If you are a creative person, I’m sure you are periodically met with the awe and wonder of others who are genuinely admiring of your talent. Me, too. What these wonderful and complimentary people are generally unaware of are the challenges that come along with having our gifts.
Earlier today, I watched a new song/video from someone I greatly admire, and was marveling at how easy he makes it look. But I also know that’s not his whole story any more than it is when I share my artwork or my writing.
As an artist, there seems to be a natural desire to please an audience, but I also know that that’s not where it’s at. It’s about telling our truth, about letting our truth, and the reality of our experience, travel out into the world and resonate with the people who need and want to hear it.
In an environment where we are meticulously measured in likes, comments, shares, algorithms, and endless online assessments, we have to be braver than ever. We have to unlock, untie, unfold our truest meanings, love them for however paltry and confused they may sometimes seem, and share them anyway. The world needs us. I believe that.
Bloom by Lullanas is a sweet, kinda shy, maybe first-love song, a cover originally by The Paper Kites, but done quite differently. Sung by two super-talented sisters, Bloom became an instant favorite of mine. Take a listen …
It’s still April, and it’s still National Poetry Month. I’ve selected three more poems that I like, created some graphics, and hope you enjoy them, too.
Robert Frost is another of our great American poets, and for this post, I read quite a few of his, most unknown to me, and loved this one, Come In.”
How could it truly be poetry month without a love poem or two? The first, “Falling Stars”, is written by Austrian poet, Raine Maria Rilke, who published in German, and changed the way poetry was written and expressed.
Tyler Knott Gregson is a modern day American poet and author who first began to achieve fame for his poetry on social media in 2009.
All things are possible. Hope you enjoyed the poetry!
I love poetry. You? April is National Poetry Month, so I thought I’d share the occasional poem that I prepared some graphics for. There may be more, but this is what I’m posting so far.
I don’t know if we could have a proper national poetry month here without our wonderful American poet, Emily Dickinson.
A love poem of sorts by another great American writer, poet and novelist, Alice Walker.
Okay, it’s true — Tennessee Williams is a playwright, but this seems like poetry to me, so I took a small liberty.
Wherever you live, why not find some poetry this month – fill your heart with gladness, sorrow, life, love – some poetry.
My love of nature and animals began when I was very, very young. I give some of the credit to my Dad, who was the gardener in the family, and who was always so kind and considerate to all creatures, including the bumblebees and wasps that occasionally got in the house.
People were often surprised that I knew the names of so many flowers and plants at such an early age. Generally, it was because my Dad had planted them somewhere around the house or in the yard, and I followed him with endless questions. At other times, it was because our family visited places like the Bronx Botanical Gardens, or the Bronx Zoo (now the Bronx Zoological Park). I consider myself very lucky to have had my innate love of animals and nature nurtured as I did.
For many of us, it’s not really all that far to walk someplace to appreciate the beauty of nature. Being in nature is so healing, so restorative, to mind and spirit. I am reminding myself – and you, too, if you’d like a reminder – to take a little time among the trees, flowers, and greening earth.
The day goes quickly and we can miss the chance. Life goes quickly, and we can miss the chance.
I have always been inspired by quotes from great thinkers. But when those quotes are also from artists, even more so. I have collected a few to share, hoping that you, too, may be inspired! Happy Spring!
“A scientist can pretend that his work isn’t himself, it’s merely the impersonal truth. An artist can’t hide behind the truth. He can’t hide anywhere.” ― Ursula K. LeGuin
“If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.” ― Edward Hopper
“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost.” ― Martha Graham
“To be an artist means never to avert one’s eyes.” ― Akira Kurosawa
“Deliver me from writers who say the way they live doesn’t matter. I’m not sure a bad person can write a good book. If art doesn’t make us better, then what on earth is it for.” ― Alice Walker
“Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.” ― C.S. Lewis
“Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist–a master–and that is what Auguste Rodin was–can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is . . . and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be . . . and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body.” ― Robert A. Heinlein
Here are the three books that I just picked up from the library.
I am the first one to say that there’s nothing like settling down with a good book. But as of late, I have had a very hard time settling down with just one book that I really want to read. I pick one up, start it, and put it down. Endlessly, it seems. We all go through phases like this, right?
In part, at my end, the restlessness comes from the non-stop changes in my home, and recently, weeks of construction noise in an adjacent room. But I think the larger issue is that as we grow and evolve we want to read different things, and we don’t quite know what “fits” us now.
In this frame of mind, I was able to clear out one half of my collection of books waiting to be read (donated to my library’s little For Sale shelf.) But what to read? When in such a restless mood, I find that something with suspense, intrigue, mystery is a decent bet. And so, the three books above, all good choices. Which did I start? The book at left. The jacket flap … Never pray to the gods that answer after dark. OK, I’m in.
What do you look for when you’re restless and can’t settle on what to read?
