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Making time to create

At the blog Abundance, I came across an interesting post on making time to create. Marelisa, the Abundance blogger, includes many good ideas for getting yourself to show up and be effective — although you may find that many of the ideas are not altogether relevant to someone at home with little ones.

Children or no children, the author points out the necessity of prioritizing your creative time — and references that guru of business/life organization, Stephen Covey, with a reminder that we need to spend time on the important things in our lives, not just the most urgent ones. A significant distinction. While taking care of all the things that “need” to be taken care of, it’s easy to lose sight of the creative work that is important to you. This work is important not only because it satisfies you and moves you closer to realizing your creative dreams, but also because spending time being creative has a positive ripple effect in so many other areas of your life.

In helping to increase one’s focus on being creative and making the most of creative opportunities, I was intrigued by the following suggestion:

Establish a Clear Purpose for Every Creativity Session
When you sit down to create make sure that you have a clear sense of what you aim to accomplish during that particular creativity session. For instance, your goal could be to spend forty minutes researching an article on the effects of stress on creativity, to spend fifteen minutes creating an outline, and to spend the remainder of the time allotted to get started writing the article.

I really like this idea, and I don’t think I’ve thought about it quite so concretely before. Sometimes just “spend time writing” is a little too open-ended for me. Sure, it feels good to actually meet that goal and do some writing, but it feels even better if my goal is “finish chapter four” and I actually finish it.

Attaching a specific goal to your anticipated output also helps to raise its importance. It’s not just that you need to spend some time painting this week, you need to finish a sketch for a new still life you’ve had in mind. I think that this level of specificity helps to legitimize your work — which is vital in the battle of finding time for what’s important, not just the things that are urgent.

What do you think? Do you like working for something specific, or do you feel like that squashes your creative spark? When you’re working on a larger project, does it help to break that project into manageable pieces, and then focus consciously on each one?

And while we’re talking about time management for domestic life, here’s a nice refersher course for moms, from Simple Mom, if you need a little mentoring.

[Photo mosaic courtesy Leo Reynolds.]

Kelly faring OK with Tropcial Storm Fay?

Cathy just pointed out that Kelly Warren’s most recent blog post included a photo of her girls kayaking in their backyard. Sending thoughts and prayers that Kelly and all her neighbors are weathering the flood without too much damage!

Breakfast with Elizabeth

If you’re looking for a dose of inspiration, voilà. I guarantee that what artist Elizabeth Beck has to say is going to hit you like a double espresso. When you finish reading (and laughing), you’re going to leap up and get busy. (Just don’t leap up so fast that you twist an ankle.) So here, for your bloggy delight, is the latest installment of Breakfast.

Elizabeth

CC: Please give us an intro to who you are, what you do, and your family headcount.
EB:
I’m Elizabeth, a wife, a mom, and an artist—those are the big ones, anyway. I was a teacher before I started staying home with my kids more than 11 years ago. When I was ready to go back to work, I decided to pursue art as a fulltime career choice—or, as fulltime as I could manage it. Andy and I started dating in college, dated a LONG time, and have been married for 18 years. We have boy/girl twins who are 11 and start middle school this week and a little one who is 7. I would be remiss in discussing my family if I left out the dog. We have a five-pound Maltese named Dixie. My twins asked for a dog, and I gave them a baby sister; the baby sister asked for a baby brother, and I gave her a dog. I wonder what the dog is going to ask for?

CC: Tell us about your artwork and your Etsy shop.
EB:
Eep! I’m kind of slack on my Etsy shop. I have some prints of my art there, and have sold some—like five! But I’ve sold about 200 of those prints at art shows and such. I think the groovy thing about them is that they can be completely personalized. I have an Etsy shop because it seems like the thing to do, but I never really got on board with the marketing of it. Those prints are from original collages that I make on stretched canvases. I sell my canvases through a GREAT gallery, Lola’s in Roswell, Georgia. A couple of other galleries carry my work as well, on a smaller scale. I also do a couple of art shows a year, have some decorators who sell my work for me, and have quite a few word-of-mouth buyers. My collages are not the typical collages that are prevalent now. I primarily do NOT use other people’s imagery. Instead, I paint groovy papers and use them to make my imagery. I tend to have traditional compositions done with a non-traditional kick.

CC: What prompted you to start a blog? What keeps you going?
EB:
when I started REALLY trying to be an artist, the hardest part was the business end: the marketing. I could paint a thousand paintings, but I worried that they’d all end up in my basement if I didn’t tell the world I was making them. I started with flickr, just putting my art on my page. My signature line on my e-mails had my flickr site, so everyone I had any e-mail contact with knew I had “started” being a REAL artist. That flickr community was a perfect way of networking with other artists and I even sold some pieces online when people who found a piece on flickr contacted me.

Moving on to a blog from that was a natural progression. I wanted to write about my art: what I was doing, how I was doing it, how it made me feel, what I was planning. It took me a while to figure out that I wasn’t doing it for my friends and family to read, but for an art community that has developed in the blogosphere—and I do think that someone interested in investing in art is more likely to do so if they “know” the artist, even if that knowledge of them is from a blog. Why do I keep on blogging? I think it is partly accountability. Nearly every day I can say, yes, I did something artsy today and can post it. Having that blog keeps me from having long stretches of no creativity. I’m always working on something. I also do it because I like it. I enjoy it; it makes me happy.

