Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘painting’

Art and Motherhood

Does blending art and motherhood = mission impossible? One recent response to this perennial question comes from Canadian painter Robert Genn, in his twice-weekly newsletter. While Genn writes about painting, his thoughts usually apply to any creative pursuit, including writing — and I have reposted his letters here before. Late this summer, Robert wrote a letter specific to making art as a mother. The letter garnered a TON of comments that are well-worth reading. Much inspiration and practical advice to be found. (Genn’s newsletter is reprinted here by permission. Thanks again, Bob.)

Yesterday, Cedar Lee of Ellicott City, MD, wrote, “I have a 10-month-old son. Before I had this child I never realized the level of freedom and time that I had. The demands are so all-consuming that they leave me with little if anything left to give to my work. I’m depressed about my career–at full speed a year ago, it’s now barely squeaking along. Do you have any advice for how to keep my creative flames burning, how to keep my professional image from slipping, and how to be productive during this time? What are the creative, financial, political, and practical dilemmas facing female artists with young children.”

Thanks, Cedar. Big order. Before I start in with my stuff about being more efficient, making time, getting help, etc., I need to ask you mothers to give me a hand with Cedar’s questions. Your best advice will be included in the next clickback. Live comments are welcome as well. FYI, we’ve put a short video of Cedar’s studio at the top of the current clickback.

Also, I want to mention the extreme expectations that current parents have for their children. Children have taken on a god-like role and have become the focus for everything from prepping for stellar futures to daily parental companionship. Parents sacrifice their own lives for the potential brilliance of kids. For better or for worse, raising kids well is the new religion.

Further, I wanted to say that letters like Cedar’s come in here like leaves from a shaken maple. I’m conscious that many artists, both male and female, use the advent of parenthood as a scapegoat for failing careers. Artists in this predicament need to examine their true motivation for this popular complaint.

It’s been my experience that dedicated artists will always find a way. I’m also happy to report that selfishness need not prevail, nor need the baby lie unchanged in its crib. The creative mind is always working, even during the application of nappies. Household workstations can be set up and work can continue between feedings and other downtimes. The intermittent business may actually benefit the art–for many of us, contemplation is a much needed ingredient to our progress.

Cedar, exhausted though you may be, there is always recourse to the DMWH (Daily Manic Working Hour). This can be programmed any time, perhaps early morning or late at night. When performed as regularly as baby-feeding, you might amaze yourself with how much you can get done when you focus hard for one lovely little hour.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: “You have no obligation other than to discover your real needs, to fulfill them, and to rejoice in doing so.” (Francois Rabelais)

Esoterica: There is an excellent book on the subject. The Divided Heart: Art and Motherhood by Rachel Power [reviewed at Studio Mothers]. It’s well researched with lots of references and historical evidence. An excerpt is here. There’s value in partnership. “To create art once you have children requires the commitment of more than one person,” she writes. “As novelist Eleanor Dark wrote, ‘The balance is elusive; the support crucial.’ “

To read the many responses to Robert’s letter, click here. Any pieces of advice that really stand out for you?

Spotlight on Sarah Madsen

4087_90117mSarah Madsen, Facebook friend of Creative Construction, is a busy mother of four living in Nevada. Sarah is a prolific artist attracted to a range of different media. She finds much satisfaction in drawing from — literally — her vantage point as a mother. From Sarah’s profile on her blog, Arty Moments:

“This [blog] is a insight to a chaotic (ME) artist. I say chaotic because in a sense I seem to go in a million different artistic directions and I’m sure I’m chasing art not as constructively as I should be…However :) This might (I say might because I know deep down, it’s indicative to my nature too!) be my reasons why this occurs… I’m a Mum to 4 busy and happy critters, 4, 6, 8, 10 years old. So with that, comes the balancing act between motherhood and creativity (and of course the odd freelance work). I’ve been drawing painting since I could hold a pencil and I remember drawing, many a night when supposedly asleep in bed. At the blank pages of old books (remember they always had a few blank pages in the beginning?) My get away moments are to draw from life and usually end up in a coffee shop/bars. So one day I would love to be a traveling artist…sketching people in various parts of the world. For now I mix up my love of jewellery and painting. Want to make tiaras, fine precious enamelled pendants, brooches, etc.”

