Category Archives: Creative Process

Becoming a… choosing to… leaping…

12 Wednesday Jan 2011

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Its a strange feeling, being between lives.

I’ve a good sense of who I am and what I want… its just making that choice, stepping, with both feet at once (a leap, really) into the future I’ve turned towards. It looks like I’ve chosen, but I’m not quite committed, not yet.

I’ve burned the bridge back, amicably but definitely.

I’ve been given, handed on a silver platter, an opportunity to make the transition easily, and it still feels so hard because I’m scared.

What if? What if?

I’m deep-down-in-my-very-core terrified. And I know its this way or nothing. It feels so right. I’m scared and certain, at the same time. Fear and desire, those dancing twins.

From the tension, as Thorn has taught me, can be born a new thing, a third thing, a proud thing. I can make a choice, and raise the new-born peacock high.

What am I choosing? What have I turned my caravan* towards?

I’ve chosen to move back to the green hills of Wales (though I’ve kept my job in England as a safety net), I’ve chosen to start writing more seriously, both academically and magically (see the Feyhearted blog for a weekly project which has been weekly for 6 weeks, and is scheduled to be weekly for another 2 weeks already. I’m not only continuing a project, I am actually ahead of deadline! Go me!). I’ve chosen to do what will make me happy, rather than follow the trail of shoulds that have been threatening for a year.

 

I successfully buried an important thing there. Something I don’t really belive but, look! See all the times I do it! I appear to be becoming a…

Writer.

Artist I get. Witch I get. Academic, student, dreamer… all things I’ve long accepted. I still ignore the label ‘writer’. Its important to me. I write all the time. More than I make art. And I have trouble with it. Despite having written a book. Having written many short stories. Having kept a sporadic blog (or 5) for years. Having written essays and dissertations… and having enjoyed the process.

So yes, I’ve chosen to be a writer. Among other things. Since, if you don’t do/know/love other things, what do you write about?!

There are other ways, other commitments I am in the process of making, like actually releasing my old home and becoming present in my new home. This one feels key though… I find, strangely, that I love to write, I long to.

A writer.

Right.

 

 

*Caravan. Yep. Havi is a pirate queen, Eileen has a sailboat. I like stability, I like having a home, I like freedom and colour. I have a gypsy caravan. I might talk more about this later. I might not. We’ll see.

Getting things Done, or: A little at a Time

31 Saturday Jul 2010

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I have a lot of projects, let’s face it. Many things I like to do, many things I’m working on at any given time.

People usually  look surprised when I tell them what I’m up to, and they often ask how I find time to do everything I’m doing.

A family member looked over my website recently and assumed I was working in collaboration with other people, how could one person do that much? That many different things?

My secret? I do everything a little at a time.

I have lots of projects because I’m in the mood to do different things at different times, and I have the capacity to do different things depending on the situation… like the lunchbreak at work is not conducive to painting with oils, but making an ATC in watercolours, writing a Haiku, scribbling in my journal or reading a philosophy article: each of these takes a short period of time and no more stuff than I can fit in my handbag.

I made a habit of always having a small journal, sketchbook, knitting project or philosophy book in my bag every time I leave the house. And often I carry two of these things so I’ve a choice. (This is why I carry almost as much with me for an evening out as for a weekend away!)

Over the course of the week I read a whole book, or draw several cards, or knit most of a top.

By the end of the month I’ve finished several projects… most of which I started months ago and have been working on for ages!

Each individual project takes a long time, but I always have something to do if I want to, and I feel very productive because I’m regularly finishing things.

I’ve often heard people say that you can find time for anything you want to do, and it’s true. That half hour at lunch, every day, has breathed life into many creations.

The other secret? If you have something you want to do, just do it.

Knitting Socks

22 Thursday Jul 2010

Posted by in Art Craft and Beauty, Creative Process, Following Delight

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and lacey things…

I decided to teach myself to knit. I had somewhat of a headstart because relatives had shown me the basics when I was small, but having forgotten most of the details (apart from that it involved looping string through other loops until the long, thin, twisted fibres magically transformed themselves into something wide and flat and warm) I figured that it counted as teaching myself.

The basics were easy, though I was grateful for the fluffiness of the wool which hid some of the early inconsistencies (i.e.: holes and unintended increasing and decreasing).

