The Artist's Way

My mother and I do not always agree about what makes a good book. She couldn't finish The Time Traveler's Wife; I couldn't finish Goldie Hawn's autobiography.

It was on her recommendation that I read Julia Cameron's memoir. It was slightly better than Goldie's. I did take the time to finish reading it, though I still get the two confused: who had a relationship with Scorsese? who witnessed one of her closest friends being hit by a car? The most interesting part of Cameron's book was when she wrote about the development of her program for writers, The Artist's Way. I was fascinated by the rigor of it, and the idea that if you just keep writing, a little bit every day, you will find you have something to say.

Lately, I have not felt that I had much to say, but I did not realize I missed writing until this weekend. Thing One was working on a school assignment. She had pulled a plot idea, a character and a setting out of a bag and had to make a story with them. Watching her writing in her little composition book, her hair tucked behind her ears and her pencil tapping her forehead, I thought "Hey, remember when you enjoyed writing? Remember when you would rewrite a sentence endlessly in your mind before sitting down to put your ideas on paper?"

Coincidentally (or not) this was also the weekend I received an e-mail from Karen Beth asking if I would be interested in taking part in a support/discussion group focused on The Artist's Way. We will read the book and then work through the workbook together, sharing our experiences on a blog. So, why not? I am going to give it a go and I will share my thoughts here.


And, proud mama that I am, I have to share the first couple of sentences of Thing One's story.

Hello, Reader, I'm finally talking again! I know you're surprised, but let me tell you the story.

Aren't you on the edge of your seat?!

"Mommy, I Wrote A Song and It Is Called - Kings Do Things That Are Royal"

Oooooooooh, Kings do things
that are royal!
That are royal!
They eat royal food,
and they (mumble,mumble)-ood.

The knights fight the dragons
for the kings.
For the kings!

And the princesses dance
for the queens.
For the queens!
For the queens!
For the queens!

[Wanders away, chanting "For the queens!"
The wandering takes a little more shape and becomes a march back to me, still chanting.
The chanting stops abruptly when he reaches me.]

"So, Mommy? What was your favorite part of my song?"

I'd Like My Crayons Back Please

Then when you hit puberty they take the crayons away and replace them with books on algebra etc. Being suddenly hit years later with the creative bug is just a wee voice telling you, "I�d like my crayons back, please."
from Gaping Void

I was directed to this link by Eva and found some of it helpful in reminding me what I already know about creativity, but tend to forget in the hustle and bustle of my life.

In college I flitted from one creative interest to another, writing poetry, acting and taking design classes. I wore the requisite "hippy" skirts and had a closet full of slouchy boots and a box full of gigantic, jingly earrings. Nearly every boy I dated played the guitar.

After graduation, I packed up an ugly orange chair, two plants and my journal and headed to New York City. I worked for a struggling theatre company for a year before my savings was spent and it was time to figure out a way to pay for the 300 square foot apartment my boyfriend and I shared.

A friend knew of a administrative assistant position at one of the city's wealthiest law firms. She was temping there and managing to audition at the same time. The pay was unbelievable. The change crept up on me slowly, but somehow, three years later, I was wearing suits, heels and pearl earrings. I was about to graduate from NYU with a Master's degree in early childhood education. I was planning a wedding and a move to the suburbs. College-me would have choked on her ramen noodles.

Ten years later, I live in the town I grew up in. My husband and I have two beautiful (unbelievably imaginative) kids. This is the life we chose, and I cannot say that there is a thing I wish I had done differently. Shortly after my daughter was born I took a pottery class and started making jewelry again. I realize that I was finally saying "I'd like my crayons back please." And I realize that I can bring creativity to everything I do - activities with the kids, the garden, my work. And we can choose friends who value creativity as much as we do. And I bet I have some of those earrings in the back of the closet somewhere, but if not, I can always make new ones.