Pulse New York

This past week was all about the The Armory Show at the Piers in NYC. It’s a pretty famous show with lots of different offshoot exhibits all over town now, so I thought I’d find everyone some inspiration.

The only “offshoot” show I went to was downtown at Pulse NYC. I actually enjoyed it much more than main event, which I found kind of pretentious, but I always have lots of ambivalence about the art scene. The gallery  owners at Pulse were more open and welcoming and seemed truly excited by the artist’s works they were displaying.

The pulse show has more emerging artists in general. Overall, it was probably more uneven in quality than the Armory Show, but I liked the energy and genuine enthusiasm that I felt in the artwork I saw.

Here’s a few photos and thoughts below:

I thought this fur life preserver by Andy Yoder was an interesting political sendup about the economic downturn–especially in New York City, where the uber wealthy are more uber than other places:

I loved these woven rattan Buddha sculptures by Cambodia artist Sopheap Pich. Airy and open with a certain monumentality:

Megan Greene did some really lovely drawing/collages on top of pages of Audubon paintings from a book. Some people might think, “Oh, been there, done that” but I thought she really integrated her own skillful drawings wonderfully with the initial images, creating something fresh and well executed. She wasn’t really relying on the Audubon prints as much as carrying them somewhere else. My group picture doesn’t really do it justice. Check out her site for better photos.

I thought these mythic taxidermy creatures by Enrique Gomez de Molina were very cool, but some people around me were kind of grossed out. I guess I convinced myself he found the taxidermied pieces and then altered them with his own created bits, but really, I have no idea. They’re so imaginative and phantasmagorical to me and they have a lot of presence . Check out his site to see more and better images. (The walrus is covered in beetle wings!)

Laurent Craste had a wonderful piece that was a mix of video art and porcelain, but I couldn’t take a picture of it. He’s a porcelain artist, and most of his work (at this show anyway) is a commentary on decorative arts.

His piece that I really liked had a porcelain plate in a cabinet with a classic image of roses on it, but the image was digital, and he had the petals and leaves gradually fall off the decorative pattern to form a kind of heap at the bottom of the plate and then start over. Very witty, I thought–and well done video art, which I find kind of rare.

Here’s a few more of his porcelain commentaries:

Emil Lukas had a wrapped thread, piece that was positively luminous. Of course, my photo makes it look opaque and kind of awful, but it was really great and I wanted to include it here. I notice the other images of his work online don’t do much better either, so I think it’s kind of hard to photograph his work:

I liked these witty little paintings by Michael Dumontier and Neil Farber–from The Royal Art Lodge:

I really enjoyed Megan Whitmarsh’s soft sculpture installation of her dream studio–it was very positive and actually kind of joyful. It really brought back memories of the soft sculpture rage in the 70’s:

So there was lots more that I liked, but I’m having a hard time deciphering my notes and my to-do list is a mile long this week! I’ll write about The Armory Show next with lots of pictures as well. Please share any thoughts you have about any of the art, I’d love to hear from you!

Have you seen a head rolling by? Mine fell off this afternoon sometime–let me know if you see it.

So many thoughts fighting for attention in there and suddenly, it couldn’t take it anymore and off it went.

All because I’ve been frantically getting the site for my studio done–you know, the local NJ/NY Metro outpost for Make Great Stuff: Jackson Street Studios.

And now, it’s finally, officiiiaaaalllllllly………………………….Done-Ish!

What do they say–don’t let the pursuit of the perfect get in the way of the good? Right–so that’s what I’m doing. I mean, not doing….Er, one of those–the one where I’m okay with the “good”.

So as you can see from the above sentences, I’ve worked my head off and am officially fried, but I must say that I’m getting rather fond of my little site–it’s improving every day.

And I AM super excited by the class I’m teaching. Will you please take a look?

The Creative Breakthroughs Technique–A Collage Workshop

That’s what I’m calling it. Because it’s such a fabulous way to break out of a rut and ditch the self-censorship. With just enough structure to support you if it’s been a while since you made anything, but with plenty of room to express yourself.

This isn’t a class where you just copy a technique, make something nice, but secretly still doubt your own skills. It’s a way of helping you re-connect to your own creativity again. For finding your voice (again). I mean, there’s no point in your finding my voice for goodness sakes.