CC: Where do you do your creative work?
EB:
I have a very groovy basement. I even have a whole flickr set of its evolution from messy to tidy to messy to tidy to messy. It is currently on the rapid descent to disaster area. After my next art deadline passes, I’ll do a big cleanup. It’s a cyclical thing I have going. When we bought this house, the basement was an unfinished, unwindowed, dank, dark, yucky spot. But it is now finished out. I put in a sink and yummy yellow happy walls. It has perfect cement slab floors that give me no angst when I spill or splatter paint. It has lots of organizational drawers and bins and cupboards—and it is ALL MINE. It used to be my kids’ playspace with a tiny nook for my art. But as they’ve grown, my space has expanded and theirs has shrunk. The nice thing though is that my kids are all artsy, fun, and usually have their own projects going in my art studio.

CC: Do you have a schedule for your creative work? Tell us about your leap to fulltime art.
EB:
When my youngest child was nearing the age for kindergarten, I had a fleeting “oh-my-gosh-what-am-I-going-to-do-without-my-baby” thing. I considered going back to work as a teacher. Then I figured that I could actually give fulltime artist a try. It was a very conscious decision. Before the kindergarten year started, I had signed up to participate in an art show that fall with no paintings to show!! But it was a plan, and I love a good plan. That show went very well I sold loads. And all it takes is one sale to make you want to sell another. I have all this art in me trying to get out—but I think it would manifest itself differently if I weren’t selling it. Because I am fortunate enough to sell my pieces, I take risks, like painting giant canvases or doing a series of 18 canvases. if they were collecting dust in my basement and not getting sold, I’d be working smaller or less or in different media. I actually love sewing and ceramics and painting furniture. I’m pretty sure I’d like woodworking and welding and wedding cake decorating if I had a go at them. So if I wasn’t selling what I create, I might be creating something altogether different.

That was my leap to fulltime art. I skipped the “do you have a schedule” part of the question…Yes, when my kids are in school I try to do art EVERY day, skip none. Sometimes that time is an hour or less but some days I walk the kids to school, walk the dog a couple of miles, and then start art at 9 o’clock. I can get in six hours with just a couple of dog-walking breaks. I try to do more than 20 hours of art a week. Some weeks I can do 30 or more, especially if I’m building up for a show. It took me a while to figure out that my art time is not actually JUST while a paintbrush is in hand. All the business parts of it need to count. During the school week, when my kids are home, I am not painting—instead, I’m busy doing that mom thing that really takes full attention.

The best thing that I have going for me is that my best pal, Allison Strine, is an artist too. We paint at each other’s houses frequently. She pushes me to be more and better and riskier and cooler and groovier. We do a lot of our shows in side-by-side booths. We talk each other through the rough spots of being artists. She’s my biggest cheerleader. She gets it.

CC: What do you struggle with most?
EB:
Wow, I’m pretty struggle-free. My big picture is very, very happy. So the stuff that isn’t so easy doesn’t seem like too big a deal. I’m pretty laid back but I do have struggles, of course, everyone does. Three kids and all their activities keep me hopping. I don’t much like to cook, and yet I cook dinner for my family every night. Maybe that’s their struggle, not mine (spaghetti, again?). I’d join a nudist colony if you promised I’d never have to do another load of laundry in my life. That won’t happen because my family shouts me down every time I suggest it (do you want to join a nudist colony or help me with laundry?).

And art wise? I’m so happy to be doing art that it never feels like much of a struggle. My biggest art struggle at the moment is a September 1 deadline for two four foot by six foot canvases. SO big is not SO easy, but “struggle” might be overstating. It’s more of a procrastination thing at this point. Another struggle is a gorgeous green canvas that I made about two years ago, four feet wide. At the moment is has a cow I cut from a map taped to it, waiting for me to be brave enough to move on with it, glue it down. Rather than actually work on it, I expend all my moments dithering on it. So, considering I started the paragraph saying I’m pretty struggle free, that’s a lot of struggles—but all low-rent struggles, as struggles go.

CC: How much does guilt factor in your life?
EB: I don’t really do guilt and I don’t know why. I think it is actually a pretty unique thing about me. Nearly every woman I know feels guilt about something or other, or even about multiple things. Mostly I do what I think is right—and what I need to do and what I love to do. So where’s the need for guilt? I think I don’t bother to take the time for guilt. It’s just not productive enough. Rather than feeling guilty about eating another bowl of ice cream, I just enjoy the ice cream. Same with chores. Oh, I didn’t go to the bank for the ninth day running—I hope I go tomorrow—now where is that check I’m meant to deposit? Hmmmm, what should I have for dinner? Noodles are easy, and we didn’t eat them last night. Oh! Here’s a true confession. My son had noodles all three meals yesterday. In his words: for the first time in his life! Leftover mac ’n cheese for breakfast, leftover tortellini for lunch, spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner. You might think I’m a bad mother, but I have no guilt—and he did have a banana with that mac ’n cheese to make it a bit more breakfast.

CC: Where do you find inspiration?
EB:
This is the hardest question. I don’t KNOW where I find inspiration. I THINK I find it everywhere, in maps and dictionaries, in the perfect red paint (Van Gogh’s), in the perfect paintbrush (feathered), in huge canvases, in tiny canvases, on flickr, in my backyard, in my heart, in my head, in colors, in books, in letters, in stencils, in stamps—it kind of just happens. I’ll work on this answer and see if it is conscious or subconscious and where it comes from. So ask me again later.

