What I have learned about words is that they don’t respond well to control. They prefer surrender and freedom. They ask that I trust them a bit more. As Anne Lamott says, they wouldn’t mind if I would just learn that it is ok to make a mess. It is perfectly alright to splatter them over the page and trust…because the subconscious force of writing, that force which makes all the surprise and the energy, gets locked up when I am afraid of coloring outside the lines.
If words are my paint, and the page is my canvass, than I am invited to stand before the easel quite differently– than, say, if my words were little controlled specimens in a lab experiment. Last summer, when I finger painted for the first time since I was 7, I tasted something of this messy, colorful process that I would like to try with my words on a page.
But, as far as I can tell, there are two reasons I don’t trust making a mess. Very basically, I don’t trust I can clean it up. I am just learning to believe that in the disorder something will emerge that guides the telling of the story, and that I can trust the story. And the second reason I fear messes, is that I feel out of control and I simply hate looking at incompletion. I get anxious when I have to look down on the “shitty first draft” as Anne Lamott dubs it. I like to be in control (I know that will shock most of you.) And so, it is fascinating that I, at the moment, seem to be choosing words for my life vocation.
I spend most of my days wrestling with them; they are quite devilish.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
My Writing Retreat
It was a lovely weekend by the sea.
I took another writing retreat (these are getting more common in my life), but this one was much more restful and rejuvenating. I admit, I was rather proud of myself, because I think I am getting much better at cultivating a creative process that is actually enjoyable, and not just obsessive and exhausting. Last time I went to the cabin to write, I took one sorry little excursion away from my computer. This time, I allowed myself ample time to roam around the cliffs overlooking the sea, read poetry, lay in the sunshine, and make delicious food. I usually gave myself three writing sessions a day that were about 1-2 hours long; I discovered that having limits for my work time and giving myself rewards was a much happier and even more efficient way to go.
I had such a delightful time, AND I wrote some decent stuff. I think writing is getting easier for me…slowly.
The illustrious Mr. Rigsby joined me for a day, as well, and my stomach muscles are still sore from laughing so much. He wins the award for the person most likely to crack me up. He did a good job of letting me work, and he did a good job of encouraging me to go lay by the pool, too. Mr. Rigsby is very skilled at loafing–among his other talents, of course– so he is teaching me how also to loaf. The first hot sunshine of the summer was an excellent invitation to leave the cabin, abandon my words, and just go play outside. As usual, I have beaten Mr. Rigsby at acquiring the first summer tan (don’t worry, I even use sunscreen), and I am still as vain as ever about this 13 year competition between us.
All in all, it was very hard to come back from the weekend. When I got home last night, I bought dinner and sat out on the grass at 10 p.m., just sort of picnicking on a beautiful summer evening and refusing to go inside. These summer days are glorious, but the summer nights might be even more exquisite. Last evening, there was that warm, refreshing breeze that I haven’t felt since last August.
I took another writing retreat (these are getting more common in my life), but this one was much more restful and rejuvenating. I admit, I was rather proud of myself, because I think I am getting much better at cultivating a creative process that is actually enjoyable, and not just obsessive and exhausting. Last time I went to the cabin to write, I took one sorry little excursion away from my computer. This time, I allowed myself ample time to roam around the cliffs overlooking the sea, read poetry, lay in the sunshine, and make delicious food. I usually gave myself three writing sessions a day that were about 1-2 hours long; I discovered that having limits for my work time and giving myself rewards was a much happier and even more efficient way to go.
I had such a delightful time, AND I wrote some decent stuff. I think writing is getting easier for me…slowly.
The illustrious Mr. Rigsby joined me for a day, as well, and my stomach muscles are still sore from laughing so much. He wins the award for the person most likely to crack me up. He did a good job of letting me work, and he did a good job of encouraging me to go lay by the pool, too. Mr. Rigsby is very skilled at loafing–among his other talents, of course– so he is teaching me how also to loaf. The first hot sunshine of the summer was an excellent invitation to leave the cabin, abandon my words, and just go play outside. As usual, I have beaten Mr. Rigsby at acquiring the first summer tan (don’t worry, I even use sunscreen), and I am still as vain as ever about this 13 year competition between us.
