Tag Archives: creativity

Dinner is Art Class with a Scribble Tablecloth

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It was a tired night for me. The kids were cranky, but we still had dinner to go before I could send them to bed! To make matters worse, it was a leftovers night (spaghetti) and I knew that my kids would whine about that too. My husband would not be home for quite some time.
It was up to me to change the mood of the evening. It was up to me to not go crazy as I did so.
It’s a good thing I have been reading The Giant Book of Creativity for Kids. I don’t see myself as a very creative person, but the author of the book certainly is. On a whim, I took up Bobbi Conner’s brief suggestion: I unrolled butcher paper on the table and grabbed some crayons. This was our tablecloth for the night.
1503scribble-tablecloth
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The Summer of Creativity

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summer of creativity
He pauses from taking a bite of his sandwich and stares out the window. “Wow, Mom,” he says, returning to our world. “I just keep thinking of ideas for stories!”
I had given him access to a recording program so he could dictate the story he had told me the day before. He had spent an hour narrating the story on to the record. I’d promised to type up his stories when he was done. He could edit his stories as he recorded them.
This is the child who has resisted any type of writing in my own co-op class this year. And this is the boy I remember from the past: full of stories and ideas.
Later, he kneels on the driveway, chalk in hand, drawing only he knows what on the pavement. I think it is a town for his bike to drive through, because as we go inside two hours later, he says, “I hope it does not rain tonight!”
As his little sister climbs to the play house on top of the slide, she reaches for the tree branches hanging just over the side. “Ooooo, yummy apples!” She declares, biting in to an invisible fruit. “You want some?” She holds out her chubby arm, inviting me to take an invisible apple of my own.
Dirt, everywhere. This is the result of not having sand under the slide. Strawberry digs in the dirt. For more than an hour.
This is summer.
This summer is going to be a time of learning. But it will also be a time of exploration and creativity. It is time to embrace our creative sides. This will be our summer of creativity.
This week has been a relief to me. Although we have not finished all of our formal curricula, I’m pretty certain I’m done with the official school days. Co-op is over. Our park district weekly P.E. class is finished. Next year, since my son will be seven, we’ll have to track more carefully. But this year, first grade is complete.
We have worked hard. Now it is time to play.
Image by Nattu
 

Why I (Want to) Write

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In the past few months, I’ve been focusing on my reading. That is why I’ve been absent from “Writing Practices.”

In the New Year, I want to visit “Writing Practices” at least twice a month. I will share inspiring quotes, write my thoughts about writing, and maybe revisiting some of the memes that I really would like to participate in.

I’ve been thinking about why I want to write. In some respects, I feel like I’m really meant to be a reader. I am so impressed with the power that others have behind their words. The more I read, the more I want to keep reading, and the more I feel I will never be able to command language as do others.

In The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, one task for the budding artist/writer was to go a week without reading: that way, you are open to your own creativity. But I don’t want to do that. Not yet. I am so in love with reading at this point in my life that I don’t want to let go of it. Reading – both fiction and nonfiction – inspires me and helps me expand my mind.

I know writing would do the same for me: I just must do it in order to experience that creativity.

I want to be more balanced in my life overall, by reading, by writing, by cooking, and by working on my photography. I’d love for you to follow along with my progress, although don’t be surprised if my reading blog remains the most active 2009.

The Mother’s Way

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I’ve wanted to be more “creative” lately, so I picked up a book of ideas, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. I liked some of her suggestions, but others just weren’t right.

Her main premise is that creativity is God-given, and if we nurture ourselves, we will find it within us. That concept reminded me of Elder Uchtdorf’s talk at the Relief Society meeting:

The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before.

Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty.

Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty .

Julia Cameron tells us that the key to career resiliency (that is, finding a creative career more suited to your creativity) is self-empowerment and choice. Since I stepped out of an office (my choice) to have my baby (also my choice) and I haven’t been back (still my choice), I pretty much chose my current career. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

No trumpets sound when the important decisions of our life are made. Destiny is made known silently. Agnes de Mille (quoted on page 144)

Raising a family is my destiny.

I picked up this book at just the wrong time. She has good ideas, but I don’t have time for them. And some ideas really don’t seem all that good. She encourages readers to take the time to write 20 minutes in the morning pages, write another hour every day, and take a break every week for an artist’s date. Get a sitter now, stop serving other people, and serve yourself for once. If you don’t let yourself do these things, she suggests, you aren’t giving yourself the luxury you deserve.