CC: What are your top 5 favorite blogs?
EB: My read-it-every-day-and-feel-so-enlightened-and-smarter-for-having-read-it blog:

My never-met-in-real-life-pals-who-are-artists-and-have-happy-artsy-blogs-that-I-try-to-visit-every-day blogs:

I know that’s too many, but I’m not much for rule following and those are all artsy happy blogs that I really enjoy.

CC: What is your greatest indulgence?
EB:
At the moment? Tennis. I had to think for a while about if that was just too weird to write, but it’s my favorite thing right now. I’ve been playing not quite two years and I’m not very good, but I play on a team and I take lessons. I scheme with a best pal, Dana, how to play more, more, more. It takes up some very precious commodities: time, money, and energy.

she: e, what are you doing today?
me: oh, I’m planning on spending 9 to 3 in my art studio, yada, yada, big plans, green canvas, map cow, yada yada
she: can you play tennis at 9:30?
me: yes

Without batting an eyelash, it seems I’ll drop anything for tennis. That’s indulgent, right?

CC: What are you reading right now?
EB: I am reading Snakehead, an Alex Ryder mystery, by Anthony Horowitz. It’s teen fiction. My 11-year-olds have both read the whole series—this is number seven for me. I finished Ark Angel yesterday and am already on page 100 or so of this next one. One of my most favorite joys is that my kids are growing up and matching my interests. I love playing games, and they all are happy to play the games I love (Rummikub, Life, Sequence, Yahtzee, Apple to Apple, Ruckus, Set) and the big two are finally reading books that I can read and love too. Another series, Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan, was awesome. I think we’ve read four of those. They are smart and interesting books, made all the better because I can talk to my kids about them.

Redux on indulgences: Books are my indulgence. I don’t just love READING books; I love buying them, I love having shelves and shelves of them. When I was a kid, my parents had books in every room. When I had to read a book for school, my parents ALWAYS had it on a shelf somewhere. My freshman year in high school I started reading Agatha Christie—and probably read fifty of them that year, just because my dad had them sitting there available to me. (I just googled it: Agatha Christie wrote 79 mysteries, 6 romances under a pseudonym, and 4 nonfiction books! Gosh, I love google.) So, that said, I hope to have loads of grand books in my house for my kids to choose from. I want everyone to always have a good book available.

CC: What advice would you offer to other mothers struggling to find the time and means to be more creative?
EB:
Be happy. Find the things that you love and do them. If you love playing on the playground with your kids, play on the playground. If you HATE playing on the playground, skip it. They won’t grow up thinking themselves playground deprived; they’ll remember the great stuff you did do. My kids have logged in countless bike miles, because that’s what I love. Some people think that taking your seven-year-old on a ten mile bike ride is torture. My seven-year-old thinks she’s lucky I let her come. She knows she’s strong. My kids had used more paint by the time they were three than most people use in a lifetime. We painted because that is what I love. My kids know our bookstore as well as I do. When they were especially little, we did what made ME happy and it made all of us happier. When the kids were little, I did NOT enjoy (or play) Candyland but I loved Hi Ho Cherry-O, Busy Town Bingo, and Concentration. My son has been beating me at Concentration since he was 2. My husband played a lot of Candyland—it didn’t bug him.

So, while you are with your kids? Be happy, do great things, have fun, be happy. And, just as important, make a point of not being with your kids. Whether it’s naptime, after bedtime, with a babysitter, a girls night out, or a date with your husband, be a grown up with interests and a life. Find what you love and do it. Be happy make a point of being happy.

CC: Thank you so much for sharing. You are truly an inspration, Elizabeth!

Cathy: The boys are back in town

My two sons, K and S have been away at their father’s for a solid month. This is the longest I’ve been away from them since, to be honest, FOREVER. I spent most of that time gardening, enjoying baby C and long relaxed walks with the dog, reading or writing by the lake, and sitting in front of my pc writing in my manuscript and ok, I admit it, surfing the web. Without having to constantly break up spats or redirect from tv, videos, video games, I was free to be lazy. I was good at it, too. If I absolutely didn’t have to get out of my chair, I didn’t. If the only interruptions I had were baby interruptions, that’s less than a third of the interruptions I usually have. It sure was quiet around here, too. Even my mother-in-law began to think it was too quiet. My boys make a lot of noise, especially S. An old friend of mine referred to him a number of years ago as ‘the wall of noise’ and she promptly stopped hanging out with us. I guess she didn’t want her kids to learn any new tricks.

Anyway. I missed them terribly, and I got used to the quiet. I wrote, and I enjoyed the freedom to do so. I almost felt like the post-collegiate promise of a writer I felt, well, post-collegiately.

The Coley Clan

The Coley Clan

We spent this weekend visiting my family in Connecticut, showing off the baby, getting grandparents and uncles and cousins time in with the boys, and we all had a great time once the boys were back in my domain. Here’s the whole Coley Clan. My parents, my two brothers and their gangs, and us.

