Nov 292012
 

“You’re just scared.” With her trademark high-pitched giggle, a gentle hug, and a warm smile, country music legend Dolly Parton soothed Stephen Colbert as he displayed a rare moment of vulnerability. As one icon calmed another, they eventually performed their duet together.

After a “busy” day at the spa, I caught up on Colbert episodes in the evening, and Dolly’s presence brought back warm memories. My parents were country music fans, and I saw Dolly in concert at least twice, maybe more. When Dolly sat onstage alone with her guitar singing “mountain songs” of her childhood, such as Coat of Many Colors, that younger version of myself longed to write with that kind of simple beauty.

Oh, yeah, that…the songwriters of my youth pointed the way to my own love affair with words. Somewhere in the hassles of daily life, I had forgotten.

This week I have busied myself with stripping layers of tension and stress away, and what has remained? That which was already there. I have a plethora of tools at my disposal to help me navigate life’s stresses, but I sometimes forget what I already know. Slowing down, taking a break, has allowed me to say, “Oh, wait, I could do that…I could try this…”

Truth is, I had let the fears and anxieties take over. And yes, I had to admit, I uncovered some anger, too. I had allowed the behavior of a few thoughtless people to disrupt my zen. Upon further examination, perhaps I allowed them to do so because of the fears…my anger emerged because yet again, I had held myself back.

After lunch I felt some agitation again, just a day after spending hours in the spa. Some of life’s troubles had revisited and were churning inside me once again. I wandered over to the pool and alternated laps with dips in the hot tub, feeling my strength in the water with each stroke, grateful for the power of a healthy body. Once I had that “good tired” feeling, I went back to my room.

I had forgotten that according to Ayurveda, the sister science of yoga, water calms my fiery “pitta” nature. Later, while doing a specific yoga practice aimed at calming pitta, I was reminded of that and much more.

This week I have remembered that when I get into trouble with writing, I can always return to The Artist’s Way. Usually it takes just a few exercises in the book to get me jump-started again. I logged in to Julia Cameron Live and let her remind me, with her patient teacher’s voice, of what I had first learned from her more than fifteen years ago.

I also remembered that I can use yoga as therapy to quiet my inner storms and fears. Sure, I planned to meditate, but I’m someone who needs physical movement to really let go. As I’ve mentioned in this blog before, My Yoga Online is a great resource for videos, and I am using it extensively during this retreat week. (If anyone wants a two-week trial, let me know, and I’ll set you up.)

I had forgotten that for me, whatever the problem, writing is the cure. When I write, I am a happier person. Period. So I will keep writing, even if I feel like I’m talking in an (almost) empty room.

I had forgotten that even though we live in Paradise, we need a vacation now and then…and my sojourn on the sofa this summer while I waited to resolve medical difficulties doesn’t count. I was too tired then to do anything but catch up on every season of How I Met Your Mother. I needed solitude away from the house in which there are always rooms to clean and meals to cook.

Reading a novel this week, with great subject matter but unfortunate editing, I remembered that our work can be good without being perfect. While I want to create quality work, sometimes it’s just time to put the darn thing out there. I have good work worth finishing, and it’s time to get to it.

Mostly, I had forgotten that I’m a better writer when I see it as an adventure. The “get your butt in the chair” advice doesn’t work for me. Yeah, it appeals to that internal critic and editor, but for making new work, it needs to feel like I’m making mud pies. I need to be the small child who doesn’t care if her clothes get dirty, and allow myself to get lost in the exploration, the play. Early drafts are muddy and messy anyway. Why not just plop myself down and revel in it?

As I go forward, I hope I will also remember the moment of Stephen Colbert’s naked struggle as he sat next to his idol with guitar in hand, strumming along and harmonizing as best he could. He’s just scared. And so am I. And that’s just fine…I can find my way through my song, too.

 

Oct 242012
 

A sign we saw on our recent trip to Forks!

Since Hallowe’en is coming, I’ve been humming one of my favorite Broadway show tunes. A few years ago we saw [title of show] (which isn’t a typo, that’s the name of the show, complete with the brackets), and we use many of its songs as a source of creative inspiration. Die Vampire Die is a ditty about the creative “vampires” that can suck our creativity dry, and it has a way of bringing me back to a place of determination and resolve.

