This is a photo from 2007 when people still smoked at The Compound, but damn if I know who smoked Marlboro Lights (ETA: Steve C). I’m using it to show that I’m in a creative mood.
I have a friend Sharon (I know her in real life, not only online) who in addition to being a dog rescuer/foster/adopter and an all-round great human, also collects tiny Blythe dolls. She stages them in engaging photo shoots with clothes and accessories she’s made herself, in dioramas she decorates with all matter of things she makes or buys. She’s one of my most fun Instagram follows at this account, if you’d like to see her creative dolls and animals and objects on such a tiny scale that I’m in awe.
I’ve sewn for dolls at 1:6 scale for years, and right now, I want to sew clothes for the child dolls who are part of my Neverending Saga families. They’re so small that I’m not sure I’m up to the challenge or the amount of time it may take when I have so much writing to do. However, I also do creative things like coloring or painting when I want to think about what I’m writing, so maybe sewing clothes for these little ones will help inspire me to write the lives of their parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles.
I’ve never believed there are people who have no creative urge. Even busy people or people whose circumstances don’t lend themselves to creating have that spark. But they are afraid or think they have no talent or have been conditioned to believe that art is only as worthy as its utility (e.g., do other people like it? does anyone want to read/see/hear/taste/enjoy it? does it make money?).
What if creating is for YOU ONLY? What if it makes you feel happy for a while? What if it nourishes you in any way at all? Is that not enough? Seriously, are you not enough?
I think you are.
This is a conversation I have with myself often, because I can access a lifetime of negative and hurtful comments about my creative endeavors. It’s just something I have to shut down. One way I know I was fortunate is that I was ALWAYS encouraged to be creative, by my parents, a few teachers, some friends, and my wonderful Uncle Gerald. If you were never encouraged that way, IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO CREATE. What is that thing you wish for? That secret yearning to learn an instrument, sketch something you love in nature, write a poem, learn to needlepoint, carve a piece of wood, master a culinary creation… It’s time to start and it’s MORE than okay to do it only for you, only for your own enjoyment, and if anyone else likes/loves/appreciates/praises it, that’s a bonus.
The Beach Boys began because two young brothers liked to sing together and they made their more boisterous brother join in because they wanted his voice for their harmonies. They had a father who was a frustrated songwriter and a mother who came from a musical family. When they formed a band and came up with a sound, success came early. Maybe too early for their own good, considering their losses, challenges, and tragedies. But those three brothers, including the one who had to be dragged along, had creativity that couldn’t be denied. What began so simply became a gift to the world. Even if they aren’t a band to your taste, millions of people still love their music, still follow their careers, still marvel at them, still consider their story with joy and heartache.
It all began with a working class family of five who loved music.
September 20 — With family © unknown
Back row: Brian with parents Audree and Murry
Front row: Carl and Dennis
If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, then I am scuppered! I have been thinking to myself that I want to be more creative for a long, long time. Maybe now that I have lost my directing cherry, that will be the push I need? I just need to start learning my lines for the pantomime next…
How much time per day, on average, would you say you write? Or does it vary wildly?
It varies wildly for sure! I will go days adding a few lines, maybe a paragraph or two, to a chapter. Then because I never stop thinking about it, I’ll suddenly get a flash of insight and write for twelve hours.
Tim and I sometimes used to write from noon until two in the morning. And the times we got a little giddy and cracked each other up, we used it for scenes in the TJB books. When we’d get funny stuff from Jim and Timmy, we’d be thrilled. But tandem writing can be even slower than writing solo, because three other people were also waiting for a bit of inspiration. Sometimes the inspiration might have been me shrieking, “JUST SEND the effing thing, already.”