Emotional Excess & Creativity

The students have returned from their long winter break, and things are very busy around the University this week with meetings and appointments throughout the day. It's been difficult to steal away, but I wanted to give a little update to last week's post about setting aside writing time as part of my Daily Routines, and my hope pledge, to commit more time to my creative life this year.

Here's what I observed about last week:

The evenings after work are tough. While I did make some time to go back and read through work I've already written, making small edits and tweaks here and there, it was also the case that two of the evenings last week were devoted to other obligations--a much needed haircut, cleaning the bathroom, and a few other perfectly unglamorous, but necessary tasks.

I also learned this: I am good for an hour at most after work and then I need to be done for the day.

But, the good news is this: I wrote on both Saturday and Sunday for a stretch of time (even longer on Sunday--about three hours), and I believe I have a piece (one that's about a year old now) finally ready for submission.

And this feels very, very good.

In my ongoing pursuit of words, voices, conversations and advice about how artists find balance and nourish and nurture their craft, I stumbled upon some of the coolest pieces collected by Maria Papova, the author and curator of all things creative at www.Brainpickings.org.

Maria devotes quite a bit of page space to creative collaboration and the meditations of artists on the practice of feeding one's mind, heart, spirit, and creative energy. There's so much good stuff on this site (I'm excited to keep exploring), but one piece that really stuck with me is from Anais Nin, called, "Why Emotional Excess is Essential to Creativity." Yes! Because it is. This is a beautiful excerpt from the fourth volume of Nin's diary:

You must not fear, hold back, count or be a miser with your thoughts and feelings. It is also true that creation comes from an overflow, so you have to learn to intake, to imbibe, to nourish yourself and not be afraid of fullness. The fullness is like a tidal wave which then carries you, sweeps you into experience and into writing. Permit yourself to flow and overflow, allow for the rise in temperature, all the expansions and intensifications. Something is always born of excess: great art was born of great terrors, great loneliness, great inhibitions, instabilities, and it always balances them. If it seems to you that I move in a world of certitudes, you, par contre, must benefit from the great privilege of youth, which is that you move in a world of mysteries. But both must be ruled by faith.

Check out more brainpickings here. Hope your week is off to a happy, inspired start.

Cheers!

(top photo: www.workspaces.tumblr.com--thanks!)

Shadow Play

When Joe and I were recently in our favorite coffee shop to pick up some thank you cards, I also discovered this beautiful collection of art: Kinfolk Magazine's winter issue. I know I've seen Kinfolk before, I believe I've admired their work online at some point, but never had I seen the publication in person, and let me tell you, in case you're new to Kinfolk too:  it's so very lovely. 

On this particular outing, the sun had already set for the day, it was dark and cold outside, and I was feeling a little sad that my short winter break was nearing its end. But alas, I stumbled upon the perfect cards and this magazine, and felt a wave of caffeinated excitement, often attendant with any Atticus visit. The people in this cafe are welcoming, funny, and easy to chat with, and the space is super sweet and cozy. 

Picture this: exposed brick walls, low lights, the smell of good espresso, and (mostly) good natured, local Spokane folk milling about, reading, or sipping drinks with friends--it's a warm sight to behold. And yes, under its influence, I tend to enjoy more flights-of-fancy purchases than I might anywhere else. 

It's okay. I love the owners and I love what they do for this town.

But I'm not actually writing about our beloved Atticus today (okay, I am, but not exclusively). What I didn't notice until I began leafing through the magazine at home, is that probably three quarters of the way through there's a feature on Solstice traditions and folklore--specifically surrounding the mysterious, dancing lights that certain northern countries witness during the coldest, shortest days of the year:

“They believed the aurora was caused by the reflections of light off the scales of large shoals of fish”

The thing is, I have a fascination and deep admiration for the art of shadow puppetry--its stark, silvery nature feels both haunting and arresting--and in a lovely pairing between folklore and this ancient form of storytelling, the fine editors of Kinfolk share the varied origin stories for how the Northern Lights came to be. Here are a few:

Finnish

This northern nation still calls the aurora borealis revontulet, which literally translates to “fox fire.” Legend says that an arctic fox dashed across the tundra swiping snow up into the sky, while others claim his bushy tail caused sparks when brushing the peaks of tall mountains.

Norse

According to Norse mythology, female spirits called Valkyries chose who lived and died in battle. They escorted the most heroic who fell to Valhalla, the “hall of the slain,” which was overseen by Odin. The Vikings believed the lights were the reflection of the Valkyries’ armor and shields as they led the dead to their final resting place.

Danish

Danish legend speaks of the swans that held a competition to see who could fly the farthest north. Some birds became caught in the ice and tried to escape by flapping their wings. This flurry produced the waves of the aurora borealis.

