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Alana: Leaving the slippers at home

“I did it!”… to quote my nearly-three-year-old (a phrase only surpassed by her favourite indignant statement “I do it!”)

I’m into my third week of writing (OK, I was being very optimistic with those ten hours a week — typically, just as I get an inch, Daisy takes away a mile and dropped her lunchtime sleep the EXACT week I get childcare for Poppy!). Anyway, I’m not going to moan — Daisy is settled in playschool, Poppy is adapting to the indignation of my minor abandonment, and I’ve had two weeks of writing three mornings a week.

What have I done? I’ve set up a website (all constructive criticism welcome!), written a submission for an anthology, sent three article pitches, made contact with a new magazine, and contributed to Starbucks’ world domination (I have to leave the house when Poppy’s childminder arrives and that great American institution taking over this small Emerald Isle does the best green tea…).

I have written. I have thought. I have pondered. I feel ten feet tall. Not only am I using my brain, I’m shaking the dust off those old workclothes. Yes, I know, I’m only going to sit in Starbucks with my notebook and pen, but it’s all part of the empowerment. I dress up as if going to work…because I am. This is real. This is job. I even wear lipstick.

There is something about leaving the house having washed first and wearing clothes without an elasticised waistline that makes it feel more real. I made a decision never to write in my slippers. No slipper scrolling for me. Slippers are for slouching. So proper shoes and proper clothes it must be. And a large mug of green tea. Life is almost perfect….

Cathy: Moving along

I have committed significant time each day to work on my young reader novel. Thank you for many of your posts and conversations to motivate me to do such a thing for myself and my book. A very real sacrifice is involved for our family, the fact that I have no steady income. So, I’m dropping a big networking hint: any of you with connections to a youth-focused publisher or agent, please float hints of my progress their way, or their info my way! When the manuscript is nearly complete, I will need to shop it, fairly desperately. I am lousy at marketing. Let me sit in a corner and write all day long, but show it to someone who might put it in production? Yikes! I’m a little over a third into what I hope to accomplish in page count. It is a fun (I hope) nerd overcoming bully story with a science twist a la astronomy with some sub-focus on family and friendships. How’s that for a synopsis without giving anything away?

Last week, I got through some dialogue. Dialogue is easier for me to imagine than to actually write. I hear it well in my head, but how do the characters sound on the page? All like me or the narrator? I hope not. So, it’s slow going, besides all the interruptions. But the good news for this week is, knock on wood, neither of the boys are sick — each stayed home from school a day last week, two different ones, of course. I have no appointments for any of us. The cat and dog have both been deflea-ed, finally, at the vet. Bad news is I planned a picnic at my house on Saturday for my Asperger’s group that I don’t foresee doing much prep for as it is a potluck, but I do need to move a dirt pile, reorganize the desk again, hopefully get through some of my albatross box of papers to be filed, and flea bomb the backyard. That’s right, nature girl is going to intentionally poison the planet. Good news is I am going to write THE SCENE this week. If I’m lucky, THE OTHER SCENE, too. These two scenes are at the heart of the book, upon what everything after depends. They should also advance me to the halfway point. Woo-hoo!

I just finished re-reading an old favorite book that didn’t help my frame of mind for writing a youth novel, but I enjoyed it anyway — Alice Walker’s In the Temple of My Familiar. My next step to move my writing along in the vein of a youth novel is to re-read some Jerry Spinelli, Sharon Creech, and other authors for the age group, whose work I love and whose style is very conversational and very much from the point of view of an eleven- or twelve-year-old. I think that will help my dialogue problem a lot. I should grab some Carl Hiaasen and Gary Paulson, too. A dog figures prominently in the story, and Paulson writes Dog really well. I mention these authors because I believe a lot of the best writing out there now by contemporaries is for the youth market. Go check out the Newbery Medal winners. They are a great lot.

Enjoy! I didn’t know what I was missing until a few years ago, so I really do recommend a trip to your local library youth room. The reads are so quick, too! If you want a really good cry, you must check out Sharon Creech’s The Wanderer or Love That Dog. I’m no crier and I absolutely blubbered my way through those, out loud, in front of a class of fifth graders. If you like disturbing (Lisa D and Christa), check out Spinelli’s The Wringer. I read that four years ago and it still haunts me.

Happy writing, painting, puzzling, knitting, etc this week!

9/17 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

Ah, the sweet sound of creative women at work! Terrific entries for this week’s creativity contest prompt: “the guitar.” We’ve branched into new media here — audio and video! Wow. Hard to select a winner, but we had to go with Carrie Lowery, because her video is extremely creative — and made me laugh my head off. (Oh yeah, and I have a Napoleon Dynamite fetish — what can I say.) Carrie writes: “It is a strange coincidence that I ran across your contest post today, having just finished this short and silly movie after a request from my son, niece and nephews to make a movie starring ‘Guitar Hero’ (as well as a princess, a jester and Napoleon Dynamite). If you’d asked me a few weeks ago whether I’d be a movie director, making G rated movies that only star people under 14, I would have laughed. Now I’m having a great time. Creativity rules!” Carrie, your $10 amazon.com gift certificate has been sent! Welcome to Creative Construction.