What was it Oscar Wilde used to say… “You might as well be yourself, everyone else is taken…”? This class is all about that.

Everyone in the February workshop marveled at how different each person’s work looked at the end, which made me ridiculously happy. Same technique, many visions. How right is that? So right.

And I must say that I have some kick-ass art tools and supplies as well as an extremely cool collection of wooden Indian fabric stamps (which everyone really loved). Plus a lot of weird bits and neat vintage paper and embellishments. Cool supplies are half the battle.

I teach a new technique each time before we get started, and last time I shared my secret stamping and embossing trick–something very, very simple that no one ever does, but makes the process soooo versatile. And almost everyone tried it. Yay!

But what’s really great about this workshop is that you don’t have to make space, own supplies or have ideas. Just show up! Yes–let’s re-ignite that creative fire!

And even better, when we’re all done and the studio looks like a truck just ran through it, you get to go home and not worry about it. No clean up required. Admit it, that’s awesome.

I’ve got all the details at Jackson Street Studios–including a 2 minute video to give you a taste of what happens at the workshop. I’ve included it here: (If you’re reading this in an email, you’re going to have to visit the site to see the video. Aw, c’mon, It’ll only take a sec.)

Neat right?

My next class is on March 26th, with a screamin’ good deal available for those who sign up by March 19th. Won’t you join me?

If you live in the NJ/NY area and could use a creative breakthrough or three, this class is the perfect thing.

If you don’t live in the NY/NJ area but need an excuse to come to New York for a long weekend, now you’ve got one. Sign up for my Friday night workshop, create and take home a beautiful matted work of art (flat–easy to fit in a suitcase), and then spend the rest of the weekend hobnobbin’ around the city. Good times.

In addition, I’m offering the workshop monthly because participating regularly can build you some great momentum and catapult your creativity forward. Take the workshop once, thrice or every month like clockwork, it’s up to you! To get you started, I have a special price for your first visit.

We had so much fun at the February workshop–everyone learned, took chances and surprised themselves. I’d love to see you there.

If you can’t come or live far away, could you do me a favor and forward this to someone who you think could benefit from participating in a workshop like this? I appreciate it!

What do you think? Are you ready for a creative breakthrough? Are you creating like mad already? Please leave a comment, I’d love to hear from you!

Today I thought I’d share some images from a series of charcoal drawings I’m working on–mostly because I’m enjoying myself so much making them. They make me want to run through the snowy streets imploring the world to work bigger.  So I have 2 words for you my bloggy friend: Work Bigger! It’s very liberating.

All these drawings are works in progress. At least, I think they are. I’ll keep looking at them and decide over time. It feels good to make them and all kinds of thoughts/feelings/images/experiences are coalescing as I work on them–but more on that at a later date.

What’s nice about working on something that feels right is that it doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks of it. These drawings are a path I’m on for a while, and I figure I’ll just keep making them until I’m done and see what I’ve got at the end.

In the meantime, here they are. They all measure approximately 3 1/2′ tall x 4 1/2′ wide–except, of course, the square one which is as wide as it is tall. (Click on any image to view it bigger. And thanks for looking.)

New Site! New Workshop! New-New-New!

The other thing I’m doing is scrambling around like a mad woman trying to get a new site up and running–a site just for my studio–kind of the local outpost of Make Great Stuff where I’ll be teaching classes and workshops as well as making my own artwork. I’m an excited/nervous duckling.

I had fantasized that I’d be sharing this new site with you here today, but it’s all been more work than I anticipated–nothing unusual there. My brain never ceases to be unrealistic about how much work I can get done.

(I come from a family where work is a highly prized activity–you can pretty much get out of anything, even a funeral, if you say you “have to work”. Not that I do that, try to get out of funerals, but I’m just sayin’. So I’ve inherited a great work ethic, but mostly, it’s kind of a drag. Except for my bosses. Every boss I’ve ever had loved me for it. So, now that I’m my own boss, I’ve kind of a got a conflict of interest thing going. I’m working on it.)

Anyway, in addition to the new site, I had my first workshop in my studio last Friday night. It’s called The Creative Breakthroughs Technique Workshop and it was a big success if I do say so, and I’m dying to share all the details with you about that as well.