All in all, it was very hard to come back from the weekend. When I got home last night, I bought dinner and sat out on the grass at 10 p.m., just sort of picnicking on a beautiful summer evening and refusing to go inside. These summer days are glorious, but the summer nights might be even more exquisite. Last evening, there was that warm, refreshing breeze that I haven’t felt since last August.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Introducing Nick Vu
I have been meaning to introduce Nick Vu to you for quite a while, because he is going to be famous, and it will be extraordinarily fun for me that you first heard about him on my blog. Nick Vu is one of those people who is destined to catalyze large-scale social trends, like the tech genius who started Facebook or the unknown mastermind who got legions of men to sport the faux hawk in cities across America. Nick Vu is currently working on a top-secret project, and you can go to http://waxartistic.com/ to find out more.
Nick Vu is also one of the founding members of West Wing, a group of 4 of us who meet twice a month to provide support to each other as we envision and create what we want in our lives. (This group has been absolutely necessary for me as I write my book.) Each of us is taking risks towards our goals, and we check in on our fears, our desires, our dreams, our roadblocks, and our sleeping strategies. (Some of us are a wee bit obsessive compulsive, so we need to be reminded to sleep.)
Nick Vu is trained in cognitive behavioral psychology. He likes data and charts, and so he is good for the rest of us. All the other members of West Wing are trained in interpersonal therapy, so we like to talk at great length about the deep treasure trove of our unconscious and how it's effecting our style of relating, but Nick Vu wants to make Excel spreadsheets of whether we met our goals for the week. He balances us out, and we balance him out, so it’s very good.
You should also know that Nick Vu also raids the public libraries more than anyone I know. He averages about 50 books a year, which he listens to on CDs or his IPod. The man has brilliant ideas churning in his head.
And finally, you should know that Nick Vu comes over to my house every Monday morning for a 2.5-hour study hall and then a lunch break. We set our timers and we work; he works on his top-secret project, and I work on my book. We are very studious and there is very little talking. At 11:45, we break for lunch. He brings random ingredients, we look through my cupboards for more random ingredients, and we create culinary masterpieces. Nick Vu actually enjoys eating as much as I do. One day, I think he and I should write a cookbook together.
(And yes, for some reason it has become fashionable for us to refer always to one other with our surnames included. He calls me KimGeorge, like it's one word.)
Saturday, May 3, 2008
New Article
I have a new article up at theooze.com for those interested. It is on domestic violence, so not exactly happy reading. I think I need my next article to be about the happier sides of life...but for those interested in DV, here it is.
I didn't exactly get rave reviews on the last article I wrote for them (one reader pretty much condemned me to hell), so things can only get better, right? Here goes....
I didn't exactly get rave reviews on the last article I wrote for them (one reader pretty much condemned me to hell), so things can only get better, right? Here goes....
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Holy Matrimony
My sister Shannon’s wedding this weekend was a blast. Highlights included:
1. Riding the famous Spokane carousal right before the wedding. The whole wedding party participated in the frivolity, inspired by Shannon of course, who is always up for having a good time and making a public spectacle.
2. Seeing my sister and her new husband tango dance. They are incredible. My mom and I were doing a pretty good job not crying until we saw them dance together. That’s when the Kleenex was especially needed.
3. Hearing the toasts and giving the toasts. Heather’s was amazing– a good mix of serious and funny from the older sister. I think Marcie (Shanny’s best friend) and I did a good job with ours too; it was pretty much all humor, and we had lots of props. The basic idea was providing Jason with a marriage survival kit (it included items like Chemistry for Dummies so he could communicate with my scientist sister and a few other items…some of them ever so slightly scandalous :).
4. Busting a move with my younger cousins on the dance floor, even if they don’t know who Madonna is! (What!) Also, turns out my long-time neighbor Matt (who I haven’t really hung out with since we played basketball in the driveway when we were 8) is a terrific dancer, because he was happy to be as silly as me. I also made my uncles dance with me. All in all, I got in the necessarily twirling and dipping, even without a proper date.
5. Staying in a fancy hotel. Yep, the night before the wedding I somehow got very lucky and got to stay at a quaint old downtown hotel. “Mom,” I said, “I feel like a princess.” “Kimberly, dear, you always feel that way,” says my mother. Ok, that’s maybe true. But, when I have fluffy down comforters and fancy cucumber shampoo I especially feel like a princess.
6. Being with my family. We had 200 plus people at the wedding. It is so wonderful to be part of a family where people come from all over the country to celebrate. I felt very rich.
