said this to me, this truth played itself out as I worked on our garden and felt a jolt of inspiration from the heavens. My creative energy isn't turned on and off like a light switch – it is always burning, always giving off light. When a surge flows through it, creating sparks and pops, my job is to honor it, and let the light flow through me, where it can feed all the other currents moving across the world, perhaps creating new sparks in India, in New Zealand, in a house down the street.