See the gorgeous slide show and read a few more tales here.

I have a dream of playing with shadow puppetry and pairing it with one of my own or one of my favorite short stories some day. I've witnessed it before at an AWP (Associate Writing Programs) Conference a few years ago, and I was truly moved--it felt like such a breakthrough for adding this gorgeous element to one's narrative.

Seeing it here in Kinfolk is a treat, and a source of renewed inspiration for giving it a try someday soon.

Happy Friday to you! May you enjoy a restful weekend.

(top photo: indypendent-thinking.tumblr.com)

Scatter: Artist Reflections

19. Never!

                                Image credits: Korneel Jeuken

Salman Rushdie has these words in response to Wednesday's attack on the offices of Charlie Hebdo:

Religion, a mediaeval form of unreason, when combined with modern weaponry becomes a real threat to our freedoms. This religious totalitarianism has caused a deadly mutation in the heart of Islam and we see the tragic consequences in Paris today. I stand with Charlie Hebdo, as we all must, to defend the art of satire, which has always been a force for liberty and against tyranny, dishonesty and stupidity. ‘Respect for religion’ has become a code phrase meaning ‘fear of religion.’ Religions, like all other ideas, deserve criticism, satire, and, yes, our fearless disrespect.

Other artist responses:

2. Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

        Image credits: Banksy

15.

         Image credits: Orgulloy Satisfaccion

23. Without humor we are all dead

    Image credits: New York Times

See more powerful reactions here.

As I reflect on yesterday's attack and the tragic chronology of violence we've witnessed over the years in the name of religion, I have many questions--indeed many more questions than answers.

What I know and believe is that this work--the socially engaged, critical expression of all artists--helps to keep us from turning completely inward, from shutting down and retreating into the narrow confines of our own limited thinking, helps us stave off complacency, and does ultimately promote change.

I stand with Charlie Hebdo and I hope for peace.

(Images via www.demilked.com--thank you.)

Daily Routines: Part Rant / Part Plan

I've been mesmerized by this chart found in Mason Currey's book Daily Rituals: How Artists Work. What I find admirable {and hopefully imitable} are the incredible blocks of time these artists devote or devoted to their "creative work." Look at all of that pink! Perhaps even more interesting is when and where the green "day job" time takes place. Some of these artists weave their day jobs into their schedules in bursts of a few hours at a time, others manage to make their creative work their full-time job, Okay, duly noted. This will be my next book purchase.

It's often said that one of the most important skills to hone as a writer has little to do with the craft itself, but the sheer discipline to devote time to the craft everyday.

And it's the real kicker of the trade: how does one call herself a writer if she doesn't make time to do it? Ouch. There's truth in this of course, but there's also the truth that no single artist is going to have exactly the same creative rhythm as another, and there may be large gaps here and there. I take comfort in this. I think it's also important to be kind and patient with one's self. There's really no other option when thinking about time, the passing of it, and the unfinished story or novel that sits, waiting for us to return...

While I'm not one who typically fixates on New Year's resolutions, there certainly is something to be said for periodically taking stock of what's working and what's maybe not working so well in a daily/weekly/monthly routine, and determining where change might take place.

As a writer and the occasional crafter, the question of how to find balance between the work I do for money from 8-5, and the work I do to for me, is one I face everyday. It's true for me that when I work on my stories and make a little headway, or particularly when I start something new and feel the first few lines pulsing on the page, a narrative slowly unfolding, sometimes three, four hours of writing tucked under my belt--this is when I know through and through that I've done my day's work. I sleep better, I feel lighter, happier, and more peaceful. I feel like me. When I write, I know that I'm nourishing a very important part of myself, which is a way of honoring who I am.

What is also true, is that at the end of a work day at my 8-5 job, I don't have much left in me for creative output. What I crave is a glass of wine, reading my current book group book, catching up on my favorite blogs, and most importantly, eating food and sharing my day's stories and experiences with my partner. And this is just fine. It's wonderful in fact. The balance of my current workday can easily be broken up into the following pattern: wake up, work, exercise, work, come home, unwind, sleep (hopefully). One could look at my pattern and say, "Yes. That's what it means to be a contributing member of society. You do those things in that order." Fine and good.

But something big is certainly missing for me when my creative time is absent.

Our daily rhythms are essential to our sense of well-being. When key elements such as sleep or food or say um, creative release, are thrown off or are suddenly removed, we often don't feel like ourselves. We don't recognize ourselves in the sequence of our own day, which can be a very, very disheartening experience.

Sometimes I imagine it like this: If someone were to hold a mirror up to me at any given point throughout the day, how many times would I see my reflection and say, "Yeah, totally. This is me. This is what I do. I love this," and how often might I respond, "Oh, yeah. This doesn't really feed me, you know, spiritually, creatively, or otherwise, but it's what feeds me. I earn money for this."