 
 

From Cathy Jennings: “After a long hiatus getting my son ready for Kindergarten, I finally found the time to be organized enough to do something creative. I enjoyed this prompt a lot.” Cathy’s medium is Dr. Martins watercolors on real paper.

 

 

From Cathy Coley, a haiku and photo pairing. Cathy writes: “Honey rarely picks his guitar up these days. I think he appreciated my sticking it in his hands for his creative outlet and mine!”

 

Lifetime working with
rock stars, my husband, forty,
late to his guitar.

 

From Kelly Warren:

Lessons from a 50-Year-Old Hippie
I had an interesting conversation with my guitar teacher recently. I take guitar once a week, and because I typically can’t find any other time during the week, Gary and I call my weekly lesson my “once a week supervised practice.” What the hey, at least I’m picking up my guitar once a week. I really enjoy my lessons, as much for hanging out with Gary as for the musical development. He swears we were separated a birth, we think so much alike. I always joke with him that I’m his favorite student, and he’s admitted I am, though I realize he may say that to all the girls, um, I mean students. 🙂 We were working on a new song, Sugarland’s “Stay,” and I was picking it up pretty easily. He felt this was a great song for me; it’s in my vocal range and it has minimal accompaniment. Most of the song just has a simple guitar strum background, so it would be truly easy for me to perform in a solo acoustic setting. So here’s the thing. I have no trouble sharing my jewelry, my art or my writing with people, all creative pursuits. I think I’ve developed a good eye for jewelry design and color blending, I’ve been having fun playing around with mixed media, and I know I’ve always been a very strong writer. Yet, I have terrible stage fright when it comes to sharing my music, another creative pursuit.

Before taking up guitar, I had years and years of piano training, classical mainly, but I loved to branch off into blues and Broadway. When I can warm up my dusty fingers and play at the top of my game, I know that I’m still pretty good. Yet I really don’t like to play for people, not even my family, but my cats and dogs have enjoyed numerous concerts! I think I actually have a much easier time playing for strangers than I do for my friends and family. I’m the same way singing and with the guitar. I’ve sang in public a few times for very special occasions, three or four times on campus for special events and several times for my statewide student government buddies, accompanied on guitar by my good friend Jim Phillips. I’ve also sat in on a couple gigs with friends who are professional singer/songwriters. And every time, I’ve had numerous people come up to me afterward surprised that I can sing. Yet, other than my DH and the girls, who I truly haven’t played much for, the only person who has really heard me play guitar and sing is Gary, yet even he hasn’t heard me truly belt it out vocally. And I’ve been taking lessons from him for at least six or seven years now.

So back to that conversation we had. I was talking to Gary about my stage fright, and he told me a story about when he was asked to play drums to accompany a woman who was recording some new songs. The person making the connection asked him what he charged, and he gave her a ridiculously low fee for both rehearsal and studio time. She told him, “Oh no, I can’t tell her that. We’ll tell her $50/hour for rehearsal time and $100/hour for studio time.” She told him that he was very talented with years of training and experience and should not be afraid to charge a much higher rate for his talent. He used this as an example to get me to see that I have a gift, a talent that I should not be afraid of sharing, just like I have no fear of sharing my jewelry, my art, and my writing. In his opinion, I am musically gifted both vocally and instrumentally, gifts many people don’t have.

So that said, to try to break out of that stage fright a little bit, I have decided to start small by sharing some of my music with you here. If you’ve read some of my previous creativity prompt entries, you know I lost my mother to suicide in December of 1999. It’s hard to explain what that does to you, other than the huge sense of abandonment and loss of self-worth you feel when someone that close to you chooses to end her own life. It’s very different from losing a parent by natural causes like cancer or a heart attack. At only 54 and going through a nasty divorce from my step-father, my mom thought she had nothing to live for, yet she had me and my sister, and in my case, grandchildren on the way. So, of course, DH decided I really needed to go to therapy. I really didn’t want to go to therapy, just didn’t think that was for me, but I went just once to appease him. I was right; it wasn’t for me. I deal with things better working them out creatively, whether it be by writing, creating something physical like art, or as in this case, creating music. So as my therapy, I recorded a CD and dedicated it to my mom. I gave a copy of it to my closest friends when I finished it, but other than that, not very many people have heard it. So, you want to hear some of it? I’ve uploaded a few of the songs off the CD. Be gentle; I can carry a tune but I’m no Faith Hill. 🙂 They’re a mix of country and blues. I’ll hold my breath now…

Kelly’s recordings

 

From Brittany Vandeputte, a prose poem:

GUITAR

When I was eleven, I discovered the tennis racket in our storage shed. I don’t know why it was there, no one I know plays tennis. To my eleven-year-old eyes, it was not a mere tennis racket, but the most glorious faux Fender I had ever seen.