Alas, that’s a big part of the new site, so I’m still not done dotting my i’s and crossing my t’s on that either. But I’m hoping to do a big “taaa-daaa” thing here on the blog about all of it on Monday or Tuesday next week. I’ve even got a little video going. Please stay tuned.

So picture me writing and uploading and editing and adapting and pay-paling my weekend away. And taking breaks to work on my big drawings.

(Did I say I’m trying to do a drawing a week? Next week I’m hoping to dedicate a whole blog post to the ease-of-being-creative-when-you’ve-got-a-work-in-progress-going strategy. Kind of a P.S./ Part II to my Magic Spell post the other day.

What are you doing this weekend? Are you snowed in like we are here in NY/NJ? Would you like to share links to some artwork you’re working on? Please leave a comment and share what you’re doing, whatever it is, I’d love to hear from you!

I was having a long drawn out argument with myself this morning–throughout my Shiva Nata dancing, on and off during my meditation practice, as I ate my breakfast and afterward reading my emails. It was a standoff.

No time, I said to myself, for any drawing this morning–straight to the blog, and then you have to edit that video, write several pages for the new website (for local classes that I’m starting to teach!), arrange some coaching appointments, figure out my new paypal thing…the list is endless.

But why, I asked myself, is my artwork always the first to go when I’m super busy? I mean, my whole blog is dedicated to helping my readers figure out real ways to integrate creativity and their art-making back into their lives.

Well then, I told myself, you make an excellent guinea pig. If it were easy, how would you be able to help other busy and artistic people–you’d have no idea what’s involved.

Sigh.

Enter My Daily Ritual

I went to the studio armed with a second cup of coffee, a to-do list a mile long and deadlines looming, still debating whether or not I was going to set aside time for my artwork. (Normally, I make it the first thing I do when I officially “start” the day.)

“Perhaps I’ll write my blog post first, and save it as a treat for later,” I said to myself. Myself said back, “Hmmm, you really think that’s gonna happen?” I said, “Yeah, you’ve got a point…..but…..”

But then I rounded the corner and was saved by my nascent drawing tacked to the wall.  I thought, you know, I probably have a few minutes right now after all.

Ah, the magic of ritual.

The sheer pull of a habit (that, and having an unfinished project out and waiting) allowed me to carve out a little time, not my usual amount perhaps, but some time to work on the next step of my drawing.

And I found myself smiling because the ritual helped me stick to my commitment to myself. And that feels fantastic.

I didn’t work as long as I often do, but that’s okay, it’s a ritual, not a rule. I just worked on the next step in my drawing and spent some time looking at it and listening to it.

And that felt great because it brings an essential part of me to the foreground of my life. Which in turn feeds my soul.

Which in turn allows me to work better on my business plans and deadlines.

The power of the ritual is that it helps me make the time even when it feels like I don’t have the time. It keeps me on track.

This, of course, cuts both ways. When we want to break a habit, the best way to do that is to de-ritualize it.

That’s how I quit smoking way back in the day (in my late twenties when I lived in Memphis, worked in a bar and pretty much everyone around me smoked). I de-ritualized it. I could smoke, but not when drinking coffee. I could smoke, but not when drinking a beer. I could smoke, but not in the car.

Then, when I gave it up entirely, I had already broken the spell of the ritual, so it made stopping a lot easier.

Creating a New Spell/Ending an Old One

If you want to have your creativity play a bigger role in your life, you need to create a new magic spell–a ritual that helps you create.

And you might need to break an old ritual magic spell at the same time. And you can do that in small steps.

For instance, what is your ritual when you come home? Turn on the kettle, stare into the fridge and then turn on the TV? That was ours for a while.

Now we still turn on the kettle (and stare into the fridge), but we turn on the radio instead. We listen to the news instead of watch it, which somehow makes more room for the activities we both care about more than the TV (for my husband, that’s his vintage motorcycles, for me, it’s this blog, my business plans, or my artmaking).

Small shifts like these start to make room for the activities you care about and help break the spell of old habits just because they’re familiar and easy. And it’s strange how much of a difference they can make.

