More Than A Spark

That first spark of creativity for a new project burns hot like love. First there is the realization of how intensely you want to pursue it, and once in pursuit, if the chemistry is right, every moment is pure joy. Unfortunately that burning passion to create something from nothing can be so hot that it scorches everything quickly before it reaches a finished piece.

Then it is up to creative endurance to see it to the end. The process weighs on your emotions. Often that devil of an editing brain keeps shouting loudly that I am wasting my time, and the end product will not be good, can not be good. As I work through the quilt top, story or essay, I become so close to it that I can't really see it. Particularly with a colorful, complicated piece, it may take me several weeks to really see it objectively without my editor holding it's nose making a stink face.

I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not an artistic super-hero. I often don't stare down that nasty editor and get to the end. The basket of unfinished blocks and quilt tops on my table AND the bags under it are a visual testament to that. Unseen are the many partial documents on my computer where the spark fizzled or my faith in them did. My sister got ALL the organizational and production genes. I have to fake mine.

I love that buzz I get when I have a great design or story idea and run with it and can't wait to get back to working on it, but it takes perseverance to keep it going. Real-world chores and interruptions also halt the flow, sometimes killing the enthusiasm for the art.

Today, I deftly maneuvered around the many things that forced my attention away from the fun of making things. They threatened to rain on my spark, but I kept going. I worked in some writing time, and even sewed one more row on my Asian fan quilt. The pieces are far from done, but I kept the fire burning.

Technology Meltdown

Today promised to be full of opportunity to write or quilt which are two of my favorite ways to be creative. I don't mean that there weren't many other obligations, but still time seemed to be on my side. My sister would laugh at my ability to be so hopeful or rather naive about how the days tend to unfold, but I really did believe there would be some quality me time.

And of course there wasn't, except for right now. I am claiming these precious few moments. See me standing here on top of the mountain of other things that ended up needing to be done, and right beneath my feet you will see my half-dead Dell computer and my Hp printer's ornery print drivers. I am the one with my feet balancing upon the peak holding my flag planted at the top. It is not a white flag. I am stubborn beyond normal amounts of reason, and I won't give up. On that flag are a quilt block and words, lots of them.

Aside from the regular dishes and driving and other fun stuff, our primary household computer turned itself off while my daughter was on it yesterday. A less stubborn person would have called the computer guy/place and washed their hands of it, but I am sort of savvy and seriously motivated to do-it-myself, so I tried a few things I know. Then I took out the manual and read the section called, "Advanced Troubleshooting." My computer had not, apparently read that section, because the diagnosis and resolution did not enlighten my dark computer. I even got out my work computer and researched online, but those symptoms did not have anything to do with the reality of my computer's illness. Finally late last night, I emailed the tech guy, and early this morning, he emailed to bring it to his office. After picking up my daughter from Driver's Ed and enjoying a delicious lunch at Avenue Bread with her. I drove it to his office half-way across town.

Since I have a workshop next week for four days, I need a computer which I am on right now. It is my daughter's computer which we actually bought to bring her grandmother into the computer-age, but my mother-in-law liked the previous age just fine and finally gave up and sent it back. It is not connected to a printer though, and I need to print. This evening, I got to use my creative juice to fight the printer driver. It did not want to install. The computer also doesn't like to "see" the cd drive. It prefers from some unknown reason to be friendly with the antiquated floppy drive. Even downloading drivers didn't seem to work. Eventually though I did resolve the situation and could successfully print. I took on the challenge at 5pm and finished at 8pm, although I did take 30 minutes off to drive my oldest daughter to her boyfriend's house before my head exploded.

So I win the printer fight, the computer fight victor is yet undetermined, and the creative time fight is sort of a draw. I am writing, and if you are reading this and like it, then maybe it isn't a draw, that would definitely be a win. As with the prognosis for the computer, this battle is too soon to call.

1 Part Inspiration, 3 Parts Perspiration

Some days, like today, I have to be satisfied filling up my creative tank with experiences, observations and person to person encounters.

Any day that begins at the Department of Motor Vehicles probably should be flagged with a sign that says, "No Line For Creativity Here." If I had been alone, I could have written some. I came prepared for that, but I was with my teenage daughter who's now 18 months overdue for getting her permit. We came 30 minutes early which put us 16th in line.

We sat down holding #455 for the line that began the day at 450 which initially seemed promising. Elysse and I chatted and giggled, yes giggled, over this and that whispered under our breath. After 55 minutes we handed over identification to the woman at the counter, and then she sent us to get a photo. Excitedly we hurried over to the chairs near the camera, but we waited there 20 minutes for a picture which, at least in black and white, did not please Elysse.

If I knew how to read signs from the universe, there probably was an important message at the DMV. I teach at a small high school about 20 miles away from this location, but during my time waiting I encountered 1 teacher from my school, 2 former students, 1 student new to me this September, and 7 students from this past school year. I am not typically this well-known in public places.

Upon leaving the DMV with the paper-version of my daughter's new permit in hand, there still seemed to be plenty of time for creating something like quilts or stories or articles or even dinner, but there wasn't. From there it was on to Driver's Ed class and then home to even out the four hours of sleep from the night before (aka nap), a movie with the family, "Year One" (not one of Jack Black's finest), 79 pages of reading on Learning Communities for a class next week, a yoga class, and then another movie at home (due back tomorrow) with the family, "Outsourced" which was really quite good.

Maybe the universe was trying to tell me this: fill up your writer's tank with daily adventures, and you can knead and pull them into shape to write them out. Look Mom, I did make something today....I made this blog. I can now go to sleep content. Tomorrow adventures on the city bus. Good night!

Day Dreaming

It's technically summer vacation.

I say technically because as a mother-teacher-writer-quilter vacation time is often slim. My daughters think summer vacation is for me to drive them places, much like a chauffeur without the pay. I spent two hours on the phone this morning trying to sort out the various requirements for getting seen my a medical specialist. This does not include the two hour drive time to reach the specialist. I have written two weeks of morning pages as instructed by Julia Cameron's The Artists Way, but have only written stories in my head while I hike with my dog, Juno. Juno doesn't care if I write, teach, quilt or drive teens; she only cares to have a walk, run or hike. The latter is her first choice because it can be done off-leash, so she can sniff, climb, roll or wallow to her heart's content...hosing off is sure to follow.

I celebrated a birthday, #44, last week, and my family gave me Saturday to myself. More than half of that time was spent stewing over what to create. The day lay before me luxurious, like the stretch of a long-sleeping cat. Then evil monkey mind took over. My daughter was crabby, and I stewed. I'd finished one quilt and couldn't decide which undone project to pursue. I checked my email. I played a game on the computer. I took a nap.

The pressure to use the creative time wisely is the real spoiler of creativity. The reality of time available weighs heavy, sometimes like a boulder, sometimes like a building. I came out from under it like I always do by getting into motion. I just began. I took out Asian fan quilt blocks that I loved (and completed several years ago) and set them out and worked through the design and sewed. Those blocks now lay 2/3 assembled, and I am satisfied.

How do you get past creative blocks? I'd say with whatever time you have, DO something. Thinking about it is never enough.