We are in February’s final days, but there’s still time to celebrate love. I had somehow never heard of Rabindranath Tagore, the poet, before last year. Here is one of his many beautiful poems about love.
But It Is Love
Your questioning eyes are sad. They seek to know my meaning as the moon would fathom the sea. I have bared my life before your eyes from end to end, with nothing hidden or held back. That is why you know me not.
If it were only a gem I could break it into a hundred pieces and string them into a chain to put on your neck. If it were only a flower, round and small and sweet, I could pluck it from its stem to set it in your hair.
But it is a heart, my beloved. Where are its shores and its bottom?
You know not the limits of this kingdom, still you are its queen. If it were only a moment of pleasure it would flower in an easy smile, and you could see it and read it in a moment. If it were merely a pain it would melt in limpid tears, reflecting its inmost secret without a word.
But it is love, my beloved. Its pleasure and pain are boundless, and endless its wants and wealth. It is as near to you as your life, but you can never wholly knowit.
I hope love, beauty, and the gift of wonder have touched you this February.
Tell me your story and I’ll show you your bravery. Show me your scars and I will tell you of your beauty. Share with me your suffering and I will bow to your depth. Confide in me your fears and I will honour your strength. You have it all, darling. You have it all inside of you. And your genius shows when you least imagine it. Don’t forsake anything about your soul, your body, your mind, your heart. It is both the light and the darkness that make this world beautiful. Same with you, lovely one. Same with you. – S.C. Lourie
Thanks to Barb for sharing a post with these beautiful words.
… a desire to return to the final version of the blue heron I’d wanted to do.
Version #3 is a combo of pen and ink, watercolor, and digital. Just playing around is not always something we (creatives) allow ourselves often enough, but it’s the only way we find new things and grow.
It seems that there are periods in our lives when we have plans, goals, dreams, and we are just not going to get to them when we want. Plans? What are those?
To create art, to plan a future, to write, to do any of the things that a freelancer wants and needs to do takes blocks of time, and more importantly, focus. And that’s what I have been sorely missing.
Sorting out my life in the interest of giving up 40% of my second floor has been a two-part journey. The first part is choosing what belongings need to stay and which to go. Thanks to Buy Nothing, mentioned in an earlier post, I was able to find new homes for 45 items. But the second part is the need to go through everything I own – every closet, dresser, storage area – to see what no longer aligns with who I am right now, and THAT has been a life review of large proportions.
It has entailed remembering so much – joy, sorrow, laughter – through photos, art, and other items infused with memories. I keep trying to focus on where I’m going, but between Buy Nothing and a life review, on top of the demands of everyday life, I have none. I’ve lost so much time. And energy. The blue heron is a tiny example – started out with a color sketch, then another version in watercolor, and my plan was/is to do a digital rendering. That was a week ago.
I remind myself to have patience, and to trust, as I do believe, that everything is unfolding in exactly the right way and at exactly the right time, always for me. It’s all almost done. Patience and trust … working on it, working on it.
You know that feeling of being all over the place? Yeah. That’s where I am. There are so many things that I both need to do and want to do (not necessarily the same things), and I feel like I’m in the center of the room, spinning, not knowing which way to go.
A fellow writerly blogger, Pam, just did a clever post on her blog, roughwighting, which weaves the titles of many of the books she’s read this past year into a coherent story. Then she lists allllll the books she’s read. Talk about intimidating! What have I been doing with myself in 2023 that I haven’t read that many?? (Please cue the self-pity.)
She asks what is the best book we’ve read in 2023, and at least I can answer that one – The Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman. It expanded my list of my 6 favorite novels of all time to 7. But back to the spinning ….
Many, many things need to be done to get my show on the road to both fulfill my dreams and make a living – that’s my actual workload. Love it all, but a big chunk of my time.
I want to read my current book, Educated by Tara Westover. Also the two non-fiction I’m reading, The Creative Act by Rick Rubin and Sensitive is the New Strong by Anita Moorjani. I want to listen to more music, and keep watching the Kdrama I’m really enjoying, Itaewon Class
But I feel like baking chocolate chip cookies. And I’ve been thinking of trying the faux tuna I bought in a tuna-noodle casserole and need to find a recipe.
And I have still more sorting and purging to do of belongings, art, and furniture in the back bedroom I’m losing to it being annexed to next door, and need to find homes for it all, a consuming task.
I need to start drawing for my own book. I want to update a manuscript or two to send to publishers.
A bit more snow shoveling to do. Maybe tomorrow, some nice photos of the recent snowfall. (Above is an earlier snow shot.) And a quick run out to get fresh eggs.
I do make lists, but I think we sometimes have to sit ourselves down and remind ourselves that we really are one person, forgive ourselves for not being super-human. Stop spinning. Take the deep breath we need to take. And breathe. Just breathe.
Still A Dreamer 