4087_252732mThat chatty blurb gives us the behind-the-scenes look; here’s Sarah’s more formal introduction:

English artist Sarah Elizabeth Madsen attended Central Saint Martins School of Art & Design in London, England. There she gained a BA Hons degree in jewelery design.This interest in 3-D design was quite a different direction from her first love of fine art. The desire to follow figurative art has been constant theme throughout her life as an artist. In 1992 the young artist received a travel bursary from the Royal Society of British Sculptors on a medal design. She has also exhibited at various locations such as the Mall Galleries in London, Silvermine Art Center in Connecticut, and also at Steven Whyte Figurative Sculpture Studio in Carmel, California.

Sarah notes:

4087_121719m“I tend to work quickly with concentration to put the essence onto paper. Portrait drawing from life for me is an absolute challenge. The amount of expressions, gestures, moods, habits, and interaction that people show is incredibly complex. The studies of babies  and children are from constant observation of my own children. This definitely creates its own demands as children rarely remain still. Fortunately this pushes me to just grasp quickly the essentials and not to overdo a drawing. The interest in fine handmade jewelery/medal and enameling stems again from my love of observation (though currently somewhat on hold at present time). So one day hope to produce tiaras, fine gem rings, and necklaces though these would be more towards art/sculpture pieces than mainstream jewelery. The direction I take is organic and figurative in nature. Always to create a ‘living feeling.’ Whether it is a gold-forged wire curling around the nape of the neck, through to a few chosen marks onto canvas or paper.”

Sarah, you’re an inspiration! You can see more of Sarah’s fine art at her art site.

3/25 Weekly creativity contest winner

“Spring equinox” seems like a fitting contest prompt, seeing as we’ll be taking a little hiatus from the weekly contest: change and renewal. Beautiful entries this week — enjoy!

Our winner is Rebecca Coll. Rebecca writes: “As soon as saw what the prompt was for this week, I knew exactly what I was going to do… a dos-à-dos binding. This is a particular bookbinding technique that binds two books together with a shared ‘back’ cover. The two books are therefore both individual and half of a greater whole, much the same as the equinox: equal night. Half night, half day. Following are photos of my equinox-inspired dos-à-dos journal. Two books, each with six signatures (sections) to represent the six months from equinox to equinox, bound together to make one year-long diary. Each signature has 32 pages, which is approximately one page per day (you have to have multiples of 4 when bookbinding, so I couldn’t get the math to work out perfectly). Both ‘books’ are bound in leather with bookcloth onlays and the spines sewn in a button-hole technique using both green and brown cord — for spring and fall. The vernal equinox book is in blue leather with a colorful graphic depicting spring. The autumnal equinox book is bound in black suede (leather glued on backwards with the ‘soft’ side showing). The cover of this book shows a tree having lost it’s leaves. Together with both books one can record a year’s worth of memories: equinox to equinox.” Wow, is all I can say, Rebecca! An absolutely brilliant interpretation of the prompt. Your $10 amazon.com gift certificate has been issued.

dos-a-dos

darkside

blueside

 

From Cathy Coley:

Spring Equinox

The camellias are a winter bloom,
usually December, but this year
they bloomed in March. The ground
didn’t freeze until then,
and one shot of snow
moved the blooms to the Equinox.
The two red bushes dominate
and make the white one blush
as daffodils struggle,
and crocus never awoke.

The season of waking,
My daughter begins to walk
while first blooms of burgeoning
mingle my teen son’s drawing away
and drawing toward
the streets and halls filled
with cucumber perfumed
tresses and new curves
unsweatered,
scent of new skin.
3192009spring-015

 

From Karen Winters: “Malibu Creek Afternoon Hike,” 12 x 16 oil on canvas. Karen writes:

“This new landscape oil painting celebrates the arrival of spring in the Santa Monica Mountains in Malibu Creek State Park, one of my favorite local inspirations. The hills will only stay this beautiful green color for a short while but it’s glorious while it lasts. Soon, the greens will dry to a golden brown, and the desert look will be revealed. I learned something interesting about Southern California’s desert nature while watching a show on geology a little while ago. Before the Sierra Nevada range formed due to compression of the North American and Pacific tectonic plates, California received abundant summer rainfall, just like the rest of what is now the United States. When the mountain range rose, this changed weather patterns and So. Cal became a desert. To get the rain back we’ll have to wait quite some time for the mountains to age. But since the plates continue to compress and mountains continue to rise, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Perhaps one day we’ll have Californian Alps or Himalayan-size peaks. I won’t be around to paint them, but I can imagine that they’ll look wonderful in springtime.”