All of this to say that when I really take stock, it's evident to me that weekends and holidays, and anytime maybe in the middle of the night when I'm not sleeping (because perhaps I'm restless and feeling as though my day's work isn't quite done), are all times when my creative self needs some time. And this isn't simple. Truthfully, I'm kind of a busybody, and when I've been at my desk for long stretches of time during the week, what I crave less than anything, is more time at my desk, even if it's for writing this very important-to-me thing.

But alas, this becomes the challenge: How can I add some additional writing hours to the week so that I'm feeling just a little more balanced? Drastic changes aren't easy to follow, nor are they very sustainable, but what about an hour in the evenings? What about three hours on Saturday? Maybe three hours on Sunday?

Maybe just start with an hour on the weekends and see if I can turn it into three? This might be a manageable task just to see what carving time out does to my sense of well-being as an artist/writer. I'll keep you posted (and keep myself accountable) here in this space, and as far as timeline?

In true new year spirit: I'll begin today (as soon as I'm home from the day job).

Please feel free to stay tuned for updates & a very happy Tuesday to you!

(thanks to Colassal and calmingcalamity.tumblr.com)

Adventures in the New Year

Spokane was engulfed in a gorgeous snowstorm yesterday, and the above photo was taken from my apartment window at sunset. This view is such a balm in the cold winter months--a sight that is still a marvel to me every year.

Speaking of the years, sending each of you very warm and happy wishes for 2015. I am excited and hopeful for these brand new months ahead, and ever grateful to be here writing and sharing words, ideas, discoveries, and projects.

Here's how the turn of 2014 into 2015 has looked these past few days:

 

This awesome backpack was a gift from my older sister for Christmas. It holds everything from books and notebooks to gym clothes and my lunches. 

{It also has an adorable grimace, which I discovered the other night.}

One of the very first meals of the year was from this amazing cookbook, Toro Bravo, a collection of recipes inspired by and also served at its namesake restaurant in Portland, Oregon. Joe and I were lucky enough to eat there last October, and we absolutely loved the cocktails, the grilled flat bread with arugula and truffle cheese, and some amazing seafood dishes, including the Paella Toro--beyond delicious!

Joe made the flat bread and he also found a new recipe for us to try: sauteed chard with egg--both were perfect. We're excited for more tasty new recipes in 2015, and I'll keep doing my best when it comes to the baked goods--pies and breads ahead, methinks.

This adorable couple greeted us when we arrived at Manito Park yesterday. Apparently not all the ducks have flown south, and I'm not sure what this means, but they were pretty cute.

{So is this guy.} 

 

There were dozens of cross-country skiers and sledders in the park, too. I've never tried cross country skiing, but this looked like a wonderful way of getting around yesterday--far better than driving, for sure. It was one of the busiest Sundays we've ever seen, and the snow just kept coming for hours. *Breathtaking*

And more ducks. It's a mystery to me, but it looks like they're here to stay through the season. The snow was here for a day and was replaced by rain in the middle of the night. We woke up to sloshy puddles and a lingering fog, which isn't nearly as thrilling, but alas, it's probably just right for a Monday. I hope you're starting your week off in good spirits and with happy memories from the holiday weekend.

Before I sign off, here are some older, but still very relevant words from writer George Saunders on kindness in The New York Times. This is one of my favorite passages:

Some of this “becoming kinder” happens naturally, with age. It might be a simple matter of attrition: as we get older, we come to see how useless it is to be selfish — how illogical, really. We come to love other people and are thereby counter-instructed in our own centrality. We get our butts kicked by real life, and people come to our defense, and help us, and we learn that we’re not separate, and don’t want to be. We see people near and dear to us dropping away, and are gradually convinced that maybe we too will drop away (someday, a long time from now). Most people, as they age, become less selfish and more loving. I think this is true. The great Syracuse poet, Hayden Carruth, said, in a poem written near the end of his life, that he was “mostly Love, now.”

Cheers, xo

DIY Puppies

I have a confession: I really, really want a puppy. I realize I'm nowhere near the first to feel this way, and I know there's a very good reason there are thousands of blogs and Youtube videos devoted to capturing canine cuteness, but be that as it may, I'm adding my voice to the masses on this one. I adore pups. I'm smitten with their velvety ears, their heartbreaking little faces, their sweet puppy love, and their paws. Oh their paws!

But, because of living arrangements and my current work schedule, dog ownership is not necessarily in the cards right now. Not yet. For the last couple of years, ever since my puppy-fever really took hold, I've managed to adore dogs and puppies from afar, or if I'm lucky, I cuddle my friends' pups, which does indeed help.

