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There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
~~T.S. Eliot, from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
~~T.S. Eliot, from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
In placid hours well-pleased we dream
Of many a brave unbodied scheme.
But form to lend, pulsed life create,
What unlike things must meet and mate:
A flame to melt—a wind to freeze;
Sad patience—joyous energies;
Humility—yet pride and scorn;
Instinct and study; love and hate;
Audacity—reverence. These must mate,
And fuse with Jacob’s mystic heart,
To wrestle with the angel—Art.
~~Herman Melville, Art
OK, it’s imperishable or a world as Will
& Idea, a Hindu illusion that our habits continuously
Create. Whatever I think, it
Keeps changing from bright to dark, from clear
To colored: Thus before I began to think and
So after I’ve stopped, as if it were real & I
Were its illusion
~~Philip Whalen, from The Same Old Jazz
Her pencil poised, she’s ready to create,
Then listens to her mind’s perverse debate
On whether what she does serves any use;
And that is all she needs for an excuse
To spend all afternoon and half the night
Enjoying poems other people write.
~~Leslie Monsour, The Education of a Poet
Flesh of the sky, child of the sky, the mind
Has been obligated from the beginning
To create an ordered universe
As the only possible proof of its own inheritance.
~~Pattiann Rogers, from The Origin of Order
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Luckily I don’t have to shave my head, or worry about the current [flabby] state of my abs and pecs, because this boot camp is all about creativity. And it’s FREE. Sign up? I just did. It runs June 6-18.
I don’t know what to expect, exactly, but it might show up in my blog posts during that period.
My kids are extremely creative; my oldest daughter teaches 1st grade (and is Teacher of the Year, hell yeah) and she can whip up the coolest things without even thinking about it. The kids in her classes are lucky ducks. My second daughter is an artist (buy her work here please, at monkeyrope press…but you have to move quickly because her stuff is selling like hotcakes!). The work in her shop is her commercial stuff; she’s very much a conceptual artist too, but that work shows up in galleries rather than in her etsy shop. My son is just so gifted verbally, and he’s hilarious and creative without giving it a second’s thought.
Their father likes to draw, and I make a lot of stuff, so I guess they came by it honestly, but they took our meager gifts to new heights. I wish I were more creative; I’m a pretty good technician, but I wouldn’t say I’m creative, except with language now and then.
So here’s to boot camp, and to more creativity in the world!
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I miss David Foster Wallace. A lot. I find myself thinking about him, about his way of being in the world (and of course the fact that he’s not here). There is a new book coming out titled Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself: A Road Trip with David Foster Wallace, written by Rolling Stone reporter David Lipsky, and this little DFW quote is used in a number of feature articles about the book:
“If you can think of times in your life that you’ve treated people with extraordinary decency and love, and pure uninterested concern, just because they were valuable as human beings. The ability to do that with ourselves. To treat ourselves the way we would treat a really good, precious friend. Or a tiny child of ours that we absolutely loved more than life itself. And I think it’s probably possible to achieve that. I think part of the job we’re here for is to learn how to do it. I know that sounds a little pious.”
It’s coming out in paper, and in Kindle, and I just preordered the Kindle edition which will release April 13.
It is hard to do that, to be as gentle and compassionate with ourselves as we are with others. (Well, for most people anyway – discounting the truly mean and sadistic.) Of course we know our own true hearts, our own sometimes cruel and mean-spirited thoughts about other people or the world. We know those things about ourselves, and I believe we would be stunned to be let in on the internal dialogue of people we know…..we’d be stunned to learn the things they think, the things they think about us, even though we know we have the same types of thoughts. But we think we are the mean-spirited one, we know that about ourselves. There is a saying in AA (I think?) that goes something like “don’t judge your insides by other peoples’ outsides.” That’s brilliant! We do that, all the time. We struggle, but it looks like other people don’t so we must be failures.
I have a friend who was trying to learn how to knit – to offer a very simple example – and she made mistakes in her first scarf. She had to rip out rows. Her work was flawed and didn’t look all that great. And she thought there was something wrong, she didn’t have the makings of a knitter. But we all make mistakes, and rip out rows, and are aware of that weird place under the arm where we had too many stitches and tried to fix it by doing some strange decreases that really don’t look all that good but if we keep our arm at our side maybe no one will notice and anyway I don’t feel like ripping back so many rows I just want to get the damned thing done.
Of course there’s a fine line between being compassionate with ourselves and excusing ourselves a little too easily. I usually err on the side of keeping myself on the hook, flaying myself with recrimination for every lazy thing, every uncaring thing, I shouldn’t be so harsh, I should’ve I could’ve I would’ve. I don’t want to fail to take responsibility for what I do and say, probably to a pathological extent. But compassion….I could think about how I try so hard, and how I mean well and struggle with my own difficult places just as others do.
All at once, spring appeared in the trees and flowers in my city – it sure helps. The pale greens and bright yellows and pinks make me feel expansive, compassionate, open – even with myself. I wish I’d had my camera with me this morning to show you, but someone else’s photo will suffice for now:
[photo courtesy of newyork808]
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#1. Nothing screams “woman of a certain age” like a big fan on the desktop blowing on medium speed. During the month of February. In very cold Manhattan. What’s next for me – red hats and purple sweaters? 
festival!