Now we’re home. The house is turned upside down from paint job. All the furniture is in the garage, all the gewgaws, too. The walls and ceiling are beautiful, but boy do we have a lot of work. It’s like moving in all over again. Just two years ago, we moved twice. Once, into the area, then three months later, we moved into this house, and moved my mother-in-law into the house, too. Moving furniture and setting everything up again is not my idea of fun. Not this week, after Friday and Monday were spent, for about 12 hours average each, in the van.

Now we’re home, and the boys were so good while we stayed at my brother’s house. One of the first things that happened here was The Scream From Upstairs. The one that happens several times a day when K won’t let S into his room for some brother time or a lego raid. The one where S is just going to die if K won’t let him in. The one which if I’m being a good mom, I haul my butt out of my chair and go play field manager, break it up, find out how we can best go from here, resolve the conflict and redirect. The one which if I’m being a bad mom, or I’m nursing, I holler up the stairs for quiet, and when they come down, each pleading their case before me re: who started it, whose fault it is, etc, and I say, I don’t care, get away from me, if you can’t work it out, go to your rooms. And they stomp away whining a chorus of ‘it’s not fair’.

Then this afternoon, it took us awhile but we got out the door and went out to the neighborhood pool. I didn’t bring baby C there the whole time they were gone. She loves the water. The boys do, too. After all, they all take after their mother. Boy did we have fun, and it was relaxing. I didn’t write. Until now. Thank goodness baby C slept after the pool. By the way, S came over about six times to interrupt while I wrote this. K did so twice. Or was it three times? I’m so glad they’re home.

Please wrap your arms around Alana

One of this blog’s friends, Alana, is experiencing a painful personal loss right now. Please join me in sending Alana and her family your thoughts and prayers.

8/20 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

Two entries this week for the prompt “chocolate.” Since there were only two, I thought the fairest judge would be a coin toss: and our winner is Kelly Warren. Congratulations, Kelly! (Good things come to those of you who are prolific! Your $10 amazon.com gift certificate is on its way.)

Kelly writes: “I’ve been playing around with digitally framed TTV photography and created this shot of our chocolate lab Isabelle. I can’t believe she actually sat still long enough for me to catch this portrait. She’s just over a year old, but still a puppy…..a very large puppy.”

 

 

From Cathy Coley, an ode:

Dear Chocolate

It’s all about the cocoa content:
The higher the better.
I can forgo the sugar.
Forget the milk.
I’d rather eat the beans,
Inhale the Dutch powder
Meant for comfort after skating.
Let it drip bittersweet on
The back of my tongue.

Take me to Brazil.
Let me lick the bark.
Salza, Rumba in your branches.
Warm my soul with your night heat,
Chocolate. Chocolate, chocolate!

 

From me, Miranda. Since we have a little extra space this week, I’m hogging up all the room for myself. That’s kind of what chocolate does to me. It turns me into a ravenous, truffle-sniffing pig.

The haiku version:

In Paris
Velvet chocolate
wrapped in lavender papers
brought me to my knees

And here’s the full story, in case you’re wondering what that haiku was about. The following piece was published last year by Sun Magazine for the prompt “fame and fortune.” Really, it all comes down to chocolate. (Apparently, if you eat enough of it, you wake up with a rather unpleasant reality check.)

I moved to Paris when I was nineteen with the goal of becoming an actress or a model. I’d already been rejected by several New York City modeling agencies, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I’d studied acting, dance, and voice. I was reasonably pretty and on the tall side at five feet nine — though not tall enough by New York standards. At 132 pounds, I wasn’t as thin as I needed to be either, but I was working on that.

I had an agent waiting for me in Paris. Well, maybe not waiting, exactly. While having dinner at a close friend’s house, I’d hit it off with her father’s visiting colleague, whose brother François was a casting agent in Paris. I got his number, packed my suitcases, and headed for France.

It all went well at first. I slept on the floor at a good friend’s apartment, in a tiny room that smelled strongly of tea and soap. Every day I walked for hours through the cold gray city, practicing my high-school French. I sat in real French cafés, drinking grand crème and smoking cigarettes, and I went to parties where I was surrounded by glamorous, creative people.

François was working on a television project that he said would be the first French miniseries. The star was the aging singer Johnny Hallyday. I was to be an extra in a bar scene. I arrived at the studio early and, after hair and makeup, moved to the soundstage, where the other extras and I were placed around a bar facade. Johnny Hallyday’s arrival on set was greeted by an awe-filled hush. The filming was just as I’d imagined, with the director yelling, “Cut!” — only in French. He yelled it quite a lot, as Hallyday had difficulty remembering his lines.

After my successful turn as an extra, François gave me the name of a talent agent, whom I met with in a blindingly sunny office on the Rue Marbeuf. He nodded approvingly at me and got me a job performing at a shopping mall in the northern suburb of Sarcelles: six girls parading through the mall to promote a live race-car demonstration on the promenade. The event ended in disaster when the race car lost control and swerved into the crowd, injuring several onlookers.

Next I auditioned for a TV show. When I discovered that the script called for me to flash my breasts, I only mimed exposing myself for the production staff. I didn’t get called back. Then my agent sent me to try out for a necklace advertisement, but the woman across the desk coldly observed that I seemed to have gained some weight since my pictures had been taken. You see, I’d discovered that the corner market near my new apartment sold Milka, my favorite chocolate bars, by the three-pack. They’d become a staple in my diet.