We’re creatures of habit, so we have to develop habits to help us do what we really want. Break one unhelpful spell and introduce a new positive one that will help you create.

20 Minutes

Not sure how to get yourself started? One great way to start a new magic spell is to use my 20 minute technique. (The timer is your friend–keep it do-able and you’ll keep doing it.)

And remember, it can be a long process to undo a compelling ritual. First you have to become more aware of your rituals and see where you’ve got some wiggle room–what will go and what will stay?

You might try to break one magic spell and then realize that it won’t work. That’s okay, try another. Maybe your evening momentum is too strong to change, or involves changing the rituals of too many people (your kids, your partner, etc). Maybe your wiggle room is in the morning. Just observe and see.

The same happens when you start a positive ritual. Maybe you thought you’d want to spend you time doing “x” but really, it turns out not so much. That’s okay, keep your eye out for a good “y” alternative instead. Be nice to yourself, you’ll figure it out.

You’re investigating your options. You’re committing to yourself. And how great is that? So great.

Do you use a ritual to help carve out time to create? Would you like to start? Have you tried and feel discouraged? Leave a comment or send me an email, I’d love to hear from you!

Remind Yourself What You Love About Creating

Sometimes when we get lost in our worries that we have no talent or that our creativity has disappeared, we forget one of the main reasons we make things in the first place.

It’s fun. It feels good. And we love to do it.

Today, I want you to remember all the reasons that you love to make things and write them down.

Tack it to the bathroom mirror or slip it into your wallet. Pick one reason every day and meditate on it–even for a minute or two.

Just close your eyes and say the first part of the sentence when you breathe in, and then say the second part of the sentence when you exhale: (Breath in–”I feel most like myself” Breath out: “When I’m creating.” Breath in–”I feel most like myself” Breath out: “When I’m creating.”)

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Ready? I’ll start!

25 Reasons I Love to Make Things

1. I feel most like myself when I’m creating.
2. I feel connected to everything and everyone when I’m making things.
3. It feels good/right to use my hands.
4. I like that it feels like a physical activity somehow–not so ‘in my head.’
5. I’m very visual and I love looking at things.
6. Creating feeds my aesthetic emotion.
7. I love the feeling of “building” something when I’m creating.
8. I love the feeling of “listening” to my artwork.
9. I love how it feels when what I’m creating turns out the way I want.
10. I love how I feel when I am okay when it doesn’t turn out the way I want.
11. I love feeling excited about making things.
12. I love learning new techniques and acquiring new skills.
13. I love integrating new techniques into my projects.
14. I love solving design problems and thinking about formal elements–like line, color, composition, etc.
15. I love pulling different parts of myself, my thinking, & my sensibilities together into one work of art.
16. I love feeling like an artisan.
17. I love making things I use everyday.
18. I love feeling connected to the objects I’m making.
19. I love the hum of my sewing machine.
20. I love how I feel when I’m completely immersed in my projects.
21. I love talking about art with other people.
22. I love getting inspired by art in museums and galleries.
23. I love giving things I make to people I love.
24. I feel grounded when I’m creating.
25. I like making sense of the world through my creativity.

Okay–you’re turn! (And please share your list or portions of your list in the comments section below!)

Sometimes you can really make headway with your artwork if you just break a few patterns and get out of your comfort zone.

Here’s a few suggestions below to help you get started–if you think of any others, please share them in the comments–I love trying new techniques!

1. Scale

   Get Bigger! Or get smaller, but go in the opposite direction from what you usually make. (My hunch is probably that your work could get bigger–women especially tend to keep our work small.)

   It might feel hard or embarrassing to take up space like this, but it can also be very liberating. I’m working on a series of large drawings right now–all around 42″ x 48″ and I’m simply amazed at how great it feels to work big like this.

2. Color Palette

   Let’s face it, we’re all drawn to particular color combinations. Line your work up (or photos of your work) and take a look at your palette. Could you go to the opposite side of the color wheel?  Could you introduce or replace a color in your normal repertoire?

   Or keep your palette, but change the value–try pastels (or brights) instead. Flip through art and fashion magazines for fresh color ideas that might inspire you and try on someone else’s favorite color combos for size.