At about this time, I discovered Madonna and spent many an afternoon rocking out in front of my mirror, tennis racket in hand. There would be no air guitar for this wanna-be rocker chick. Only the finest one string would do.

And then my next door neighbor and I decided to create a garage band. His drum set? A metal trash can.

And to think we didn’t make it big…

 

From me (Miranda), a haiku and photo pairing. You’ll notice some echoes with Cathy Coley’s entry above! I took this photo of my son last year. The poem is new:

 

My Son
Strange realization:
He knows a world apart from
the one I gave him

 

This week’s prompt: “Dinnertime”

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 8:00 p.m. eastern time (GMT -5) on Tuesday, September 23. 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.) Remember, the point here 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.

Bethany: I’ve been around

Really. I’m not dead. I’ve spent a night out drinking more glasses of wine than I have consumed in one year and I’m still paying for it. I’ve spent more hours in a car than one should in a given week. I’ve gained more responsibility at work that I care to even think about. And I’m considering weaning the Peanut sooner rather than later. I haven’t lost a single pound (maybe gained a few). And I bought a new shirt at Old Navy because I just wanted a new one.

Now that I got all that out of the way, I can give you the real scoop. The crap that I’ve been avoiding. I’m tired and still overwhelmed. That revelation no surprise to you? Me either. But I do know that the fact that I am not writing (and apparently drinking) is in direct correlation to the amount of tired and overwhelmed I am feeling. And it is a vicious cycle. For anyone that has tried to do something outside your comfort zone and takes a TON OF TIME… well you know you have to be dedicated. You have to love it. And, by God, you have to make room for it in your life. And as of tonight, I haven’t written a word in my novel in over 2 months. Maybe 3 if I am truthful about it. And it is killing me. Slowly. Softly. And hell, I cried a few tears over it last night at the bar (damn it! A crying drunk!).

But that embarrassment proves one thing. It really is bothering me that I am not writing. And I need to do something about it. Anything. So that I am not a blubbering idiot next time the Hubby and I decide to pay a sitter and go out (and have the Wine Flights at the local pub). Seriously people. By how much more did my geek factor climb because I was weeping over not writing at a bar? A BAR! [shaking my head] No need to tell me, I know how it sounds. And, regretfully, I know how it looks. Thank God my husband is also one who believes in dreams. And gets me. So, he just bought me a shot, gave me a hug, and told me he loved me. Then, as quick as I took that shot, I told him we needed to go home before I got sick.

So, today, after a bottle of ibuprofen and a long afternoon nap with the baby to rid myself of a hangover, I’m writing. Not the book (hell, that’s too much effort. I’m still recovering!). But at least a blog post. And a book review. I’m dusting off the virtual files for the book. So tomorrow, I can make grand plans. And write. I hope. But, let’s not let the doubt creep in. That just makes for more pressure. And right now, my head has all the pressure it can take (hangovers are a bitch).

[Cross-posted from Mommy Writer Blog. Thanks, Bethany!]

Strumming something up? Contest deadline tonight!

Can you find a few moments to create something for this week’s creativity contest? The prompt is “the guitar.” You know you can find 10 minutes between now and 8:00 p.m. eastern time! Don’t think about it too much. Just do it.

Please note that we seem to be having some issues with the live.com e-mail address. Thus far entries have been received from Cathy C., Kelly, and Cathy J. If you sent in a submission and you aren’t one of those three people, please post a comment here to let me know. Thanks!

Christa: Chances are

Freelancing over the last seven years has taught me foremost that you just never know. The most innocuous, even boring, opportunities might lead to the best ones…or they might not. The point is never to pass something up just because you don’t expect it to go anywhere. It might surprise you.

Five years ago I was assigned to write an article about cell phone forensics. At that time, no one knew much about it; I remember panicking because I had found exactly one source for the article, and he wanted to remain anonymous. Then one of my editors recommended the International High Tech Crime Investigators Association. I just needed one more source.

I can’t remember if my HTCIA source recommended the Sacramento Valley Hi-Tech Crimes Task Force by name, or if I Googled “cell phone forensics” (or something similar) and arrived at the site that way. I believe what happened next was that I emailed their generic address and hoped like heck they would get back to me (cops not being the most trusting of media). One investigator did, and ended up being tremendously helpful, someone I got along with better than I’d expected.