I knitted bags full of squares using one stitch; knit. Knit knit knit. Turn. Knit knit knit.

I chose the most beautiful balls of colourful wool and knitted each whole ball into a colourful patch, though I had little clue what I would do with them. It was still fun. (These are now half a blanket, it needs resewing properly, but is really funky.)

I knitted scarves, similar principle, knit knit knit, turn, knit knit knit… until you have something long enough to wrap around you and fluffy enough to look pretty. (And done when you’ve made something longer than it is wide, an easily finished project is always a good place to start for me!)

And then I began to wonder what else I could do.

I bought a book. Stitch and Bitch.

Really rather useful. This taught me how to pearl! A new stitch! And it had instructions for picking up dropped stitches, and shared details on how this alchemical process of knitting works. I chose two patterns, bought some wool and spent 18 months knitting a rucksack and a hoody (without a hood, so I guess its just a jumper.)

And then…

I saw a friend knitting socks. I’d heard that they were difficult, she made them look easy. I imagined wearing warm, colourful creations on my feet… and I asked her how she made the heel work.

And then I forgot everything she’d told me. Darn.

Still determined, I found a heelless sock pattern, some chunky red wool, and I made my very own pair of socks!!!

My first Sock! Heelless!

They are too big, and the pattern makes them uncomfortable to wear in shoes… but they’re mine, and they make wonderful slippers! And, to top it off, they remind me of how inspiring my friends can be. Thanks WD!

I’ve learnt that the best way to learn something is just to do it, to pick a pattern and try it out. If it turns out wonky, then I’ve still learnt something!

What have you been putting off? What could you just have a go at?

Now, I’m learning how to make knitting lacey. I undid the first inch five times before it started to make sense (under the patient guidance of the same sock-knitting friend) There are less mistakes with every inch I do, and at the end I’ll have a pretty blue top… even if it is three sizes too small!!!

Lacey Top in Progress

Oh, and one last thing, every time I look over how far I’ve come with these things, I can see how much I’ve learnt, how much my skills have improved (before I started this pattern I’d never knitted holes on purpose before!) I am filled with pride. I know it won’t be perfect, and the mistakes and visible improvement and clear markers of what I am proud of: the fact that I’ve set out to learn something, and I have! Mixed with the pride is profound gratitude; gratitude that I have these opportunities, gratitude for friends that help, gratitude for time to learn, gratitude for everything that gives me the opportunity to learn almost any skill I choose to.

Pride and gratitude. A really good feeling.

What are you proud of? What do you wish you were proud of?

Art class drop out

14 Wednesday Jul 2010

Posted by in Art Craft and Beauty, Creative Process

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When people walk into my room, they often comment on all my art on the wall. They don’t know how I believed I’d never make art like this.

I wear my world on my sleeve, so to speak. I remember hiding in the library at school, half the time I’d be reading stories or books about psychology or religion, the other half of the time I’d be drawing.

I almost failed GCSE art. I dropped out of Art A-level after a month.

I knew I loved making art, and yet I could barely pass the class.

For years I doubted my ability, lacking formal training, how could I really make art? How could I be an artist?!

And still I kept at it. In fits and starts, not so much an undeniable impulse but more like a slowly building pressure, only relieved by the soothing sound of colours stroking the page.

There is, simply, nothing like it.

Once I start, I never want the process to end at the same time as impatiently longing to see the finished picture.

I couldn’t jump through the hoops of formal training because, frankly, I just wanted to make art.

I dropped out of art class after a month.

I wanted the skills, but the formality was destroying me.

When I went to university to study Philosophy I secretly thought I’d left art, sadly, irrevocably, behind me. I could still draw, doodle, play, but I could never really be an artist.

But then I found myself painting, drawing, more and more… I painted my thoughts out for an essay, then wrote the essay based on the painting. Friends loved the art I made, asked me to make piece for them, which sit proudly on their walls.

Somehow, I’d dropped out, and tuned in.

Somehow, as an art-class drop-out, I found I could still be an artist.

I am grateful that I only gave up on my dream for a moment, and, in returning to myself, I find myself here… making art.

It makes me wonder what dreams the people around me have given up on, even if they haven’t realised it. It reminds me why the old cliché exists: it is never too late to do what you love, to be who you are, regardless of what the world might think.