Sometimes we have a family crisis, or a crisis of confidence, but a lot can get in the way of our creativity. When that happens, we need a little boost to keep us going, to prevent that short break from turning into a long one.

When I get into those funks that make me want to give up, I use music to bring me back to the present moment so I can believe in myself again.

Some other songs to light the creative fire:  How Bad Do You Want it? by Tim McGraw; The Resolution by Jack’s Mannequin; The Rising by Bruce Springsteen; Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson; and God’s Promise by Ellis Paul (lyrics by Woody Guthrie). Enjoy this musical interlude!

How about you? Do you have favorite songs to lift your spirits when you’re feeling discouraged?

May 162012
 

Canadians love Emily Carr. They didn’t back when she was still alive, an eccentric woman who didn’t follow society’s rules for her, but decades after her death, this artist and writer is hitting her stride. A Carr painting sold in 2009 went for $2 million. In Victoria, a bronze sculpture of her, complete with signature hair net and pet monkey Woo, greets tourists as they enter the garden area near the Fairmont Empress Hotel. A short walk away, her childhood home is on display for those who love her writings, art, or both.

(For a look at Carr’s art, click here. For a look at her books, click here.)

The sculpture apparently sets some peoples’ teeth on edge because it conveys the oddities of the woman and not her genius as an artist and writer. “This is a sculpture for tourists,” one critic complained.

Carr was well ahead of her time, a woman who chose not to marry in order to marry her art. She spent time in the forests of Vancouver Island, living with First Nations People and drawing images of their lives, including totem poles that European settlers later took down.* She lived in Victoria during its beginnings, born upon the arrival of the railroad, and her writings are rich with description of life in the city that hadn’t yet developed.

Though she struggled most of her life for money (even turning her back on art for 15 years to run a boarding house), she managed to scrounge enough together to study in San Francisco and, later, Europe. Fascinated by the post-Impressionists, her work took on new depth and dimension when she combined her love of Canadian nature with the influences of her European teachers, creating extraordinary works of vivid color and expression.

Though she had always kept journals, she turned seriously to writing late in life, when ill health kept her from traveling to her beloved woods to paint. Her writing gave her recognition, which then led her to Canada’s legendary Group of Seven, Canada’s finest artists of the time. She found a level of success at about the time she could no longer paint.

Carr was considered a “difficult” woman. Her legendary rudeness occurred when she thought young artists were lazy, or when someone was trying to interfere with her own art-making time. As someone who often gets snappish when I feel that others are trying to usurp my work time, I relate to her.

I thought about the many male geniuses whose bad behavior was often excused. Picasso, anyone? Or, we just saw a documentary on Bob Marley, whose influence on reggae and music in general still astounds — but who also seems to get a pass for less-than-stellar behavior. We women, on the other hand, are supposed to be “nice” no matter what. Some things haven’t changed since Carr’s time.

Sitting in her childhood home, I was overcome by her courage and forthright individuality. She reminded me, in her way, to get on with it — to create and to learn, to continue to seek out my own vision for my work. Like Emily, I love nature and animals, but am less comfortable with people. Like Emily, I have often felt a sense of isolation, of not fitting in, which often shows up in my fictional characters. Yet what fascinates me is that Emily Carr, in spite of what people thought, kept on with her craft, creating until the end of her days. I am a sucker for resilient people.

Let me be like Emily and to always create no matter what!

What artist, writer, or other figure has influenced you in your work? Do tell!

 

*Emily’s reputation has endured some controversy about her painting of Native totems. Though it is believed that the First Nations People of her generation supported her desire to preserve the images, other modern First Nations People see her as appropriating their work. In her writings, she herself struggles with her inability to comprehend fully the experience of native life. She also rails against the fashion of the time of “converting” and “civilizing” native peoples. Unfortunately, many of her reflections were edited out of her first book, Klee Wyck, leaving many First Nations People with an inaccurate impression of Carr.