I didn’t expect him to keep in touch; only one other source has, and only because we reconnected on a site for crime fiction authors. (Ironically, I also interviewed her in 2003, for an article in the same issue. Her name’s Felicia Donovan; go check out her website.) But he did email me again, several times in fact, soliciting article ideas. Over time our professional relationship developed, and from there became more of a professional friendship. And that’s when we decided to collaborate.*

I don’t know what the chances were that he versus another investigator would have answered my email. Maybe he was on “media duty” that week, or maybe he was considered the “go-to” guy for media in general. The point is, if you get along well enough with a source or another creative person, don’t be afraid to follow up. Don’t think there are “boundaries” you need to respect; if you think they’re open to working more with you, ask. That’s what I did this past week, when another source dropped a few hints about writing such that I asked if he wanted to collaborate. He does, and we’re negotiating.

What’s my point? I have “chance” on the brain because I’m about to take a big one-not just the collaboration, but kicking off my freelance career as a whole once more. I’ve always been a “go with the gut” person, and my business has for the most part been successful for it. Still, I keep wondering what on earth I’m doing. I still have one (rather needy) child at home, and even though most of the sources I plan to work with have no problem hearing his little voice in the background, it’s a chance I’ve never taken before. But it, like the collaboration, feels like the right chance to take. And in my mind, that makes it worth the risk.

* I don’t mind dropping Felicia’s name, because she’s trying to sell books. However, my collaborator is still active in law enforcement and not trying to draw attention to himself. You can probably figure it out if you read enough of my articles, especially in upcoming months, but really high-tech crime — at least the way I write it — isn’t that terribly interesting!

Brittany: The Artiste at Work

I am finished with my novel.

I wrote down the words, but it hardly seems real. Probably because my critique group hasn’t had the chance to sink its teeth into my novel yet. Some revisions will still need to be made. But beyond that, I also feel a deep sense of melancholy about its completion. It, and Sam, were both conceived in November 2005. I have centered my life around them. They were my soul reason for being these last two, now almost three, years.

But now Sam is two, and going to preschool. The book is finished. John is here. Could I have a better reminder that time marches on?

I feel like, as a writer, I have been a neglectful mother. While I am holed away with my laptop searching for comma splices, my boys are growing bigger every day. I really should go live in the world I’m writing about, and bring them with me. Sometimes I feel such enormous guilt. Have I done what I set out to do? Do my boys love language, and reading, and art? Are they creative and open to possibilities? Do they see the world as magical and everyday objects as things to explore? I often wonder…

Yesterday, I got a yes.

I was nursing John. Just one side. Just for a minute. I knew I shouldn’t leave Sam to play unattended, but the baby did need to eat. I figured, what can he get into in just a couple of minutes?

Bubbles.

I hear the word coming from the bathroom. I go to investigate. And this is what I found:

Sam had channeled Jackson Pollock and taken a half-full bottle of liquid soap and created a fabulous art display all over the bathroom vinyl. Then, he brought out his cars and furthered his artistic endeavors all over himself, the bathtub, and the bath mat. It was marvelous. It was horrifying. Like there are really enough hours in the day to clean up a mess of that magnitude?

I had to step back and look at it through his two-year-old eyes. What a thing of beauty is a bottle of soap? How easily it moves. How pretty it shines. You’ve got to hand it to the kid. He doesn’t lack for creativity.

And then I had an ephiphany. Maybe all that time I was fretting about being neglectful, it wasn’t really neglect at all. I was giving him space, and room to just be. What if I was actually a good role model, plugging away on my computer, creating my world of words, and leaving him to his exploration? Would Jackson Pollock have gotten anywhere if he wasn’t given time to experiment? Would I? Would anyone? Who knows, Sam may become an artist one day too, and for that I would gladly sacrifice a bath mat.

Breakfast with Emma-Jane

Another tasty, international Breakfast coming your way this morning. We travel to the UK to meet prolific artist and blogger Emma-Jane Rosenberg. Prepare for inspiration.

CC: Please give us an intro to who you are, what you do, and your family headcount.
E-JR:
I’m 38 and live in East Anglia, UK, with my husband and our daughter, who’s just turned 2. I work from home as a freelance editor two days a week.

CC: What prompted you to start blogging? What keeps you going?
E-JR:
I started my blog when my little girl was 5 months old, and I was keen to get back into the habit of sketching and painting. I joined the Everyday Matters group, and since many other members there kept art blogs, this seemed the obvious way to record and share my own progress. Apart from the interaction that my blog has afforded me with other artists and crafters, what appeals to me about it is that, like sketchbook journaling, it’s an ongoing record of my life that’s mostly pictorial, and with only as much of a written element as I feel comfortable including. I have always enjoyed the idea of keeping a diary, if not the act itself: not one word remains of the many thousands I’ve scribbled in paper diaries since my early teens. Although I very much enjoy words (my background is in languages), I’m far less self-conscious when it comes to making images.

