Stop, Drop, and Roll with Your Glimmer

Fellow blogger and accomplished artist Dreama Tolle Perry  of Paris (Kentucky!) published a piece today about creative glimmers and how the more we practice catching them, the more we will see.

She says, "Rarely it seems does a plan, a painting, a song, a dance, plunk itself before us fully completed -- -- dressed for the party. It first comes as a shadow, a glimmer, a thought so tiny that if we are too busy, to caught up in the rush, to noisy in our thoughts, we will only catch it on our peripheral radar--and too late, when we are ready to turn our head and focus--the blip on the radar will have disappeared." (Read more on her blogpost, here.)

I know what she means. Wonderful ideas often flash through my head like crazy movie trailers, and I lose them if I don't scratch them down somewhere. Well, sometimes I even lose what I scratch down, but I'm trying.  A while back, a good chunk of a poem came to me while I was in the shower. Now that's not so amazing, as my poems are on the short side. (I share some of them when I'm brave enough.)  But I rushed through rinsing off, grabbed my bathrobe and wrote it down while still wet. Those particular words had come to me so perfectly, I knew I'd never remember them exactly that way if I waited.

Ya gotta stop, drop, and roll with your glimmer! You can't be too busy if you want to be creative. Pablo Picasso said,  "Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up."  What is it that young ones have that we adults lose?  Time to play, time to think, and a certain lack of fear over what others might think. I think these elements create a perfect storm for artistic expression. And innovation.

I would love to post here my daughter's first self-portrait, created when she was somewhere in that magical time of four or five-years-old. The lines are loose and effortless, the curls she made bounce happily, and the smile she drew reflected the laughter in her own eyes. But she has grown out of that little bit of heaven; she seems to think it looks baby-ish, and doesn't want me to show it.  Yet this is one of my favorite pieces of art.

We are all artists of some sort -- we all can learn to catch those creative glimmers that spark on the edge of our consciousness, mix them with the peculiarities of our own soul, and then create something that only each of us, as an individual, can create.

“Creativity is...seeing something that doesn’t exist already. You need to find out how you can bring it into being, and that way be a playmate with God.” – Michele Shea.

How, and how often, do you capture your glimmers? Share in the comments, below!

Organic Writing: Just Dive Into That Blank Page (Says This Neglectful Blogger)

My goodness, I lost October!  Happy November, everyone.  This is the first day of NaNoWriMo and, crazily, earlier I had thought about participating in it this year.  However, I don't believe that the story I was working on a while ago would be anywhere near novel length.  Furthermore, my psyche is tired. I'm uninspired. And mired...in some other things this season.  But the following is something I posted on Facebook, where it received a lot of positive responses.  So here it is, in case anyone is still reading my little blog. Comments are encouraged!

My daughter's been all stressed out about a 500-700 word essay that's due tomorrow. Since she had been really sick today, I told her to lie down and dictate the essay to me -- to just spit it out, and we'd clean it up later. (This method seemed particularly apropos, considering her physical state.) She had been thinking about what she wanted to write for several days, so this was easy for her.

She began to talk, and I typed down what she said. After some starts and stops and my reminding her of the subject and point of the essay, we got into it. Quite often, her thoughts would start to wander and I'd stop and say, What's your point? (I'm so mean.) Then I'd read her the how and why of the directions again. We'd continue. I stopped her again with Ugh! when she got hokey or sticky sweet -- in other words, inauthentic.

Then, *boom*, we were at 564 words. I asked her about why she chose this particular topic and how she felt about it, and her answer provided an tidy ending to her essay. Sure, it needs a little editing, but that's the easy part.

The sense of dread over starting a writing assignment and the "blank page" is so much worse than the actual writing. Here are some things we discussed tonight:

1. Understand the assignment.
2. Write like you talk. Edit later.
3. Don't get lost in minutiae.
4. When stuck or wandering down rabbit holes, continue to ask, "What's the point?"
5. Do not ever write just to fill space.
6. Always write authentically. You can fudge details to move the story along, sure (unless you're billing the story as 100% factual), but don't fake thoughts, feelings, emotions, motives. Don't play "nice." Be real.
7. Answering the "why" question (why I wrote about this... how and why this story affected me) is a nice way to wrap up an essay.
8. It's often easier to write (or rewrite) the introduction to your piece last. Just jump in anywhere to begin.

This is organic writing. It's different than the way writing usually has been taught, which is: "You must write an introductory paragraph, three body paragraphs, and a summary paragraph in which you restate the introductory paragraph 'using different words.' [Gah! Why should you use different words if the first ones communicated exactly what you wanted?] Each paragraph must have five sentences, including a topic sentence. Do not start a sentence with 'and' or 'but.' Do not end a sentence with a preposition. OKAY, GO! Write about anything you want." No wonder people freak out. Form (sentences, paragraphs) should follow function (communicating ideas), not the other way around.