3. Materials

   Can you combine your usual materials in a fresh way or treat them differently? Cut up drawings you don’t love and collage them into something you suddenly do? Knit with something unexpected–horsehair, strips from plastic bags? Make a necklace from something other than beads?

4. Simplify

   How simple can you  make something and still have it work? Or maybe work better? Test the outer limits of “less is more”.

   I know this is a challenge for me–somehow if I feel  like something is too easy or simple, it doesn’t count or I’ve cheated, but whenever I challenge myself this way, I’m almost always pleased with the results.

5. Go Deeper

   Not quite the opposite of simplify, but how far can you push something? This can be hard to test when we start really liking something we’re working on because we get afraid of “ruining” it. But foraging forward can be so eye-opening.

   Even if you do “go too far” and kind of wish you hadn’t, what about seeing what you can do to get back again? How can you stay with something until it’s truly resolved?

   Sometimes I’ll go deeper and realize crap, this piece really looked better before–maybe I should have stopped back then. I think it’s important at this point to keep going  because hanging in there can produce some surprisingly pleasing results–AND really boost your confidence about your creative problem solving skills.

   Once you know you can “ruin” something and then make it successful again, you feel more in charge of your process, less afraid to make a mistake.

   One really useful thing to do is to take a picture of your piece at a point where you think you like it, but feel like there’s still more to do. When I get myself lost by going deeper, I’ll print the “before” picture out and meditate on the pair side by side and often new solutions emerge that way as well.

What do you think? What do you do when you need to mix it up? Leave a comment, I’d love to hear about your process!

When we’re stuck in our creativity, we usually have secret “rules” about making art that are part of the stuck.

We may or may not be aware of these rules, but they often can go something like this:

>”Real artists make work every day. So I guess I’m not a real artist.”

Or another variation:

>”Real artists are disciplined and make work every day. The fact that I don’t shows that I’m neither disciplined nor an artist.” (Great double whammy that one.)

>”Real artists simply must create, all the time. If I really wanted to make art, I’d do it, and since I’m not, I guess I don’t.” (Listen, if you didn’t really want to be creative and make things, that sentence wouldn’t make you feel bad. But since it does, it shows that you DO want to. But we’re complicated, that’s why we can want to do things and not do them.”)

>”A real artist makes a living creating their work.” (Plenty of talented, passionate art makers don’t make a living making their art. The art market is not the art world.)

And then there’s these:

>”I’m too old to start now.”

>”At some point, you just have to let that part of you go.”

>”Making art is self-indulgent.”

>”Setting aside time to make my work is putting it ahead of my family and that’s selfish.”

Mean. Mean. Mean. And none of them true.

Why We Have Them

What are your rules about making art and how are they stopping you?

Sometimes it’s the values that you grew up with that are the source. This is especially common for beliefs and rules about art being child’s play, not for adults, too self-indulgent.

(Self-discipline was a highly admired trait in my household growing up, and a lot of my rules tend to revolve around that. I’m rarely measuring up to my own ideas of what I should accomplish, the way I should learn a new technique, how often I should create, etc.)

Sometimes our mean rules are really there to protect us…from taking a risk, from feeling bad, from committing to ourselves, etc. They aren’t really protecting us, but they think they are.

They also let us off the hook.

Which is making a weird trade off–we tell ourselves something that makes us feel bad, but now we don’t have to try. Or face some other worry, like finding out we’re really not that good after all, or some other awful thought-fear we’re trying to keep at arm’s length.

This fear-of-what-we-might-find-out can be a big one, and it has sneaky tricks for maintaining its own existence. It especially loves rules because they’re a great way for it to masquerade as the immutable, unchangeable nature of things. And who can bother changing that?

It’s a Family Affair

Our mean rules about our creativity also tend to have close cousins in other beliefs we have–ideas we have about being responsible, proper ways to support our families, beliefs about scarcity, definitions about what makes a good parent, notions of being a hard worker, etc.

Are any of them really serving you?

Letting go of the rules that don’t serve is usually a gradual process, I know it’s been for me. But identifying them and figuring out how they serve some part of you, while not serving the part of you that yearns to create is so helpful.

Because the part of you that yearns to create deserves more room at the inn.

And the part of you that is scared also deserves some acknowledgment. Because witnessing our fear is honoring it.

