At 7 Criminal Minds this week we are picking our own
subject. I’m writing about feeding creativity.
A few years ago I was working on a book and got totally
stumped. I couldn’t move forward, but I couldn’t give it up, either. Finally, I
realized that I had holed up and worked on the book to the exclusion of other
activities. My creative brain had gone stale. I knew it was time to get out and
about and feed my creative side. In this particular case, I went for a long
walk. But not just any walk—not a mindless ramble. I focused. I promised myself
to really look at everything around me. I noticed the beautiful red bark of the
manzanita tree that I often passed without paying attention to it. I stopped to
take in the incredible variety of the color green on a hillside—every shade from
silver-green to deep jade, to the soft green of new shoots. I noticed that
intricate patters of tree trunks:
Several years ago, I started taking painting classes. I have
no “talent” at painting, and no illusions that I would burst onto the art
scene. I thought it might make me better able to see the world. I’m not a natural
at “seeing. I’m more tuned to hearing the world around me. Learning to really
look at things turned out to be more rewarding than I could ever have imagined.
I learned about the important of light and shadow and how difficult it is to
replicate the colors of nature.
In my writing, it made me able to open up to description. I
always had trouble describing scenes. I was of the “just describe everything in
the room” writer. Nothing, it turns out, is more boring than reading a
checklist of what’s in a room. From painting, I learned the art of picking out
the important visual cue. I don’t see a tree trunk anymore. I see the roughness
or smoothness of the bark, the way the trunk twists, the visible roots on the
ground. Is see the intricate details of flowers:
I have learned over time to feed my creative side in all
kinds of ways. One of my favorites is to go to art galleries. Did I say I was
more tuned to hearing than to seeing? I realized several years ago that when a
piece of visual art really speaks to me, I often hear a soundtrack with it in
my head.
Here’s a photo I took while strolling through Bouquets to Art
at the DeYoung Museum, a yearly exhibition in which floral artists interpret
art in the gallery: Can you hear the music that goes along with it?
Bird-watching expeditions are a wonderful way to see the
world afresh. In the Bay Area, we are lucky to have places to observe shorebirds,
woodland and forest birds, as well as free-ranging raptors. Birds are around us
every day, but “seeing” them requires being still and really looking for the
subtle colors, watching the way they feed and preen, the way they fly and
interact with each other and their environment.
Sometimes it isn’t nature that fulfills, but other arts. Going
to a movie or to the theater can stir your imagination and set you buzzing with
a new idea. Music: The symphony or the opera, or any kind of music. Rock, folk,
jazz.
And of course, sometimes what works best is reading. Not
just reading mysteries, but reading outside sometimes reading outside your
comfort zone. I just read the brilliant Lincoln
in the Bardo, not knowing what to expect. It reminded me that literature
can take you out of your everyday experiences and fling you into a new way of
seeing the world.
How do others feed their creativity? Do you work on your
car? Cook? Rearrange your furniture? Take photographs?
4 comments:
Whenever I get stumped in my writing I take my dogs and go on a long walk in the woods. Forest Bathing the Japanese call it. And it works. Usually my mind relaxes with the natural serenity around me, so that by the time I've finished the walk, I've solved my problem and can move on. Good post, Terry.
I agree you, Terry. It's whatever it takes to get you into that zone.
I like your examples. Long drives by myself are good - plenty of time to think. Doesn't always work though, like today - a three-hour trip through fog and snow, too busy staying alive to be creative! :)
And music of course. Better yet, long drives with music!
RJ, I love the idea of Forest Bathing.
And RM Greenaway, I had forgotten about long drives. Growing up in Texas, driving was a way of life. It was an easy way to unwind.
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