As my social life slowed to a crawl, I stopped marketing myself and instead read Nabokov novels and ate Milka, reveling in its heady, velvet sweetness. I slept on a thin foam mattress and woke in the morning to stare at cracks in the ceiling and the mess of lilac-colored candy wrappers on the floor. I sometimes rallied and took a walk in the Paris air, but the glimpses of other people’s glamorous lives only left me feeling more adrift.

I began dating Adrien, a photographer I’d met on the race-car job. He was wonderful company but smoked too much pot and always looked emaciated. We had little money, and I had to scrape together my centimes to buy a baguette and a small jar of Nutella. Otherwise I would go to Adrien’s apartment and eat his roommate’s food.

Deciding I needed a change, I cut my hair myself. It came out short — very short — and patchy in the back. It did not look good.

Adrien and I parted ways. My agent stopped calling. My father’s most recent wire transfer — which I’d assured him would be the last — had run out. I was overdrawn at the Crédit Lyonnais. I found a job waitressing at a macrobiotic restaurant, but I couldn’t understand the Japanese cooks, and they couldn’t read my handwriting on the orders. After two shifts, I admitted defeat. Some Italian girls let me sleep on their sofa, and I spent my days cutting pictures from old fashion magazines. Twenty-five pounds heavier, my shorn hair growing back unevenly, I flipped through the glossy pages and ached with desire for what I somehow still believed could be mine.

 

This week’s prompt: “The wedding”

Use the prompt however you like — literally, a cue for color, or a tengential theme. All media are welcome. Please e-mail your entries to creativereality@live.com by 8:00 p.m. on Tuesday, August 26. 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.

 

9/10/08 UPDATE: Brittany Vandeputte sent in an entry that never arrived. Deepest apologies, Brittany! Her acrostic:

C an it get any better than this?
H olding a fork-speared marshmallow
O ver the lit flame from the grill lighter.
C hocolate bar at the ready
O n the kitchen counter.
L ift the sticky singed goodness
A dd four squares of Hersheyʼs finest
T hen surround in walls of graham.
E at when no oneʼs watching.

Kate: De-funking

[Editor’s note: When I read the post below at Kate’s blog yesterday, I knew it belonged here too. Kate graciously agreed to cross-post at Creative Construction, and she’s going to post here next week to update us on her new writing routine. Brava, Kate! And if you haven’t met Kate yet, it’s never too late for Breakfast.]

I’ve been in such a funk this summer, which is unlike me because I love summer. I love the green and the heat (within reason) and the long days. But the days have been so very long with the two girls, and I’m always scrambling to squeeze in one more thing. I have been taking Zoë with me to work for a couple of months now, and frankly, it doesn’t work. She usually falls asleep in the car on the way there, but she wakes up after about ½ hour, and then I nurse her and put her on the floor next to my desk or hold her as I type. I share the office, which is slightly larger than a broom closet, with two other people, and while they are gracious about my crying and fussy baby, I know that they must want to wring my neck or Zoë’s neck or both of our necks. So, after another ½ hour, I pack up my things and the baby and head home. Zoë sometimes falls asleep again on the way home, only to wake up as I pull up in front of our house. By the time I nurse her again and bounce her and get her ready to fall asleep for real (whatever that means), it’s time to go pick up Stella from whatever camp I’ve enrolled her in for the week. Sometimes Zoë falls asleep for a couple of hours in the late afternoon, during which I work a little and play with Stella. Later, we have dinner, Stella showers (she has declared herself too old for baths) and we read books before bed. All of these things are accompanied by Zoë’s fussing and crying and Stella’s late-afternoon whining. (Sometimes Zoë cries so much while I’m reading to Stella that I just put her in her crib in the other room and let her wail as we make our way through the three books of the night.) When I finally get them both to sleep (about 8:30), I pour myself a glass of wine and sit on the porch and stare out at the street, semi-comatose. This is when D usually gets home. We talk for a bit and often watch an episode of The Wire, which is fabulous and heartbreaking. Then I go to bed, wake up three times to nurse Zoë, then begin the day all over again.

Things will be easier in a couple of weeks because D won’t have to coach in the evenings anymore, so he’ll be home to help with dinner and kids and bedtime. Also, I’ll be done with my job in two weeks, and that will be a relief.

But the thing I can do in order to de-funk myself is to carve out serious writing time, and I’m determined to do this. D has agreed to go into work a little late so that I can write everyday from 7-9 a.m. It’s the only way I will make progress on the essay I’ve begun. I also need to dive back into my book because I finally figured out what it is really about. If I were one of my students, I would have pressured myself into this discovery about, um, a year ago, when I finished the damn thing. In workshops I always ask them to identify for the author what the piece is really about. But I failed to heed my own advice, failed to answer my own questions. (I hate when I do this.)

But this morning while I was changing Zoë’s diaper (after waking many nights feeling despondent about my “this is no market for this” book), I realized that the book is really about learning to live with uncertainty. Having a preemie is the situation, of course, but the real story is about uncertainty, control, and having faith that I will be able to handle the unexpected. (If you haven’t read Vivian Gornick’s The Situation and the Story, you should—she’s the one who makes the distinction between a memoir’s situation and its real story.) Knowing what the book is about won’t change the perception of my book as a preemie book, of course, but it will make the book better, and this makes me feel hopeful again.