And strangely, honoring it shifts the power dynamic–you own the space now–the fear no longer owns you.

And it’ll probably still be a gradual process as this comfortable habit-fear masquerading as a rule desperately tries to climb into the back window of your thinking, sometimes successfully (usually when your defenses are down and the stress is high).

But take heart, things won’t be the same anymore between you even when they do sneak back in. It’ll be for shorter and shorter visits each time.

Because you’re on to them now and you’re not buying their story.

What do you think? Are secret rules holding you back? Lord knows I’ve had my share! Leave a comment or write me an email, I’d love to hear from you!

And if you haven’t already, click here to subscribe and receive updates like this one in your email inbox!

I’ve been feverishly working on several class ideas that I want to offer here on the site and at my studio to help everyone feel freed up to play, experiment and gleefully wade into the creative experience again.

It’s taking much longer than I anticipated.

Partly because I tend to underestimate how long things take and partly because these are ambitious ideas that really do require a lot of thought, planning, and practice to be the way I want them to be.

Big, time-consuming projects that may or may not work out.

Oh the worrying! I mean, I really want to get it right–to create something great that will empower people. Oh the fretting! What if I make this class and no one wants to come? What if it’s all a mistake and I’ve “wasted my time.”

What then?

Risky Business

In order to really develop a big idea, to create something complicated or try something challenging, we have to invest time in what we’re doing, even when we’re not sure it’ll work out.

We have to choose a direction and wander down that path for quite a while before knowing if it’s a way through or a dead end.

It’s a risk, no doubt about it.

And when you have a finite amount of time to create, you might think, what if I do all that work, and then it’s for nothing? What if I waste my precious free time on a project that doesn’t work out in the end? Harsh.

When we do that though, it’s because we defined that time as “wasted,” not because it actually is wasted. And defining the time as “wasted” is not honoring the process.

Sigh.

So easy to say, so hard to feel.

You could be thinking to yourself, “I just spent 4 freaking months making this thing and then I realize here at the end that it just won’t work out for x, y, or z reason and you want me to honor the process! Gaaahhhhh, I’m devastated!”

Which is why we don’t want to take the risk on a big, hard or complicated idea.

And when you do and it doesn’t work out, you probably do need to throw yourself down on the bed and have a good cry, which might also involve some yell-explaining at your perplexed husband/partner when they don’t understand why your project is “ruined” and why you’re lying on the bed sobbing about a weird knitted thing they didn’t understand in the first place.

Or worse, when they say something along the lines of  “Yeah, I did think you spent an awful lot of money on those supplies.” Ugh.

So what to do?

Monday Morning Quarterbacks Need Not Apply

An important step to letting go of this fear is really embracing the fact that there was no other way to know what you know now except by doing it. Taking out your compass, choosing a direction and setting forth.

You had to take a leap of faith and give your idea time and attention in order to find out what you know now.

You couldn’t have skipped this step–not if you were “smarter” or “more together” or  “more talented” or just plain “somebody else”.

This is true, it’s just hard to really feel that it’s true.

It’s easy to see now what went wrong, because the “mistake” or “failure” has all already happened. Kicking yourself down the street after the fact is cheap, easy, and unfair.

And when your next project does work out, it’s because you tried the one that did not work out. Your successes basically have your “failures” to thank or they wouldn’t exist.

So it’s not that you or I were stupid to have worked on projects that “fail”, it’s that each/any unsuccessful attempt we make teaches us something we need to know in order to be able to create the next (successful) thing.

It’s basically a rule of the universe.

I’m not saying it’s easy, I’m just saying it’s a rule of the universe.

And buying into this law isn’t indulging yourself or letting yourself off too easy, it’s taking a real step toward being committed to your own happiness and to living your life with integrity.

Honoring your ideas with action when no one can guarantee your success takes some guts.

This is no small thing. But you are worth it.

And so am I.

Which is why, even though my fear and worry will continue to be low-grade background noise as I work, it’s time for me to get off the computer and attend to my class and project ideas to the best of my ability, to try to make something great.

Because if it doesn’t work out, I’ll still be a lot closer to getting it right than I was before I started.