More Fun with Poetry

In the past few weeks I've written several poems, but I have not posted them here yet because I want to take some photos to go with them.  Alas, the days and weeks continue to float by, filled with other commitments. But today I felt like doing an easy, fill-in-the-blank poem, and it was so much fun that I want to share it with you and invite you add your own fill-in-the-blank poem in the comments!   This poem generator is called All I Want, and here's my version:

All I want is someone to give me chocolate.

Someone to provide an endless supply.

All I want is someone to give me chocolate.

Someone to give it to me at a moment's notice, and

Someone to hide the wrapper evidence.

All I want is someone to give me chocolate.

Someone to wrap it pretty when I am sad,

Someone to eat it with, and

Someone to buy me some more.

All I want is someone to give me chocolate

Someone to make its calories disappear

Someone to tell me that there's still some on my lips.

Someone to laugh when I say I'm saving that for later. ;-)

Someone to kiss it off of them anyway.

All I want...is a chocolate enabler.

Okay, you're turn!  Go here, fill in your words, create the poem, and then paste it in the comments! (If you don't like that one, there are other ideas to choose from on the left of the page.)

U2 and Pittsburgh!

On July 26th, my kids and I went to the U2360 concert in Pittsburgh, PA.  We had looked forward to this concert for 1-1/2 years.  We were not disappointed!  We had tickets to go last year, but 2010 was the year for emergency back surgeries. (Bono's, and mine.... Pitiful how I try to find that common ground with a rock star, eh?)  

The last time I went to a U2 concert was on an autumn night in 1987 at the old Cleveland Stadium. Four Irish lads creating rock as only they can, including everything from Party Girl to Gloria, with Bono's soaring, soulful praise:

Gloria
In te domine
Gloria
Exultate
Gloria
Gloria
Oh, Lord, loosen my lips.

Yep, I was hooked, big time, and long before most of America knew who they were. I've been a fan since 1985 when a college boyfriend gave me some of their early music on cassette. The band has often made me dream of going back to Ireland to maybe dance along its southern coast again (like in 1986), or meet with some friends for a Guinness, endless talk, and a few songs.  Maybe wander about the countryside taking photos, capturing stories.  Ireland is soulful, misty and mystical.   It has a rich history as a nation of scholars, and is one of the first (some say the first) to produce literature in the vernacular.  (See www.irishlanguage.net/irish/literature.asp.)   Some good-looking Irishmen, great beer, good music, and great reads?  I'm there already....at least in my mind.

Anyway, while healing from my own back surgery and looking forward to the show, I started reading more about the band, paying particular attention to the interplay between band members and their creative process.  It seems they are successful because they have faith in themselves, each other and their art; they check their individuals egos at the door; and they are committed to each other and to the process.  A process that includes, as Andrew Robinson relates, "spend[ing] days in the studio slogging through various soundscapes. Most days are long, tiring, and frustrating. It is common for the four band members to end the day with absolutely nothing to show for it. But if they remain committed to this arduous, mundane process long enough something brilliant begins to emerge." (Quote in larger context, here.  Robinson's quote is part of his larger discussion of the documentary film It Might Get Loud and the creative process in general. )  In other words, they're just like most of us - they have to work hard to get somewhere.  Still.  Writer's block?  Write through it. (I'm talking to myself, here.) 

I find the description above awfully close to one of my favorite quotes, Commit to the process; detach from the outcome.  In music, writing, painting, whatever it is you like to do, just do it, and tell your internal critic to shut up. It's not all going to be good.  But do it because you must.  Do it because it's in your DNA. Do it for the joy that comes from using and sharing God-given gifts. U2's art is often based on conversations with God.  And joy seems to ooze from their pores when they play.

The view of Pittsburgh from our Heinz Stadium seats.

Spaceship has landed!  Gorgeous.

Writing from Your Own Emptiness

I have just found yet another reason why I'm drawn to the boys from Dublin. 
I remember as a child, growing up in Ireland. We were taught the poetry of William Butler Yeats. I must have been ten years old. The teacher said, "and then Yeats went through his dry period. He had a writing block and he couldn't write about anything." I remember putting up my hand, and saying "Well, why didn't he write about that?" And the teacher just looked at me and said, "Oh, be quiet." But that is exactly the answer to the writing block. You write about your own emptiness, and we've done that for years now.
~ Bono   http://www.ascap.com/jam/feature_artists/u2.html