The other thing that makes me feel hopeful is that D will be back tonight (he’s been gone all weekend), and tomorrow I’ll start my morning writing. It will help snap me out of my funk. I’m sure of that.

Bittersweet, dark, white, or milk?

Ladies, I KNOW that I’m not the only one here who has a love-hate relationship with chocolate. But as of Monday night, we only have one submission for this week’s creativity contest. If we don’t receive a few more, I will be forced to drown my disappointment in a large jar of Nutella. Save me!

Kelly: Wonderfully Scary…Change

Nobody warned me. Nobody told me how hard this would be. But fighting back the tears…no, sobs…I found out first hand how hard it is. I’ve told you that my girls start kindergarten next week. We knew that was going to be a hard transition for them. But in looking toward that, I failed to see how hard today, the last day at their current school, would be. Not for them, but for me. They’ve been at this school since they were six months old…babyhood, toddlerhood, pre-school, pre-K…it’s all been there at this wonderful little faith-based school. It’s all we’ve known. And as I signed them in this morning for the last time, the tears that quickly came caught me a little off guard. I hugged Ms. Mary, thanked her for everything she’s done for my girls this year, and then told her we’d be back to visit. Then I went to see Ms. Barbara.

Funny thing about Ms. Barbara. For whatever reason, she moved with the girls every year except this last year for pre-K. She was with them in the baby room; she was with them in the toddler room and the two-year-old room; she and Ms. Belinda were their three-year-old preschool teachers. It wasn’t until pre-K that she was no longer their teacher. Yet every morning when they got there this year, and every afternoon before they’d let DH walk out the door with them, they had to hug Ms. Barbara’s neck.

I have to admit, the first couple of years, Ms. Barbara was not my favorite teacher. She seemed a little hard on the children. But by preschool, I saw how much she truly adored them and they her. Yes, she made them mind, but that was really a good thing, wasn’t it. She helped mold my girls into the well-mannered five-year-olds they are today. So yes, I had to see Ms. Barbara. As I was walking into her classroom, she was sitting down trying to straighten up and prepare for the last big day. When she looked up and saw me, she said, “Oh Lord, not my girls’ Mama, I’ve already been crying enough this morning!” Before she even stood up to give me a hug, we both already had tears streaming down our faces. I wanted to hug a couple more necks but I had to get out of there before I truly started sobbing. Wow. Unexpected…

Change is inevitable. I know that. Yet this thing called parenthood brings in so many new elements to what that change is. I’ve been so anxious for my girls’ making the change, hoping and praying that they’d adjust well, trying to allay their fears by telling them how exciting and fun going to “big girl school” will be, that I completely overlooked my perspective of the change and its effect on me. I sit here this morning a mother, but not the same mother I was yesterday morning. A short fifteen minutes of time changed me this morning. I’m sure this happens to all of us moms at some point. The realization hits that while we can guide and nurture and hope to mold who our children are, ultimately, there are other people in their lives that at times may have an even greater impact, and we are so incredibly blessed that these people have been in our children’s lives. Those are the Ms. Barbara’s and Ms. Belinda’s, the Ms. Tammy’s and Ms. Mary’s, and the Ms. Gaye’s and Ms. Jackie’s and Ms. Tawnda’s of the world. How do we teach our children to say goodbye when we are struggling so terribly with it ourselves? My girls didn’t see my tears this morning. I know after a week or two they’ll adapt just fine, as children always do. But I know they’ll have tears of their own when this realization hits them…when they have children of their own who face a milestone in this wonderfully scary thing called “growing up”. I pray I’m still around to help them through that day.

Breakfast with Brenda

We have a few “Breakfast” chefs-d’oeuvre coming your way in the next few weeks, and here’s one of them. Squeeze yourself a fresh glass of OJ and sit down with Brenda Ponnay, perhaps better known as the blogger Secret Agent Josephine. Brenda is also a mother, freelance graphic designer, illustrator, and painter. Brenda says that her secret to being creative is “I drink a LOT of coffee and I’m not a perfectionist (obviously). I think perfectionism hangs up a lot of talented people.” She may not be a perfectionist, but she certainly is talented.

Brenda (aka Secret Agent Josephine)

Brenda (aka Secret Agent Josephine)

CC: Please give us an intro to who you are, what you do, and your family headcount.
BP:
My real name is Brenda Ponnay but I go by Secret Agent Josephine on the web. It’s a silly little name I made up when I first started blogging when I had no idea what I was doing. It’s since become my own little identity and freelance business. You could say I’m a mom first, illustrator/graphic designer second. I just try do what I love and make sure it pays for itself and doesn’t take away too much of my time from my family. Balancing my freelance career and my family life is a constant struggle but I don’t think I could stop being this way even if someone unplugged me from the internet and forced me to live in some commune in the desert. It’s just who I am. As for my family, they are my husband Toby and my daughter Helena but we call her Baby Bug.

CC: Tell us about your design business and other creative pursuits.
BP:
I mostly illustrate banners, logos and various web graphics. From time to time I help someone design business cards, brochures, etc., but I prefer not to work in print anymore because it takes up too much of my time outside my home. I like doing web work because it is just me and the customer and I don’t even have to meet them face to face. Business by e-mail works best for me. My customers don’t care if I work at midnight as long as the work gets done!