What do you think? Do you have big ideas that you feel afraid to work on?  Do you stick to safe projects you know will work? Or do you have things you do to combat that fear that you can share? Please leave a comment, I’d love to hear from you.

It’s that time again!

I’m a huge poetry fan, as I was an English major back in the day, along with studying art, and poetry is one of my earliest loves. I feel like it’s the most marginalized art form, and most of us were taught poetry in school by people who didn’t like it. What a shame, since so often it’s the art form we reach for when we need to express our most important emotions.

I thought the exuberance of this poem would be good for a grey winter day (like the one we’re having here in the Northeast) and e.e. cummings‘ playfulness with language is a great inspiration for doing your own thing in whatever your art form.

You  might not know that e.e. cummings also painted and drew, and was influenced by Surrealism, which I talked about recently in my blog post on Automatic Drawing.

Enjoy.

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

by e.e. cummings

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In my last post, Bags of Gratitude, I mentioned two big takeaways I got from a talk I heard from motivational speaker Kevin Touhey, but I only wrote about one.

The second one is something I’ve wrestled with on and off for a long time–pushing past rejection.

As part of his talk, Kevin shared his experience of writing a memoir/motivational how-to book and trying to get it published. He sent his book out to fifty-two publishers and they all rejected him.

Fifty-two. 5-2.

And then he published it himself.

It got to 2nd place on the Amazon best-seller list, and now he has a publisher for his 2nd edition.

As I listened to his story, I thought, hmmm, when would I have quit? When would I have thought that I needed to read the writing on the wall and understand that what I had written was no good? Twenty rejections? Eleven rejections? Thirty-one?

All my life I have been so moved by stories of people ignoring rejection or prevailing wisdom about what’s “good” or “worthy” and what isn’t, and turning their dreams into success.

I’ve marveled at their emotional fortitude and lack of self-doubt. Their unwavering belief in what’s they’ve created above and beyond what anyone else thinks about it.

Mattering

I asked Kevin how he balanced trying to make changes based on criticism he received and plowing forward with his vision that his book was indeed worth publishing the way it was.

He admitted that some of the criticism really hurt and he did take some of it to heart, but because he knew why he’d written it, it was the why that sustained him and drove him forward.

Interesting.

Could I think that something I made was so important that I must share it with the world when lots of experts were quite happy to tell me, no it isn’t?

Perceiving the “going forward in the face of rejection” as an insistence that something I’ve made is so important has always kind of made me uncomfortable.

But then I realized it isn’t so much about insisting that something you’ve made is important, it’s more about simply believing that it’s valid. As valid as anything else. You can make something and simply try hard to share it because you want to.

And when someone doesn’t like something, (or 52 someones in Kevin’s case) why should you or I or Kevin Touhey ever believe someone else’s opinion of something we’ve made MORE than our own?

Why should we put our destinies in someone else’s hands like that?

Whatever the reasons for why, in the past, I might have made that mistake, it’s my life right now, and why not see about changing that?

Because I also believe I’m an evolving, growing creature excited by the future and in love with possibility.

Being on Your Own Side

Kevin Touhey wrote a book and wanted it published. He asked 52 publishers to do it and they all said no, so he did it himself and created an Amazon best-seller. And then a publisher asked him.

His story another example of being on your own side. And the more you’re on your own side, the more your creativity can shine. The more you’re on your own side, the more permission you give yourself to do what you need/want/dream of doing.

Why not? This is your life, every minute of it.

Right Now

So I ask you, at what number of rejections do you think you would have thrown in the towel?

Let’s call that “The Past.”

And now I ask you to think about the positive, real reasons why you love to make things and how you feel when you’re creative and engaged.

Do you feel good? Fulfilled? Alive? Most yourself? Write them down. Now put your hand on your heart and repeat those truths to yourself.

Let’s call this “The Long Now.” Real honest truths you can access anytime.

Are You In?

I’ve also decided, in the course of writing this blog post, to write “52″ on a post-it note and stick it above my computer as a reminder to be on my own side when I’m sticking my neck out and doing hard things like writing personal blog posts, creating classes, planning workshops, or designing kits.

To be on my own side when I make my artwork and share it with friends, post it on the internet, or approach a gallery owner about showing it.

How about you? You in?