malibu-creek-painting-b

 

dsc05371From Jen Johnson: “As I was thinking about this week’s prompt, I found myself reflecting on hibernation, awaking to sunshine. This week I’m also in the thick of preparations for my son’s fourth birthday (his party is Saturday and his actual birthday is March 31st). My little boy loves all things serpentine — two of his most significant attachment objects are rubber snakes that he has named ‘Stuxey’ and ‘The Other Stuxey.’ I knew I wanted to make my son something special for his birthday, and so all these things combined to inspire this morning’s project: ‘Spring’ the snake. ‘Spring’ is made from fleece, which is a fairly new material for me; I find it is very forgiving and I’m enjoying working with it! dsc05370She is the second stuffy that I’ve made from my own pattern. The stripes were the most fun! I brought her outside to take advantage of the sunshine for the picture, and happily our overgrown oxalis provided a suitable backdrop. (Wouldn’t be spring out here without the oxalis explosion!) And for a more literary –- and literal — approach to this week’s prompt, you can check out my blog post on the Equinox itself: an old poem that I found in the files. It’s posted here.”

 

This weekly contest has been a real pleasure, everyone. Please keep those creative juices flowing, and don’t feel shy about sending your creative endeavors in for posting. We love random acts of creativity!

In case you missed any of the prompts we’ve had during the past 47 weeks, here’s the list, ordered from most recent to oldest:

1.    Spring equinox
2.    Map
3.    Dance
4.    Light
5.    Eyes
6.    Box
7.    Cookies
8.    Clock
9.    Hope
10.   Wool
11.    Snow
12.    Stars
13.    Noel
14.    Gift
15.    Waiting
16.    Fire
17.    Thanksgiving
18.    Silver
19.    Quilt
20.    Self-portrait
21.    Hands
22.    Dream
23.    Apples
24.    Tears
25.    Autumn
26.    The notebook
27.    Dinnertime
28.    The guitar
29.    My favorite shoes
30.    Sunflowers
31.    The wedding
32.    Chocolate
33.    Circles
34.    Vacation
35.    Beauty
36.    Chinese restaurant
37.    My mother’s house
38.    Independence Day
39.    Wings
40.    At 3:00 am
41.    Margaritas
42.    The crows
43.    The ocean
44.    The last time you kissed me
45.    Little black dress
46.    A cup of coffee
47.    View from the window


Cathy: Art for Life’s Sake

Fisherman watercolor, John Tinari

Fisherman (watercolor), John Tinari

I often feel guilty or self-indulgent knowing that I am not contributing an income to my family. I have never not-contributed an income to my family, in each of its mutable forms throughout the years, for as long a time as now. I have improved my perspective on these feelings in the past six months or so, since I’ve been working on my manuscript. It is slower going than I’d like, but it is going.

I have a constant reminder in my home to tell me how important it is not to forget that creative work is purposeful work, not just an indulgence. My late father-in-law, John Tinari, and mother-in-law, Rose, married very young — I believe while he was in art school. The wedding was in January 1966 and by December, their son, my husband was born. Then within the following year, they had a daughter. Four years after that followed another son. As you have probably guessed by now, John’s dreams of being a painter were quickly put on hold as he worked trade jobs, mostly carpentry or having to do with carpentry, in order to provide for his family.

Trees, John Tinari

Trees, John Tinari

In one of the earliest conversations I had with my husband (we hadn’t even met yet; this was a phone conversation that lasted a few hours), he told me his father was really sick with lung cancer. Within about six months of beginning to know my husband and his family, his father was gone. But what he left behind was beyond legacy.

When my father-in-law realized he was too sick to work, as he underwent chemo and radiation, he put down one set of tools: hammers, saws and levels, and picked up another: watercolors, brushes, palette knives, and paper. Sometimes he worked outside, sometimes from photos while getting his treatments. The results of those two years are hanging within our home: many small to medium sized landscapes full of life and green and light and shadow.

House (unfinished), John Tinari

House (unfinished), John Tinari

The most amazing thing to me about these paintings was finding out after I had been in awe of his execution of the variable greens in the leaves of all these paintings, is that he was colorblind to the green and red spectrum. One of my favorite paintings is of a fisherman deep in a river, red hat standing out amidst all that green. I can’t imagine how he was able to do that without some amount of divine sight. According to Rose, he couldn’t match two brown socks from his drawer.

Outhouse, John Tinari

Outhouse, John Tinari

I bring this up because I don’t want to wait until I am dying to do what I love to do most, even if at times I am working from a bit of a torturously dry well. My creative work is what gives my real sense of purpose beyond parenting or the rest of life’s sundries.