The communal show-and-tell aspect of blogging is also a great spur to keep creating. I find a certain amount of guilt creeps in if I’m away from the blog for very long! Recently I merged my art blog with the erratic knitting/crochet blog I’d been keeping in tandem, and though this means that “Omphaloskepsis” is now going through something of an identity crisis, it at least reflects the fragmented nature of my creativity these days.

CC: Tell us about your art and any other creative pursuits. What does “creativity” mean to you?
E-JR:
For me, it can mean knitting and crochet one week, then a couple of weeks of sketchbook stuff, then an urge to dig out my oil pastels the week after that. I recently realised that I don’t need to compartmentalize these aspects of my creative life anymore: it’s all good. I can do something creative—enjoy colour and texture and the excitement of making something—every day, whether it’s painting a still life, knitting a sock, making thumbprint butterflies or plasticine animals, or even drawing all the items on the shopping list so that my daughter can help me find what we need at the supermarket. Much of what fills my day isn’t high art, but it’s definitely creativity, and though that might sound obvious, I’m amazed how long it has taken me to get to grips with this truth and to stop expecting that I should be doing things a certain way, achieving certain things, making x amount of “worthwhile art” while M is only little.

CC: You’re prolific. How do you make time for your art; managing creativity and motherhood?
E-JR: Even before I had my daughter, as soon as the decision had been made to have a family, I could feel my relationship to my art changing. When I was expecting her, after turning in a couple of soft pastel commissions I then did very little sketching or painting for a year. Learning to knit and crochet became my substitute creative outlet, since they allowed me to indulge my love of colour and learn new skills from the comfort of my sofa, with minimal mess and with the exciting prospect of being able to make things for the baby. When I became a mum, it wasn’t practical to be working with pastels anyway because of the dust, and I no longer had a dedicated art space in which to leave still life setups or art materials lying around, but in the early weeks and months I barely had the time or energy to open my pastel box anyway! I’m certain I will pick up my soft pastels again someday, but for now I’m exploring other media. It takes me longer to build up an image with oil pastels than it used to with my softies, for example, but they are cleaner and easier to stash away between sessions. If I have an extended period of free time for art, say a few hours, I’ll work on an oil pastel painting. An hour or so, while my daughter is napping? The oil pastels again, but just a sketch. If I have less than an hour, maybe a sketchbook page, or part of one, in pen and watercolour. And if there are only minutes to spare (such as when my husband is putting little one to bed), it’ll be a line drawing only.

I’ve definitely felt these past few weeks that I’m losing the struggle for creative time, yet when I recently spent a couple of evenings uploading all my stuff to Flickr, organizing my sketches, paintings and photos of my knit and crochet projects, the sight of all those little thumbnail images packed together, representing everything I’d created at times when I thought I was failing to make art, I was astounded.

CC: Where do you do your creative work and blogging?
E-JR: My art space is a large desk in the bedroom that stores all my materials, sketches, and books I’m feeling inspired by—as well as a newly-acquired vintage Singer sewing machine. Because the desk tends to be covered in my clutter, I rarely use the space for actually making art. It’s easier for me to work on the living room floor or on the bed—or out and about with my sketchbook. In the evening, when the light’s poor and I’m weary or have been working, I knit or crochet on the sofa and catch up with blogs and podcasts. I mostly do my blogging from the sofa too. The sofa’s a great friend!

CC: What do you struggle with most?
E-JR: The piecemeal nature of free time as a parent. I would love the luxury of being able to develop ideas more fully over time, to play around with different approaches and techniques and do loads of preparatory sketches for a piece, then spend as many long sessions at the easel as I needed to make the imagined painting a reality. But as the parent of a small child, snatches of time are often all you have. You can build up a project slowly, but it’s that much harder when you’re sleep deprived or your thoughts are constantly being interrupted, and using your limited time to play around with different media can be more rewarding. I do find I need to jot down anything and everything that inspires me, any ideas I have for future subjects, or they’re soon lost in the brain fog.

CC: Where do you find inspiration?
E-JR:
Colour, colour, colour. More often than not, the prompt to create will be an impression left on me by a particularly colourful painting, by flowers I’ve seen on my daily walks with M, or from art and craft magazines. Lately I’ve been dipping into magazines and books about crafts I don’t even practise—yet!—because I find that ideas, techniques, and images start to feed off one another when you‘re not focusing on just one medium. I’m also taking a vast number of photos of M every day, because she is so photogenic. I love capturing her. I have painted her in oil pastel and sketched her while she was sleeping, and there’s a sketch I made of two of her favourite cuddly toys that I’m planning to frame for her bedroom. We’re surrounded by toys here, so it’s not surprising they get in on the art too!