7. Having approximately 47 people at the wedding ask me when I was getting married (ok, so my feelings on this last item are entirely sarcastic–such is the plight of being the last unmarried daughter).
All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. Between Michigan and the wedding, I am having trouble transitioning to everyday life. I have one more trip planned home again this weekend for Bloomsday festivities (that’s the race my family runs every year). Then, I will settle back into Seattle.
1. Riding the famous Spokane carousal right before the wedding. The whole wedding party participated in the frivolity, inspired by Shannon of course, who is always up for having a good time and making a public spectacle.
2. Seeing my sister and her new husband tango dance. They are incredible. My mom and I were doing a pretty good job not crying until we saw them dance together. That’s when the Kleenex was especially needed.
3. Hearing the toasts and giving the toasts. Heather’s was amazing– a good mix of serious and funny from the older sister. I think Marcie (Shanny’s best friend) and I did a good job with ours too; it was pretty much all humor, and we had lots of props. The basic idea was providing Jason with a marriage survival kit (it included items like Chemistry for Dummies so he could communicate with my scientist sister and a few other items…some of them ever so slightly scandalous :).
4. Busting a move with my younger cousins on the dance floor, even if they don’t know who Madonna is! (What!) Also, turns out my long-time neighbor Matt (who I haven’t really hung out with since we played basketball in the driveway when we were 8) is a terrific dancer, because he was happy to be as silly as me. I also made my uncles dance with me. All in all, I got in the necessarily twirling and dipping, even without a proper date.
5. Staying in a fancy hotel. Yep, the night before the wedding I somehow got very lucky and got to stay at a quaint old downtown hotel. “Mom,” I said, “I feel like a princess.” “Kimberly, dear, you always feel that way,” says my mother. Ok, that’s maybe true. But, when I have fluffy down comforters and fancy cucumber shampoo I especially feel like a princess.
6. Being with my family. We had 200 plus people at the wedding. It is so wonderful to be part of a family where people come from all over the country to celebrate. I felt very rich.
7. Having approximately 47 people at the wedding ask me when I was getting married (ok, so my feelings on this last item are entirely sarcastic–such is the plight of being the last unmarried daughter).
All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. Between Michigan and the wedding, I am having trouble transitioning to everyday life. I have one more trip planned home again this weekend for Bloomsday festivities (that’s the race my family runs every year). Then, I will settle back into Seattle.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Michigan Joys
Thank you to those of you sending me thoughts and prayers while I was in Michigan! I had a rich time at the writers’ conference this past week. I felt surrounded by brilliance and creativity– the conference organizers had brought in amazing speakers and writers. Here are some highlights:
1. Listening to Yann Martel, author of Life of Pi: He was one of the most eloquent, humble, and imaginative speakers I can remember hearing in a long time. I still get chills! He also has a witty and pointed sense of humor. He has a blog at whatisstephenharperreading.ca, which keeps a record of a series of books that he sends every 2 weeks to his prime minister. The prime minister of Canada, says Martel, has a very low view of the arts, so Martel thought he would help him out by sending him good literature, enclosed with a letter to describe to Stephen Harper the gifts found in that particular book. The most recent April package for the prime minister had a copy of Woolf’s To the Lighthouse. Martel might just be my new famous–and–forty–something author crush. You should read his blog. His mind and imagination are just fabulous.
2. Hearing Katherine Patterson read from her children’s literature: She brought me to tears. She is a regal woman, and hearing her read from the books I read as a child brought me right back to being 11 years old and turning the pages of Bridge to Terabithia. She brings children rich, full, and imaginative stories. When she spoke, she had such a high sense of the nature of play involved in the creative process. Her final words, which were also the ending words of the conference as she was the last speaker, invoked us all as writers to “go play.” It was divine for me. (For those of you know how obsessed I am with working–and how much I need to learn to play again as a writer–you will see the glorious message for me.)
3. Meeting with an editor from HarperCollins: This was truly a little thrill for me along the way in my writing process. I had sent in a book proposal to the conference a few months back, and mine had been seen by an editor at HarperOne, the spiritual division of HarperCollins, and she had contacted me for a meeting to discuss the project.
4. Being on a college campus in the Midwest: I really liked the green, wide–open spaces of Calvin’s campus. I loved just being on a college campus and walking around discovering the paths, bridges, and little ponds. Calvin is so charming and Michigan is beautiful. The sun was out and spring was in full bloom.