And while this is not a post dedicated to the introduction of a new furry family member, it is in fact highlighting a very happy addition to the home! One of the best surprises this season did not come under the tree, but was gifted just days before Christmas when Joe came home and couldn't wait until the holiday to give me this:

That's right. It's a book that teaches you how to make your very own tiny pup! Doesn't that little face look real? I was thrown at first--the pups are so intricate and expertly crafted in the pictures--but when I leafed through the pages, I saw that in fact the author, Chie Hayano gives very detailed and often funny instructions on how to craft twelve different breeds of pups--no bigger than the size of your hand. Amazing.

The pup on the cover is a longcoat chihuahua named Milk, and he is probably the first one I'll make once I'm ready to tackle my next craft project.

For those who don't know me well, this isn't nearly as random as it may seem. I have a new and growing interest in making softies, puppets, and small creatures, in all kinds of materials. I've made a few things so far, but nothing this tiny--not yet.

I still need to fetch some essential crafting materials for these guys (little eyes, some faux fur, special thread), but until then, and before I have anything of my own to showcase, here are some adorable handmade inspiration pups from Etsy:

Miniature Bulldog by Willane

Mini Spotted Dog and Rust and White pup  by Walking Olive

Felted Husky and Schnauzer by Dr Nancy's Felted Pets

Here's to bringing puppies into the home in 2015, and to lots of crafting/diy-ing in the near future! 

Cheers! xo

(top photo via buzzfeed--thank you)

Sift: Moments of Making and Doing

It's been a lovely whirlwind of family visits in Spokane and Seattle, the Christmas holiday, and a few fun gatherings with friends, all before the year comes to a close. We've been busy in our tiny corner of the world, and while I love the holidays for bringing people together with good beverages nearby, it is so nice to be back at my desk writing and reflecting on the past few days, staring out my window as the last half hour of light pours through the apartment. I feel happy. It's important to write these words down when they are true and when the experience is present: happy. It feels good to name it.

I've also felt a lot of other things over the last few days: caffeinated, tipsy, sleepy, nervous, relieved, overwhelmed, and overjoyed. The holidays do all of this to me, or I suppose if I'm taking more responsibility for my emotions, I could say this is how I choose to respond to the holidays. All trappings of language aside for a moment, I'm just glad to be sitting here now, in the quiet of this space. This is all.

As for the past week? Here's a handful of all the fun things we've been up to:

I was Secret Santa for my younger sister this year. My family has a tradition of drawing names, and I was happy to pick Natalie's from the basket this year. She's moving to Hawaii in just under a week now (lots of bittersweet emotions this holiday season), and I wanted to give her things that would not be too burdensome to travel with, but which would also remind her of home here in Spokane.

One of the gifts I gave was from a craft project I did last summer, found on Sugar & Cloth: DIY animal magnets! It's super easy, with the exception of cutting the plastic animals in half--this takes a bit of elbow grease--and they wind up looking pretty cute: little animal heads and butts jutting from the fridge.

I decided they'd be perfect for her new home, easy enough to travel with, and she might just smile and remember her adoring older sister when she grabs OJ in the morning.

This is what they look like after they've been painted gold. Nothing says *fancy* or "Merry Christmas" like a gold rhino butt, am I right?

It took a couple of paint coats to achieve a perfectly bright gold exterior, and it happened to be a brisk, windy day when I did this, which is not something I'd recommend for spray-painting jobs in general, but alas, the holidays were fast upon me at this point, so it was caution (and gold paint) to the wind.

Then I put all of the gold safari creatures into a little pouch--a bag o' gold for Christmas!

When all was wrapped, packed, and ready, Joe and I settled in, lit our new little Christmas tree gifted from my sweet mom, who knows all about our Christmas Sans Le Tree, and we got to work on baking cookies, which didn't turn out as perfectly as I'd hoped (too crumbly), but tasted pretty good, nonetheless.

How cool is this tree? Metal, light, and simple, with little gold cross-hatching painted along the edges of its frame. It's perfect for the coffee table and lighting a candle inside makes it feel very festive.

 

Cookie action:

After Christmas when we were back in town, we stole away to Atticus, our favorite Spokane coffee shop, where we read, did the Saturday crossword puzzle, drank tea, and watched the snow fall. 

Later that evening, we met up with our friends Amanda and Mike for beers at Iron Goat Brewery. A nice way to ease back into Spokane. Note my new mittens below! (Winter Wishlist)

Tomorrow it's back to business as usual, and in just a few short days, we welcome a fresh start: 2015. I know I have a lot of ideas, projects, and plans for this coming year, but for now, I'm happy to say it's been pretty darn good these last twelve months. And that's rad. 

Happy Monday to you! Hope your week is off to a good start.

(top photo via withgraceandguts.tumblr.com--thank you!)