Cows, John Tinari

Cows, John Tinari

I was in my second paragraph when I turned to Andrew to confirm or straighten out a detail, and he said. “Hey, it’s Johnny’s birthday today, right?”

So, I just tilt my head up and say thank you, Johnny. This message is really from him to you. I just happened to be here to catch it.

[Editor's note: Click on any image for a larger view.]

3/04 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

Beautiful submissions for this week’s creativity contest on the prompt “light.” Our winner is Cathy Coley, for a haiku image pairing. I love the simplicity of what Cathy did — just showing up and looking into the every day. Congratulations, Cathy — your $10 amazon.com gift certificate is on its way.

 

in the new morning light
quiet and promise
are all I need to write

 

morning-light-001

 

From Juliet Bell: “This is an oil painting I completed recently. It is painted from a photo I took of a morning glory blossom outside my kitchen door after an August rain. I changed the orientation of the light to appear to be coming from inside the blossom. It is entitled ‘Glory After a Morning Rain.’” [Editor's note: OK, so this BEAUTIFUL painting is actually hanging on the wall in my new library....]

glory-after-the-morning-rain

 

From Amy Grennell, a beautifully textured pair of images — one an altered version of the other? I wasn’t able to ask Amy what media she used — Amy, please tell us!

light-alt

light-alt2

 

From Kelly Warren: “Here are two photos for you….one of one of lights of my life, and one of the light of her life.  I love the way the light plays off both of them in these pictures, highlighting Sarah’s jumble of lovely red curls and Bunny’s pensive thoughts.”

bunny-portrait-for-cc

sarah-and-bunny

 

From me (Miranda), a haiku image pair:

 

Inside the new house
we orient ourselves to
southern exposure

dsc_0104

 

This week’s prompt: “Dance”
Use the prompt however you like — literally, or a tangential theme. All media are welcome. Please e-mail your entries to creativereality@live.com by 10:00 p.m. eastern time (GMT -5) on Tuesday, March 10, 2009. The winning entry receives a $10 gift certificate to amazon.com. Writers should include their submission directly in the body text of their e-mail. Visual artists and photographers should attach an image of their work as a jpeg. Enter as often as you like; multiple submissions for a single prompt are welcome. There is no limit to how many times you can win the weekly contest, either. (You do not have to be a contributor to this blog in order to enter. All are invited to participate.) All submissions are acknowledged when received; if you do not receive e-mail confirmation of receipt within 24 hours, please post a comment here. Remember, the point is to stimulate your output, not to create a masterpiece. Keep the bar low and see what happens. Dusting off work you created previously is OK too. For more info, read the original contest blog post.

2/25 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

Ah, the eyes have it! Lovely submissions for this week’s creativity contest. Our winner is Elizabeth Beck, for this beautiful collage. Elizabeth writes: “i just finished this collage this week …. and intentionally left out the eyes …. to leave it all more ambiguous and mysterious ….. so … for my eyes entry, i give you no eyes!” (I just love your work, Elizabeth, and I’m anxious to try my hand at collage with the SIX BOXES of potential collage materials I gathered up while packing for my move.) Congratulations, Elizabeth — your $10 amazon.com gift certificate has been issued.

100_79311

 

From Karen Winters, a watercolor painting. Karen writes: “I have always admired the way Egyptian women were portrayed in sculpture and painting, so I decided to do a closeup watercolor just featuring the eyes of an exotic beauty. Unlike the ancient paintings that were very stylized and graphic-looking, I chose to represent the eyes in a more realistic manner. The kohl that Egyptian women and men used for distinctive outlining served more than a decorative purpose. Originally made from the soot derived from burning sandalwood paste, kohl served as a medicinal aid and protection against strong sun. Modern preparations may contain lead, so caveat emptor.”

eyes-3x5

 

From Jen Johnson, a poem. Jen writes: “My submission is a quick little poem dashed off during naptime (because that’s all the time I had this week!) based on something I seem to remember reading somewhere a long time ago. Your prompt reminded me of it — not sure if it’s scientific fact or not (and a quick google search with the kids in my lap can’t confirm it) but I like the idea anyway.”

Moongaze

They say that the dark side of the moon,
The side blind to human eyes,
Has a gigantic crater, so big it could be seen
With ease from our own Earth –

If ever we could see what can’t be seen.
It would look like an enormous lunar eye,
Peering down at us each night.
The huge hole a dark iris, pale moondust sclera.

What myths would have been made,
What stories spun, what gods imagined,
If each night we looked up to see
A changeable gaze staring down from the sky?