Painting al fresco

Painting al fresco

Right now my other creative pursuits are limited to a few paintings that I sell in my Etsy shop. I don’t have any up right now because they sell pretty quick. Someday I’d like to do a children’s book and perhaps some games (like a matching game for toddlers). I’d also like to do a second version of my alphabet cards. What I’m really working on though is getting my website up and running again. I had to take most of my pages down a while back when I had an illustration theft scare and it’s taken me quite a while to even think about getting them back up. I also have quite a few side websites swirling around in my head that need to be created.

CC: Your blog is something of a phenomenon. What got you started?
BP:
I wrote about this on my Who is Secret Agent Josephine Anyway? page. But really all I want to say is that I started the site on a whim. I wanted to write about my personal life somewhere that was electronic and easy to use. Blogging fit that need perfectly and I have never looked back. I never realized it would become what it is now.

CC: Where do you do your creative work?

Brenda's office

Brenda at work

BP: Ha! I work in a box. Seriously. I have issues because I do not have my own space in my house. My husband promises me that I will have a studio someday when we buy a house…where I can paint and make big messes but right now I do not have that. I had to put my laptop (where I do most of my work) in a box in order to keep out the glare from the bright windows in our living room. What happened was really strange. I found that having my own space, no matter how small it was, gave me tremendous creative freedom. I feel more motivated to work when I am in my box. I love my box. As Virginia Wolfe says, “a woman must have money and a room of her own…” Mine just happens to be really really small.

CC: Do you have a schedule for your creative work?

BB

Baby Bug

BP: I get two hours every day to do “me” stuff. These two hours are basically my daughter’s nap time so they are not always predictable. But life is what it is and I make the best of it. Most of that time I spend trying to get work done because I’m always behind. But sometimes I do what I want because I’m the boss of me and I can. I also try to do fun crafts with my daughter (when she is awake of course!). Firstly because it’s a great way to burn hours when I don’t know what else to do besides the endless housework and picking up after a toddler and secondly because it is fun for both of us. I really want her to grow up to enjoy being creative as much as I do.

CC: What do you struggle with most?
BP:
Balancing. Every time I think I have it all figured out and I have a routine that works and keeps everyone happy, something changes and I have to start over again. Those first few days of a change (like two naps a day turning into one because my daughter is growing up) are terrible and I whine and complain like nobody’s business. But then I learn to adapt and things get better. I think the hardest part for me is realizing that this is all a cycle and I have to roll with it. I need to remember that I’ve been through it before and what didn’t kill me made me stronger. Being a mom of a small child is only a short amount of time when you look at the big picture. I have to make sacrifices. I can’t do everything I want to do. But I know there will be years in the future (I plan on living to 102) when I will have more time. I’ll only have this time with my daughter once. So I have to do a good job for her sake.

Desk

Desk (note slippers & Hello Kitty mousepad)

CC: How much does guilt factor in your life?
BP:
Hahahaha. What kind of question is that? Guilt. Well, after the screaming monkey that is my child is asleep, I often feel guilty that I got so cross at her when she was awake. I think feeling that guilt makes me try harder to be a better mother the next day. I think that is why God made children so adorably cute, so we wouldn’t kill them when they are being horrid.

CC: How has motherhood changed you creatively?
BP:
This is a good question. I think Keri Smith answered it best. The only thing that I can really say on this subject is that while my child has greatly hindered my productivity she has also quadrupled my inspiration. So it works out. She is my muse. She is my inspiration. I wouldn’t have half the ideas I have now if I didn’t have her around. I wanted a daughter very badly for a very long time. I felt like a part of me was missing. That sadness hindered me. So now she hinders me in the flesh but I would rather put up with that any day.

Inspiration board

Inspiration board (click for larger image)

CC: Where do you find inspiration?
BP:
Wow. I keep answering these questions before I get to them. My daughter inspires me. Her great big eyes make themselves onto a lot of my illustrations. I’m also inspired by the books she reads and the cartoons she watches. There are so many amazing children’s illustrators out there that I never knew about before. I never feel hard up for inspiration. If I do feel a little sluggish, I just drink a cup of coffee and I’m buzzing again.

CC: What are your top 5 favorite blogs—the ones you read every day?
BP:
I hate this question because I don’t really have a top five. First I read my friends and family and then I read about five other random sites but they change from time to time. Here are my top random five of today:

Cookies

You know you want some, baked or not

CC: What is your greatest indulgence?
BP:
Making cookies and eating about a third of the dough. It always makes me sick and then I hate myself for days afterwards but I still do it.

CC: What are you reading right now?
BP:
Hardly anything. I have a stack of books on my shelf to read but I am not reading them. The last really great book I read was Beautiful Boy by David Sheff. This was a good book for me but mostly because I have an addict in my extended family and I was struggling to make sense of it all. This book was an amazing comfort for me.

CC: What advice would you offer to other mothers struggling to be more creative?
BP:
My best advice to others is to do what you love. Don’t beat yourself up because you aren’t doing what you think you should be doing. You can only do so much and what you really enjoy doing will rise to the top. Pick one or two things and do them well. Then give yourself a break about the rest.

CC: Thanks, Brenda — er, Secret Agent Josephine. (Brenda is on blog haitus until September 15, so check back soon!)