5. Listening to Davis Bunn teach writing: I was so inspired by this man as he taught the elements of good storytelling, because I realized I needed to just not work harder but “work smarter.” He has so much to say, and I wanted to run home and start revising my 100 pages of drafts. He lives in England, but I hope to find other conferences he teaches at in the States. Good writing teachers are like gold!
1. Listening to Yann Martel, author of Life of Pi: He was one of the most eloquent, humble, and imaginative speakers I can remember hearing in a long time. I still get chills! He also has a witty and pointed sense of humor. He has a blog at whatisstephenharperreading.ca, which keeps a record of a series of books that he sends every 2 weeks to his prime minister. The prime minister of Canada, says Martel, has a very low view of the arts, so Martel thought he would help him out by sending him good literature, enclosed with a letter to describe to Stephen Harper the gifts found in that particular book. The most recent April package for the prime minister had a copy of Woolf’s To the Lighthouse. Martel might just be my new famous–and–forty–something author crush. You should read his blog. His mind and imagination are just fabulous.
2. Hearing Katherine Patterson read from her children’s literature: She brought me to tears. She is a regal woman, and hearing her read from the books I read as a child brought me right back to being 11 years old and turning the pages of Bridge to Terabithia. She brings children rich, full, and imaginative stories. When she spoke, she had such a high sense of the nature of play involved in the creative process. Her final words, which were also the ending words of the conference as she was the last speaker, invoked us all as writers to “go play.” It was divine for me. (For those of you know how obsessed I am with working–and how much I need to learn to play again as a writer–you will see the glorious message for me.)
3. Meeting with an editor from HarperCollins: This was truly a little thrill for me along the way in my writing process. I had sent in a book proposal to the conference a few months back, and mine had been seen by an editor at HarperOne, the spiritual division of HarperCollins, and she had contacted me for a meeting to discuss the project.
4. Being on a college campus in the Midwest: I really liked the green, wide–open spaces of Calvin’s campus. I loved just being on a college campus and walking around discovering the paths, bridges, and little ponds. Calvin is so charming and Michigan is beautiful. The sun was out and spring was in full bloom.
5. Listening to Davis Bunn teach writing: I was so inspired by this man as he taught the elements of good storytelling, because I realized I needed to just not work harder but “work smarter.” He has so much to say, and I wanted to run home and start revising my 100 pages of drafts. He lives in England, but I hope to find other conferences he teaches at in the States. Good writing teachers are like gold!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
If It Ain't Got That Swing...
I am trying to go to bed, but I just went out swing dancing and my being is too excited to sleep. It has been so long since I have been on the dance floor and I almost forget the thrill of it all. Swing is so playful, creative, mutual, and spontaneous. I spent a whole evening not thinking¬¬– just being in the moment, and it was so good for my heart.
I love how you can never tell by first judgment what kind of dance you will create with a stranger. Sometimes I am so surprised! You can find this connection on the dance floor you would never think if you were off the dance floor. I love the guys who lead with so much openness to responding to the woman; who provide structure, but give up control of the dance and let it be a co–created, organic process. So amazing. My favorite dance partner tonight was probably 50 years old. I had absolutely no anxiety, even though he was an incredible dancer (I usually get nervous with the really good ones). But in these dances, all my creativity came out, and we both just delighted in this graceful and energetic mix of improv and traditional steps. One observer told me she thought the dance looked so intuitive that we must have been dancing together for a long time. Off the dance floor, I would never have supposed connection with this stranger.
I was in heaven all night. I must do this more; but then, not every night on the dance floor is always this magical. I think those dances were sent just for my weary heart.
I love how you can never tell by first judgment what kind of dance you will create with a stranger. Sometimes I am so surprised! You can find this connection on the dance floor you would never think if you were off the dance floor. I love the guys who lead with so much openness to responding to the woman; who provide structure, but give up control of the dance and let it be a co–created, organic process. So amazing. My favorite dance partner tonight was probably 50 years old. I had absolutely no anxiety, even though he was an incredible dancer (I usually get nervous with the really good ones). But in these dances, all my creativity came out, and we both just delighted in this graceful and energetic mix of improv and traditional steps. One observer told me she thought the dance looked so intuitive that we must have been dancing together for a long time. Off the dance floor, I would never have supposed connection with this stranger.
I was in heaven all night. I must do this more; but then, not every night on the dance floor is always this magical. I think those dances were sent just for my weary heart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