 

From Rebecca Coll, a painting that she created this week as a gift to her husband on their anniversary. Rebecca writes: “I stretched the theme of ‘eye’ to include how we use it and experimented with the whole optical illusion thing. I figured after 19 years a marriage is about so much more than you can see on the surface. It’s about who we are and the love we have shared. To show this I painted a tree (growth, stability, branches for our independent passions, etc.) using both of our profiles to create the trunk. Then, up in the tree I added 19 hearts for the 19 years… Can you see them all?”

annivtree1

 

From Kelly Warren: “Pure goofiness…the eyes are two of my evil eye pendants.  I’d say this is me after one too many margaritas.” Love it, Kelly!

goofy-eyes

 

From Cathy Coley, a poem:

Eyes

My eldest son’s mossy deep forest green
glow in the sun and mute to wood.
They are the unusual eyes
of my grandfathers,
both of Carolina Cherokee blood.
I wander lost in those eyes
when they look at me.

At a powwow when he was three
a young Mohegan boy of eight
smiled and said,
‘He has the eyes of my tribe,
the eyes of the wolf.’

From boy to boy passed more
than a stick of rock candy.
This is his second early memory
after the red and licorice
ladybug birthday cake.
He has the eyes of a wolf.

My second son’s eyes kaleidoscope
from bright blue to green to slate.
My mostly Irish father’s eyes are aqua green,
Turn to crystal blue, even lavender.
My boys’ father’s Irish eyes switch, too –
Sky eyes clear blue to thunderclouds.
My young son’s eyes are big as the sky.
I can fall into them, and rarely swim back out.

My daughter’s eyes are deep,
clear, warm bullets,
black brown depths of her father and me.
My mother, my grandmother,
his father and generations
back into the hills and across the ocean.
The deep history of continents
collide in our daughter’s eyes –
founders, natives, immigrants,
brown as earth’s rich soil.

Histories upon peoples read
in our children’s eyes.

 

From me (Miranda): A header image that I several months ago — it’s one of my favorites. Naturally, I am enchanted by the eyes of all of my children, but I have to say that Liam (the youngest) has extra depth to his baby blues.

babyeye

 

This week’s prompt: “Light”
Use the prompt however you like — literally, or a tangential theme. All media are welcome. Please e-mail your entries to creativereality@live.com by 10:00 p.m. eastern time (GMT -5) on Tuesday, March 3, 2009. The winning entry receives a $10 gift certificate to amazon.com. Writers should include their submission directly in the body text of their e-mail. Visual artists and photographers should attach an image of their work as a jpeg. Enter as often as you like; multiple submissions for a single prompt are welcome. There is no limit to how many times you can win the weekly contest, either. (You do not have to be a contributor to this blog in order to enter. All are invited to participate.) All submissions are acknowledged when received; if you do not receive e-mail confirmation of receipt within 24 hours, please post a comment here. Remember, the point is to stimulate your output, not to create a masterpiece. Keep the bar low and see what happens. Dusting off work you created previously is OK too. For more info, read the original contest blog post.

Weekly Contest Addendum

Huge apologies to Karen Winters — I filed her contest entry in the wrong folder, and neglected to post it with the rest of this week’s entries. This also means that Karen wasn’t even “in the running” (though I had acknowledged receipt). I’m so sorry, Karen! This is a casualty of the bird-brain induced by my current circumstances — hopefully not to be repeated.

Karen’s submissions (both are oil on canvas): “This painting was created specifically to represent the idea of hope, using a landscape as a metaphor. The title ‘Blue Skies Ahead’ refers to the song of the Depression Era, ‘Blue Skies,’ which helped lift people’s spirits in the midst of a time of financial disaster. I believe that art, like music, can be restorative and healing, and that it can communicate themes that will soothe the soul.”

bishop-california-clouds-b

“‘Blue Skies Ahead’ is a new painting, done just a few months ago after our November trip to the Eastern Sierra Nevada mountains in California, at a time when the financial markets were mid-descent. For me, clearing skies, sunsets and sunrises represent optimism, resilience and a positive approach to life. And now, my hope is that someone will add this to their collection as some did the painting below, named ‘Brighter Tomorrows.’”
brighter-tomorrows-dp

Karen: Intro

Karen Winters headshot

Karen Winters, creative journeyer

I’d like to thank Miranda for welcoming me so warmly to this blog as a co-author.