Part way into this book, I realized why I was so bothered: My baby is my luxury. I waited my entire life to be a mother, and I have the blessing of staying home with my baby. It means I’m not going to write for an hour every day. Serving others, particularly my baby, is a great way that I feel spiritual; if I only served myself all the time, I’d feel very depressed. Life is about service to others!

Yet, I think she has good points for people trying to make creativity a career; you can’t make a career out of writing on the side. Toni Morrison (quoted on page 97) said:

We are traditionally rather proud of ourselves for having slipped creative work in there between the domestic chores and obligations. I’m not sure we deserve such big A-pluses for that.

I completely agree: I’ve been trying to slip in my creativity during the day. But that’s not how it’s done. If I’m serious about my writing, I must be serious when I write.

Cameron would probably suggest that I’m afraid to start being creative, so I’m using my baby as an excuse. Maybe I am afraid. But she does asks the reader to ponder what gives us true joy (page 110), and we are encouraged to pursue that thing. I realized that I already am pursuing it: my baby gives me true joy. Yes, it’s hard work to always watch him every day. No, there really isn’t any time off, although there are nap breaks most days. I suppose that to be truly creative, I can’t be a full-time, never-stop mom, as I am. But I don’t want to change that for any amount of creativity.

By reading The Artist’s Way, I’ve been inspired to seek moments of creativity. I won’t write a novel this month, but I’ll start writing the morning pages. I might not make a daily career of my writing, but I’ll do what I can on the side.

That’s not something to be proud of, but it’s what I can do now, in the midst of my dream career. And I can be proud of following “The Mother’s Way.”

QUOTE: Beyond Writer’s Block

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  • Stop telling yourself, “It’s too late.”
  • Stop waiting until you make enough money to do something you’d really love.
  • Stop telling yourself, “It’s just my ego” whenever you yearn for a more creative life.
  • Stop telling yourself that dreams don’t matter, that they are only dreams and that you should be more sensible.
  • Stop fearing that your family and friends would think you crazy.
  • Stop telling yourself that creativity is a luxury and that you should be grateful for what you’ve got.

Julia Cameron, in The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity, page 7

I’ve been moving, among other things, for the few of you who check this page and have been wondering. In the coming weeks, I’m going to be reading Julia Cameron’s book. I’m going to try to let go of my fears in the process. I don’t intend to post my responses to her writing prompts on this site, but we’ll see!

Going Somewhere

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Every recess, my best friend and I ran to The Tree at the back of the playground. We circled it three times and entered our world. Sometimes we escaped a spider’s web. Other times we traveled a tight rope in a circus. We went somewhere together, as long as we walked around that tree.

In the summer, we met in the middle of our street with our bicycles: her bike was red and mine was blue. As soon as we got on them, though, we were no longer school girls but “cops and robbers” or “Gold Medal winners.” As long as we stayed on our bicycles, we went somewhere.

When my friend wasn’t available, my brother and I opened our basement door and walked down. When we reached the third step, we entered Ijona (“ee-john-a”), a world beyond the solar system where my brother was King (I think) and “table” meant “chair.” Sometimes, by the third step, waves would splash our toes. Other times, we searched for the exit in a three-story castle, facing all sorts of challenges on our way. We went somewhere, as long as we reached the third step.

Somehow, though, my worlds — our worlds — disappeared. I learned to drive. I went to college. I got married. I moved 16,000 miles (literally — I moved from Chicago to Australia).

I was going places in life.

And yet, as an adult, I no longer go anywhere. Three steps into the basement only take me three steps down.

I didn’t realize I was missing it.

Last week, my eight-month-old found his reflection in a three-inch metal fixture on his bathtub. One moment he was splashing by himself: the next minute another bald baby was laughing with him.

He was fascinated by the baby. I watched as he leaned forward and tried to push his yellow sailboat through to that other world: the other baby tried to share his yellow sailboat at the same time, and they were unable to share. No matter: my son was happy to giggle together.

Now, every time I put him in the bathtub, I think about his reflection-friend. Will he remember? Will he seek out that magical world that is just waiting to delight him? He’s just now entering a world of infinite creativity.

My days of going places may be past, but now I get to experience a world of creativity through my child. I’m so excited to watch him go places I can now only imagine.

To my son, my daily delight

(True response to June Write-Away Contest “Going Places” at Scribbit.)