Creation is like a sun shining from the heart…

17 Saturday Apr 2010

Posted by in Art Craft and Beauty, Creative Process, Following Delight

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Creation is a Sun

The sunlight soothes my skin, scent of a green, green land playing in the air.

A bee bumbles past as I lay lazily, brush in hand, stroking the paper into colours.

Words come, unbidden, as the image emerges and my pen pours ink onto the page, spelling out the words, the spell, to capture the feeling.

How words and images reflect each other, like twins, Dionysian movement, Apolline images, dancing together.

I am reminded of Blake, who I have often strived to follow, inspired by the seamless blend of pigment and print.

Walkers wander past, voices loud against the hush of the slow summer which sneaks into my valley. Traffic in the distance, not so far from here, but still worlds away, does not burst the bubble of my beauty-brushed-blessed-being-of-the-moment.

I am here, bathed in light, warming in the sun, warmed from the sun within which feeds on the fuel that is joy. Joy, like a sun in my heart, shining in the light of the sun in the sky, overflowing through my hands and onto the page.

How can I share this moment with you?

I breathe up, a prayer of delight, of gratitude, of beauty.

I talk of sun and warm and light, of joy overflowing and green green grass… and still I wonder, can you feel it?

Can you feel the heat, the flames like liquid gold, pouring out from my heart into beauty, being fed by beauty, a circle of love for the world?

My heart opens and love pours out.

Originally posted on blogspot.

The Blank Page

19 Friday Feb 2010

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Its the beginnings that are the hardest, at least to start with. I find myself staring at a blank sheet of paper and wonder where to make the first mark, what will be the first sentance? What will be the first line? Getting past this is often hard, this pure white sheet of paper, perfect, unblemished, beautiful in the way only an unmarked page can be…

And then we fill the page with colour and lines and words and it moves from pure emptiness to a place full of life.

Here, in the overcoming of the blank page, something is created. In that hesitation I feel fear, my fear is that I will waste a page, waste an opportunity, waste the moment and make nothing but a mistaken mess. What if it turns out bad? What if I’m not good enough? What if, what if, what if…

And I breathe in the empty page, sit with the space for a moment, and empty out those doubts.

Whatever happens, its never a waste, it is fun, illuminating, inspiring, it helps to flesh out an idea, it is the process of exploring and beginning and is, above all, a chance to play.

That blank page becomes a playground, and while I’m always nervous about what will be built there, even if it is ultimately to be shredded, the cliche about the importance of the journey holds true. Every act of play is important.

I, personally, have often been so wrapped up in having to produce something, that I forget that production is not the point. Every time I sit down to make art, to write, to explore delight, I remind myself that to create is to play on the border of materia and immateria, the point where the physical world and the imagination kiss. Yes, there will often be something that is born of this meeting, but it need not be the focus of creation, and it certainly need not be ‘perfect’.

Perfectionism is where we are scared to get it wrong.

I wonder why beauty need be ‘right’?

I wonder why playtime is seen as a waste?

I wonder if we can sit with the empty page, take a breath, and dive right in with a smile…

5 Minute Post – Writing as Creation

07 Monday Dec 2009

Posted by in Creative Process, Philosophy

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I have 5 minutes, one topic, and a blog: GO!

Writing as Creation

Clearly writing can be creative, I mean, its pactically creating something from nothing! You have all the elements mentioned in my post on the Philosophy of Creativity: The Urge to Create something, the resistance to it, the influences from the world around… plus the all important thing to write with. But what are you creating? Are the words themselves the creation? Is it the actual physical thing you write on? The digital blog-page? Is that what is created?

Lets take a song: say you write a song with a narrative.

What have you made? A song, a story, a piece of paper/digital page with words on it, marks, a shape picked out by the lines of words…

But if you then sing it, is that singing the same thing? Did you make that sung song too, in the first act of writing? If you copy it and someone else sings it, what then? If you email it to all your friends, are all those copies part of that first creation?

And the story… the narrative, you made that too.

Creation is amazing. One act can result in soemthing so huge.

Or it can result in a rambling muse on a blog floating in cyberspace.

And thats 5 minutes gone. Time to go out. Thoughts anyone? Anyone like to see more of these?

If you guys suggest topics, I’ll pick them randomly according to mood and give it a go, see what comes out. 🙂