Cathy: Prior complaints

love me

Love me, love my mess! And Jen Johnson's Baby Friendly Beads, too! Know how I'm always saying paper org on the Monday Page? Check out the box behind me.

After my prior complaints of not feeling like I am writing enough and my excuses-disguised-as-reasons blogs, I took a couple of pages from Christa Miller’s comments and Suzanne Kamata’s Breakfast interview. I squeezed in a little writing in my novel this week. Granted, it was a little, and I hope a little more today. Baby C was post-nursing soundly sleeping on my lap, and my back was achingly curved toward the keyboard, but I wrote. Exactly as I am doing now.

When Suzanne mentioned that her most creatively productive time of her life came after she had her twins who came bundled up with lots besides being twins, I realized I had to get moving. When Christa said:

I think it’s very limiting to say one “can’t” write a novel in stolen minutes outside tap class. Every time someone says I “can’t” I say, “Oh yeah??” OK, so maybe you can’t WRITE A NOVEL that way… but you can draft scenes. You can outline. You can brainstorm characters. All of it counts.

I drank from her dare-me spirit. Somewhere this week I began to feel if I don’t write now, when will I? Baby C will be graduating from high school when I’m 60 years old. Do I start taking myself seriously about the writing and publishing then? Will I even be around that long? I’ve learned to live in the now so much, especially because of and from aspie S, that I put off an entire lifetime of predictions and goals or the working toward them until I have “me” time. Well, guess what. My boys have been out of town for over three weeks, and what have I done? Not nearly what I thought. The time slipped away from me with so much openness about it. I’m such a procrastinating dreamer. Well if I think about it, isn’t that writing, too?

So I hunkered down. I remembered a movie I love in which Stanley Tucci’s character befriends a ‘great writer’ played by Ian Holm. It’s called Joe Gould’s Secret. If you haven’t seen the movie, my apologies but here’s the spoiler: his secret was he never wrote the book he talked about for years, decades. He died incomplete.

I don’t want to die incomplete. I want to finish this youth novel. I want to finish other projects: a couple of screenplays, another novel, organize a lifetime of poems into submissions and slim volumes. I don’t want all to be said of me at my funeral is that I was a devoted mother. Oh, I want that, too, but I have so much more to say now and I don’t want to take my time for granted anymore. Ok, it’s time to get back to the book. Please, Baby C, stay asleep just a little while longer.

8/13 Weekly creativity contest winner & new prompt

You guys always come through! A bunch of goodies arrived for the creativity contest prompt “circles.” Our winner is newcomer Carmen Torbus, who sent in two gorgeous paintings, both acrylic and mixed media. (The first is entitled “Thy Will Be Done” and the second is “August.” Visit Carmen’s blog here.) I just love the icon-like design quality, don’t you? Congratulations, Carmen — your $10 amazon.com gift certificate will arrive momentarily. Welcome to Creative Construction!


 

From Juliet Bell: “I had several ideas for the ‘Circles’ competition but none came to the fore until I fell asleep and dreamed I was having tea with a friend in her shop. On the wall behind my friend was a beautiful china platter, round, with a soft pattern of mixed blue circles and leaves suggesting grapes. The platter hung on a wall papered with a complimentary blue grape design. My dog barked, awaking me with this image sharp in my mind’s eye. This watercolor design (4” x 4”) is based on my dream. I love it when my dreams send me ideas.” (Juliet’s Etsy shop here.)

 

From Sam Hirst: “Here is a card I made using branches from a birch tree that had to be taken out of my yard. I cut the branches and block printed the card using them.” (I love the use of found materials! Sam’s blog and Etsy shop.)

 

From Cathy Coley, a poem. Cathy writes: “The idea is better than the poem, but it’s a start.” (I think it’s all good, Cathy!)

Circles
Going in circles
I re-read old books,
some six, seven times.
I walk with the ghosts
of what I know they’ll do
before they do. Walker’s
Zede relives her past not just once.
Lissie relives every past
over and over since the dawn of time.
We go back again together
to live in the trees.
My dreams breeze fill
with blue green peacock
and red parrot feathers,
three stones in dirt.
Just last week,
gods of every continent.
I don’t usually need help.
I walk hand in hand with goddesses,
elements, even by day.
Gaiman just choreographs them
better than I would dare.
I follow them while he directs.
I read my dreams and thank
all gods Elegba, Odin, Bast, and Balthazar
for the circles of life, the spirals of centuries,
and these authors for
reading my dreams
and writing them down.
 

From Lisa Worthington-Brown, last week’s winner, a bounty of circle paintings! Lisa writes: “Painting circles is relaxing for me, so I find that I have a lot of recent work with circles. Here are a few.” (The first image is a detail from a larger-than-life self-portrait.)

 

From me (Miranda), the usual pair! I took this photo on Sunday at Garden in the Woods in Framingham, Mass. I have to admit I didn’t realize I had snagged a shot for the “circles” prompt until later that evening when I was reviewing my photos. I smacked my head, V-8 style, and said, “Circles!”

Garden in the Woods
The pond is brimming
with turtles and dragonflies,
life in gloss and green

 

This week’s prompt: “Chocolate”

Use the prompt however you like — literally; just a suggestion of color; or a tengential theme. All media are welcome. Please e-mail your entries to creativereality@live.com by 8:00 p.m. on Tuesday, August 19. 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.