The topic of fostering creativity is very near and dear to me, and I’ve spent my whole life in some kind of creative profession or pursuit. Art was a first love in my early years, but somehow I got put into the “writer” pigeonhole because I seemed to have an affinity for it. After UCLA grad school in journalism, I went to work for an ad agency as a writer. Somewhere into year six of that career I found I was taking all my vacations to work on documentary projects with my husband, so I made a career change and learned how to produce and write for that medium. Excitement, expeditions and Emmys followed. As time passed and the digital era dawned, I learned how to do computer graphics for our productions, which led to publishing an aftermarket book on Photoshop. By this time the circle had started to close and art was once more a major and beloved part of my life. More time passed and with our children launched into college and careers, I revived my passion in art and I am now a mostly full time fine artist. I’ve taught and managed creative people, mentored others and love to demonstrate and teach whenever I get the opportunity. These days I can most often be found doing plein air painting, being a part of the daily painter movement, studying art or getting ready for shows and competitions. My daily art blog is called A Creative Journey because for me that’s what it’s always been about. It’s not a goal but a never ending journey that brings constant challenge and satisfaction. I love to meet fellow travelers and to learn from and share with others. Thanks for letting me hang my creative hat here.

Miranda: What to paint (or write or make) next

paintbrushesI subscribe to the weekly newsletter of Canadian painter Robert Genn. While Genn writes about painting, I often find that his thoughts apply to any creative pursuit, including writing. This week’s newsletter spoke to the dilemma of deciding which project to work on next–something that Christa recently experienced.

Genn’s newsletter is reprinted here in full, by permission.

Yesterday’s inbox included the short and sweet: ‘I’ve been painting seriously for the last fifteen years, and I now have trouble deciding what to paint. How do I decide?’ The email was signed ‘Diane W. Reitz, BFA.’

Thanks, Diane. Maybe the BFA after your name gives us a clue. Maybe you know too much. But don’t worry, it’s a common problem, BFA or not.

The creative life requires a steady progression of experimentation and discovery. While acquired wisdom is useful, your knowledge must work in tandem with the daily exercise of your curiosity. A life in art is more a working event than the application of prior knowledge. Further, as you paint, you are able to decide what to paint. Paintings come out of themselves.

Prime your pump–your work goes viral.

There’s a pile of tricks you can pull to prime the pump. Go to your earlier inspiration–drawings, reference photos, field notes. Recall the direction this material took you in the past, and then go looking for a new angle. Don’t waste time. Commit yourself to the most humble application of paint. Get it through your system and out onto your reviewing easel. Perhaps reward it with a quick framing. Consider again the possibilities and commit once more, perhaps to a larger size.

Don’t be precious. Try to think like Edison when he was trying different stuff that might do for filaments in light bulbs.

First thing you know you’ll feel refreshed and renewed rather than burdened with making a decision. Further, you will see a need for further refinement. Personal refinement of vision makes creativity worthwhile. What you do may not be unique in the greater world of art, but it’s the sweet ignorance of outcome that drives you on.

When artists see themselves inching forward with minor improvements, they begin a natural flow that becomes unstoppable. I formerly told artists who were unable to decide what to paint that they might not be cut out for the game. Then I realized that our very existence is based on ignorance of where we’re going. What’s important is having the fortitude and patience to dig around and try to find out. Actually, ‘having trouble deciding’ is a good part of the fun. Accept the fun.

Best regards,

Robert

Miranda: Show and tell

Light Through the LeavesSome weeks ago, when I mentioned that I dabble in painting as a foil to writing, Bethany (too kind) asked to see some of my work. I’ve posted a few pieces at my Flickr site, just for fun.

It’s easy for me to share my painting, because I am a total amateur and have very little invested in the outcome. It’s much harder for me to share my writing, although over the years I have come to understand that feedback is an essential part of bringing a peice of writing to its fullest potential–at least for me. Sometimes the picture in my head hasn’t made it onto the written page, and it takes a fresh pair of eyes and a new perspective to show me where those rough spots are, and/or if the whole thing just falls flat. (And while exposing the creative self feels horribly vulnerable, it gets easier the more that I do it.)

All this makes me wonder: what processes do you all have for soliciting feedback on your work? Do you have a trusted group that you like to share with? Share things only with your spouse? Do you like to send things out for review in the early stages, or wait until a piece is fully polished? Would it ever be of value to have a way to post content for responses on this blog, specifying the type of feedback you’re looking for?

I hope everyone has a good week, though the politicos among us may well be distracted by watching/reading/listening to the primary news!

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,666 other followers