CC: You participate in the EDM Challenge—is that something you do regularly?
E-JR:
I discovered the Everyday Matters group on Yahoo early last year. It is a very active group, in which members share sketches and paintings and visual journals and art supply recommendations, as well as approaches to drawing and painting. The challenges offer no-pressure encouragement to get drawing: a weekly suggestion is posted to the group which is then added to the ever-growing list of subjects to sketch, and members tackle it as and when and if they please, then share with the group. My approach to the challenges is a haphazard one, mostly because my mind tends to go off in too many directions at once for any kind of prompt to stay lodged there for long, but I enjoy doing and posting them, and seeing what other artists have come up with in response to the same prompt.

CC: What are your top 5 favorite blogs—the ones you check every day?
E-JR:
It’s so difficult to narrow it down to five, especially with Yahoo groups, Flickr, Ravelry and podcasts also competing for my time now. I check the EDM Superblog daily, as it’s a good way of accessing the latest blog posts of a large number of the group’s members in one place. I’m also an avid listener of the Creative Mom Podcast and Cast On. The Artful Parent blog is a recent discovery that’s very inspiring too [check out Breakfast with Jean]. The stuff I read regularly is listed on my own blog.

CC: What is your greatest indulgence?
E-JR:
Art and craft magazines! The Pastel Journal, Interweave Crochet, International Artist, Knitscene—and whatever magazines in French I can lay my hands on. If there’s a glass of wine handy with which to wash down all this information, that’s always a welcome indulgence too.

CC: What are you reading right now?
E-JR:
The Quincunx by Charles Palliser—a novel I’d been daring myself to read about 15 years, and which, now that I have less free time than ever, I’ve somehow decided I should get stuck into. I think it may be precisely because I’m resigned to the fact that I can no longer devour books as greedily as I used to, besides which I’m usually dipping into several non-fiction books at the same time. At the moment, these include Feutres: regarder le ciel et créer, Françoise Tellier-Loumagne‘s book about felting, and Ruth Issett’s Glorious Papers.

CC: What advice would you offer to other mothers struggling to be more creative and find time for their art?
E-JR: For me, the way forward is to embrace those periods of, say, 10 minutes to crochet a few rows of my scarf, knit a row of my shrug, draw the outline of a simple still life to be painted at a later date, or scribble ideas in a notebook. Time that only presents itself to you in small amounts becomes all the more precious, I think, and you learn how to be more productive in a short space of time, picking up whatever tool is to hand instead of faffing around looking for a particular pencil. When I go anywhere, my bag is always over-optimistically crammed full of stuff—sketchbook, pen, watercolour bijou box, and waterbrush, a small crochet project, my digital camera, a knitting magazine—in case I get 5 minutes. And since I work from home, there’s nobody to tell me on my work days that I can’t use my lunch hour to sketch what I’m about to eat, or listen to a knitting podcast as I clean the kitchen.

In order to use the time more productively, though, I do think you need to have some idea of what it is you’re trying to produce, even if it never materializes in the form you envisage. Setting monthly goals can be helpful. I hope September will see me becoming more familiar with my sewing machine, managing a couple of oil pastels, coming up with my first ATC [artist trading card] for an exchange, filling a few sketchbook pages while I’m on holiday later in the month, and keeping up with Project 365 (to take a photo every day for a year). If I achieve all of these things, I’ll be surprised. But I’ll be even more surprised if I don’t manage a few of them, now that I’ve fixed them in my mind. In between all of that and work, I expect to spend a lot of time at the kitchen table with my daughter, finding new ways to make a mess and have fun. I love buying new art materials for her as much as I love acquiring them for myself. The other morning our explorations with paint lasted a wonderful 90 minutes. At 2 years old, she now exclaims “Yeah! Painting!” and rushes to the table whenever I suggest an art session. I’m not sure which of us is more excited. And that’s a joy.

CC: Thank you for the wisdom and inspiration, Emma-Jane!

Kelly: Sleeping Beauty Has Awakened..and She’s a Reader!

Sleeping Beauty

Cathy’s Pleasant Surprises post got me thinking about “being present,” what that means and how it relates to what we are all trying to do here. DH and I had a “moment” the other night with our girls. We were reading their bedtime story and DH didn’t have his glasses on, so he struggled over a few words here and there. It was a fairly involved story, the German fairy tale on which Sleeping Beauty is based, and the reading level was pretty advanced. Definitely not one of those board books with one or two sentences per page, but rather more like middle school reading level. When DH started missing a word here and there, Sarah actually started correcting him. She did this several times, and then DH said, “Well, would you like to read it instead?”, you know, in that “sarcastic Daddy” tone. Then, lo and behold, she did just that. She picked up the story where he left off, word for word, like she was reading it right off the page. We’re talking a story with phrases like “the castle was surrounded with a thorny hedge of briars” and “the soldiers were at their battlements”. “Battlements,” for Pete’s sake! This is a five-year-old! And it’s not a book we read often simply because the stories are rather long and involved! She went on like this for several very long paragraphs while DH and I looked on in awe. The book came with a narrative CD of the stories, and I realized she had actually memorized the story; sometimes the girls listen to the CD while they are going to sleep at night. I have a genius on my hands! (said the proud and over-zealous Mama….)

