Crazy Peach Cakes

Where is the line between creative enthusiasm and obsession? I found the line this week. It is called peach cakes. I've crossed this line before. The ingredients for turning a great idea into an obsession are the following:
1 great idea
1 plan to make it reality
1-10 problems to overcome
1-10 reasons to continue beyond normal sanity
a pinch of blind pursuit of the creation

First take the great idea and make a plan, stir well. Then encounter several reasons that this plan may be impractical or unwise to pursue, yet press on where normal people would give up and try something saner. The result will either be complete failure where you kick yourself for wasting your time or something wonderful that may still require some post-creation kicking because the end didn't justify the means.

I am working on a new quilt project now that may just turn out to be this project, but it's too early to tell.

But the peach cakes my daughter and I made this week for my husband's work party 100% qualify. I found a recipe on stumbleupon.com that had what seemed to be a perfect summer cake that I foolishly thought would be easy to make.

With steps that included making your own colored sugar and cutting cinnamon sticks into peach stems, it's difficult now to see why I thought this would be a quick dessert. Other obstacles to this project included the need for special baking pans I didn't have, completion in four hours, and making them look good/real. I resorted to using disposable muffin pans and rounded out the bottoms with an alabaster egg which was round and hard enough to do the job, then I had to cut the cakes smaller because they were too tall to make rounds. After coating the kitchen in frosting and colored sugar granules, Mckenna and I did persevere. The project ran overtime thanks to a break in the project to pick up my other daughter and squeeze in a 15 minute practice drive.

When my husband arrived home to a train-wreck of a kitchen and a platter of half and whole peach cakes, his response: "Why did you go to so much trouble?"

I had no answer.

Mckenna had fled the kitchen by that time realizing that making the cakes look like peaches was stressful, and maybe fun the first time, but not by the 10th or 12th time.

The cakes impressed people at the party. They tasted good too, although that's thanks to the box mix and tub frosting, not my cooking expertise. Do I regret the project? Not really. Will I excite my friends with summertime peach cakes again. Probably not.

I know you may be looking at them thinking.....hmmm....I could make those. That's what I did on the night I found them on the internet. Go ahead and try them if you have four hours to kill. Here's the site: http://www.bigredkitchen.com/2009/07/little-peach-cakes.html. I used pineapple box mix not yellow cake and sour cream frosting not buttercream. I thought a fruit-looking cake should have a fruit taste. But be warned this project is not for the faint of heart, when you finish you'll have a mess, but also a pretty, tasty unique-looking cake. Let me know how it turns out. I'd better go obsess over my latest quilt.

Lesson In Day Dreaming

I spent four days in teacher school this week, otherwise known as a "conference". It's still school though. I know this because a) it took place in a school (not mine), b) we sat in uncomfortable desks for seven hours a day after minus-ing breaks and lunch, c) learning took place and there was homework, and d) my mind wandered.

That's what my mind did when I was in grades k-12. On several of my elementary report cards, under comments, my teachers would write: "daydreams too much." This would seem to indicate that there is an appropriate amount of day dreaming, and I too often exceeded it. Exceeding in school is often considered a mark of excellence, but in this case, it was the opposite. Possibly elementary school teachers are provided a range of frequency that dictates what is part of the norm for wandering minds and what is an objectionable or disruptive amount. I teach high school, so I am not privy to the inner workings of K-5 teachers. In high school if you can get the student to focus on learning (not ipods or texting for which teen attention spans are infinite), enough to turn in homework assignments, you feel successful. There is no report card comment code for day dreams too much. There is, however, a disciplinary form you can use for students who fall asleep behind sunglasses which should have been removed upon entering class.

So I learned this week many helpful things from a very smart teacher with great ideas. I also observed that a room full of teachers gathering knowledge has similar dynamics to a room of teens, except for the sleeping behind sunglasses part. Over four days, several cell phones rang during class. Certain individuals don't know when to unwrap food with crinkly paper. The front row participates quite a bit (where I sat). People on the edges can get by with less participation. There is always one know-it-all student who likes to hear the sound of his or her own voice. No matter how engaging the teacher, sometimes you will feel sleepy and be unable to demonstrate your highest quality work. No one, of any age, likes homework even when they fully understand the concept of practice to improve a skill. At first it's scary to give your answer aloud, but it does get easier the more often you do it. Presenting in front of others you perceive to be potentially more clever than you is nerve-wracking. Finally, the age group of the students does not preclude them from rudely talking while others are answering questions OR teaching. This last one is surprising because we English teachers are notorious for getting rankled over inattentiveness in our own classrooms.

I learned many valuable teaching techniques this week. As I reflect, I wonder if the most vital lesson won't come from my experience as a student. This taught me to remember the challenges that learners of all ages face and to leave plenty of time for minds to wander into the occasional day dream.

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.