#2. Tonight is Night of Knitting at the City Bakery Hot Chocolate Festival. Am I excited?! I’m restraining myself from rampant and later-embarrassing overuse of exclamation points. I’m a very shy person who rarely leaves home, except to go to work, but I’m looking forward to being in this place tonight, full of strangers who also knit and love hot chocolate. For $30, City Bakery provides a full (and sumptuous, I’m sure) dinner, plus dessert, and unlimited wine, beer, coffee, and 10 kinds of hot chocolate. Plus, knitting workshops galore, local yarn shops representing, and a spinning workshop. The event sold out weeks ago, so I’m glad I hopped on it as soon as it was announced. I don’t know a soul (unless I don’t know that I know you through rav), but I cannot wait.
#3. Very sadly, since there’s just not enough time in the day/week, I don’t get to read nearly as much as I’d like. I belong to a book club that meets once a month, and it takes me the entire month to get the book read. Some months I can’t even accomplish that. Last month’s book was just wonderful – Unaccustomed Earth, by Jhumpa Lahiri, as was this month’s book – The Partisan’s Daughter, by Louis de Bernieres. It’s not always the case that I like (or can even bear to read) our group’s selections, so it was great having two in a row that were rich and wonderful. I even finished The Partisan’s Daughter a few days early, so I flipped to the menu on my Kindle en route to work this morning and started reading The Creative Habit: Learn it and Use it for Life, by Twyla Tharp. It’s written with an easy tone, as if she’s just talking to you, and so far it’s good – about the discipline and routine that feed creativity. I am a creative person, but in the realm of craft, not art. I have loved books and words with great intensity, my whole life. My mind spontaneously produces wonderful images and metaphors. A couple of weeks ago, I described a feeling of being a hollow shell full of birds. Wow! Evocative, powerful, and apt. But when I sit down to write, everything flattens. All psychological depth disappears and I write “and then she blah blah blah, and then he blah blah blah. And then they blah blah blah.” BO-RING.
Like many people, I have a sense that if I could just let go, I could be more creative. Of course, that’s easy to say! But when you sit at your desk, how do you “let go?” I do like the idea of discipline and routine as an entry to a creative process, so maybe I’ll try that. Anyway, the book is good, applicable to anyone who is (or wants to be) creative in any way, and not at all New Age-y or mysterious. You might be touched by God, as Mozart was said to be, but he also worked harder than anyone else, and was much more disciplined than the movie Amadeus suggested, so his gift worked because he worked it.
And, it’s Thursday – halle-flippin-lujah!
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knitting in croatia
If you met me, you’d see a tall 51-year old woman with a big smile and bad posture. You’d hear my deep Texas accent, which I can’t seem to hide even for delicate New Yorkers’ ears, no matter how hard I try. You’d also hear about all the things I love – my dear husband and our many travels; my oldest daughter and her husband, who live in Austin; my 2nd daughter and her husband, who live in Chicago; my son who lives here in Manhattan and who is a dashing man about town; and my youngest daughter, who is a sophomore in college, far away in Texas. You’d hear about social psychology, since I have a PhD in the subject and until very recently, acquired books in social psychology for a famous university press, the one that published the very first book. Now, I am a writer and editorial consultant, and I assist publishers with market research for online product development.
You’d also hear – of course – about all the creative things I love to do, and have been doing since I was five years old. I started embroidering pillowcases during play periods in pre-school, and graduated to crochet when my Aunt Meecie (Aint Meecie, if you’re from the south) taught me how to chain stitch. I’d chain stitch my way through skein after skein of acrylic yarn, always begging my grandfather Big Daddy to run to Ben Franklin’s for more yarn. He’d grumble, then put in his teeth and make a yarn run. Gradually my handwork and creative outlets became more sophisticated, and I branched out: handwork such as knitting, quilting, spinning, weaving, lacemaking, a bit of crocheting, and sewing; photography; and baking.
Or we could talk about books! I’m always up for a discussion about any books by Rushdie, or Cormac McCarthy (Blood Meridian, anyone? anyone? Bueller?), or Victor Hugo, or Vonnegut, or Robert Solomon, or Moby Dick, or poems by Yeats or Heaney or Milosz. Lots more – I love to read. Or we could talk about movies – I tend not to find blockbusters very interesting, but can talk til the cows come home about “littler” movies.
my other blog
Food is always an easy subject to talk about, since most people like it. My husband and I keep a food blog called Luscious – check it out! I love to bake, though when my kids were at home, I cooked big dinners every night. Now, I’m just the baker, and baking bread is one of my weekly activities, most weeks. See? I haven’t met a recipe I didn’t love to bake. My husband does the cooking for us, and he’s a wonderful natural cook, no recipes for that guy. He has a fantastic taste imagination, and daydreams about what to make us for dinner.
I also really love art of all kinds, especially the art of a young printmaker and book artist based in Chicago whose work can be found here. Check her out, and buy something!
And finally, just so you don’t think I’m all fancy Manhattan-like, my secret shames include America’s Funniest Home Videos, Poptarts, and Cap’n Crunch. I can’t stop laughing at the first one, and could eat the last two until the end of my days.
I adore your comments, and try to answer every single one. But if you want to talk off-line (well, off-blog-line anyway), feel free to email me; I also have a little business making mastheads for blogs and websites, so you can write me about that too! The icon below is a clickable link to my email address:
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