So back to the “being present” portion of this broadcast. You just blink, and BOOM!, one of your five-year-olds is “reading” at a sixth grade level. An over-exaggeration maybe, but it begs the point: so much happens when we are not paying attention. That’s the interesting thing about having twins. I have been paying attention enough to notice what Sarah’s strengths are and what Livvie’s strengths are, and they are very different. Sarah is very strong in the language area, as evidenced by that moment we had the other night. She also already has my knack for remembering song lyrics. I’ve always chalked mine up to being a musician; I’m a classically trained pianist and I’ve been taking guitar for about seven years now. Hers just seems to come with that strong grasp of words and memory. Livvie thrives in art, music, and motor skills. She doesn’t need much help from me to create some pretty impressive art pieces, and yesterday afternoon I watched as she set up her own little three piece band—of piano, Tupperware container, and piece of paper—and went to patting out a rhythmic pattern even my guitar teacher would be impressed with. The girl’s got chops! Watching this, I realize what will be one of my biggest creative challenges involving my children: how to bring out the best in each when they are the exact same age and nearly inseparable. My challenge will be in guiding them both to thrive in the areas they excel, yet still keep them on target in the areas they don’t…and figure out how to do it all at the same time! Yikes! I’m open to suggestions!

Kristine: The Quest for Balance and Sanity

Greetings! I’m excited and honored to join Creative Construction.

I’ve always been a Type-A personality, which has been a both a blessing and a curse my entire life. On the plus side, I’m extremely organized. On the negative side, I can be a tad neurotic. Okay, REALLY neurotic depending on the day. Just ask my husband.

When I had my first child in December 2007, I thought I could handle it all. I took a week off from work after I gave birth and then was back on the computer editing layouts the next week. (Being self-employed means no paid maternity leave, of course.) And I believed that after a few months of taking care of my baby, life would pretty much go back to normal.

It didn’t take me long to learn that “normal” was a concept that was going to change on a daily basis.

So I’ve changed big time. I’ve learned that if I can get a shower and dressed before lunch, it’s a good day, and if I can accomplish at least half of the things on my to-do list, even better. I’ve also learned that a day spent playing with my daughter and watching her smile is better than anything in the entire world.

I work part-time at home as a freelance technical magazine editor, moonlight as an aspiring novelist, and work full-time as a mommy and wife. There are days when I feel I can juggle it all. Then there are days when brushing my hair is an accomplishment and I question my sanity.

But underneath it all, I’m a writer. That’s the true core of who I am.

I write because it makes me feel alive. I write as a way to capture moments that I know I won’t remember in another year or two. I write as a way to escape reality and enter a world of my own control. I write as a way to reconnect with myself and make a difference. I write because I can’t imagine not doing so.

I leave you all with a quote that sums up the importance of writing in my life, one I heard from a published author during a writing conference I attended a few years ago and which has stuck with me ever since. The subject of the speech was motivation, and when this author was asked why she wrote fiction, she said simply, “I write to entertain, and while I may not be able to change the world, I may be able to change someone’s afternoon.”

It’s a pleasure to be here.

Contest update!

I just learned that our own dear Brittany Vandeputte sent in an entry for this week’s prompt that never arrived! She also sent one in for “chocolate” (check it out at the end of the chocolate post) and I didn’t get that one either! I’m so sorry, Brittany. Your entries aren’t in my spam folder, so I don’t know what happened. You have my personal e-mail address now, so please use that from now on. If anyone else has ever submitted something that didn’t show up in the weekly collection, please post a comment here to let me know!

Brittany writes: “This is a poem I wrote in college — a time in my life when practicality did not dictate that I put away my 3-inch heels and platform shoes. I had assembled quite a collection of shoes from my forays in Europe and optimistically wrote this in the hopes that in those shoes, this was how other people saw me. (Funny how I thought they were *practical* at the time. 🙂 ) ” Her entry:

Shoes
She’s a pretty girl, looks like she’s been places
Her shoes have a personality all their own.
They look worn, but determined, in a dignified, mysterious way.
They look foreign, and knowledgeable, like they’ve got something to say in a foreign tongue.
But the girl isn’t talking, she’s just staring into space.
What goes on behind such a passive face?
She could be conjugating French verbs or thinking about an Italian lover.
It doesn’t seem to matter really, one way or the other.
She’s a pretty girl in sensible shoes.
One does not mince words in shoes like these.
She’s a goddess or a demon.
Her shoes love ’em and leave ’em.
But her shoes, they hint at that smile.
She’s a pretty girl, looks like she’s been places.
Her shoes have a personality all their own.
They look worn, but determined, in a dignified, mysterious way.
They look foreign and knowledgeable, like they’ve got something to say in a foreign tongue.
But the girl isn’t talking.
She lets her shoes do the walking when she walks away.

9/10 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

Last week’s creativity contest prompt, “my favorite shoes,” was not a favorite with blog readers! Cathy Coley wins as the sole entrant. I do want to personally give Cathy a round of applause for entering the contest every week, without fail, even when the prompt necessarily doesn’t grab her. Go, Cathy! Your $10 amazon.com gift certificate is en route. Cathy’s entry:

My Favorite Shoes
I had to think long and hard about shoes for this prompt. It’s not something I’m accustomed to doing of late. You see, my feet and back and hips and ankles ache, no matter what I wear, so shoes for me have become the last ditch thing. If I leave the house, I wear pretty much one pair that I pick up cheaply. Their life is a solitary one until I’ve worn them out or the dog eats them beyond recognition.

Lately, I’ve branched out and made a shoe social club of three pairs under my desk. The sandals, summer’s coming to an end, the black square toed slip-ons and the brown pointed penny moccasins. That’s right, I have a black pair and a brown pair these days. The black only have a slight chew mark at the heel, and a nibble out of the insole which looks like the chew mark kids draw on apple drawings with the worm wiggling out. The gardening clogs remain steadfastly by the slider to the backyard. They are an exclusive sort.

In the house, and even to the mailbox, I am a barefoot gal. I am allergic to sneakers, literally. My feet are freedom seekers. Until the cold sets in, then I am a sock gal. My feet are always horrifyingly cold, even if the weather isn’t too chilly. I thought that would change after my move southward, but I did not anticipate the no basement housing plan that prevails below the Mason-Dixon Line. So my first floor is cement slab, under the wood one we installed in the kitchen and den, and the ugly industrial carpeting in the living room and dining room we want to replace. Try walking across a steady 40 degree floor with icicle feet, especially those front hall tiles. It hurts—a lot, all the time. So come wintertime, I wear socks and shoes in the house now. I miss my old Boston apartments where whoever lived below me always kept their heat too high, so I could go barefoot in December. They didn’t know that’s why they were doing so, but I sure appreciated the psychic connection.

I was a barefooter, even as a kid. Until I was seven, I lived in a neighborhood with sidewalks, one block from the beach. I dared the other kids to dare me to walk on the broken glass which often littered our sidewalks from the high schoolers’ beach going festivities of the previous night. My feet were tougher than a horse’s hooves from walking or running down the hot black tar street to the beach, on the sand, and clambering all over the barnacled, seaweed and mussel covered rocky jetty. I walked that glass, as if I were a fire walker walking the coals. It was almost spiritual, about as spiritual as a five-year-old out-toughing her friends can get.

The spring I was seven, we moved to a dead-end street whose dead-end abutted another. It was a private road with slices of woods through the backyards of the whole neighborhood. My backyard was a big hill down from the house to the woods, with great climbing trees scattered throughout. I was always monkeying around barefoot, of course. For my fourteenth birthday I received the ten-speed with spiky pedals which I rode barefoot, to the astonishment of many neighborhood moms. I rode it to the beach of course, walked across that old hot tar parking lot to the hot sand then the cool reef at low tide.

I took great pride in my bare feet’s toughness. I was very protestant about it, to suffer was to be close to God. But I did not really suffer, I had the protestant work ethic about my bare feet. I had suffered to get them tough, and that made me tough. And I was in toe shoes as a child dancer by age nine, which is probably a large part of the reason I’m such an achy mess now.

Now, by my old standards, I am a weak old tenderfoot. But my feet are still more calloused than most, and I like them this way. There were teenaged years, college years and my young adulthood when I had favorite comfy shoes, favorite pretty shoes, cool suede boots and three inch heels in which I tromped all over Boston twice as fast as anyone else on the sidewalk. But now, I throw on what I can find, what’ll do, what’ll be presentable enough to go out in public, but not have to bother too much about. And that’s just fine by me. As long as I can feel grass and sand between my toes, I’ll have the happiest feet around.

 

From me (Miranda): There are a few “girly” things I didn’t learn as a child. It wasn’t until well into adulthood that I learned how the right undergarments are vital to the fashion package. It also took me a long time to learn that the right pair of shoes can save almost any outfit. These days, I am always on the lookout for good shoes that are comfortable but stylin’ (at least to me). I don’t do the traditional pump — those just hurt too much, and it’s not my style. But there’s still a lot to pick from, and I rarely leave DSW empty-handed. These days, when I need all the help I can get to look put together, my favorite shoes are friendly and forgiving. They fall into the category of things I love, regardless of whatever anyone else thinks about them. We all need a few things like that, don’t we?

 


The Importance of Feet
To understanding
shoes, I arrive late in life—
but now wear them well

 

This week’s prompt: “The guitar”

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 8:00 p.m. eastern time on Tuesday, September 16. 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.) Remember, the point here 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.