I accidentally imported a bunch of photos the other day when I was trying to move something from my old PC files to the iMac. A few of the pictures made me think of “process” and reminded me of how much help I get in putting a plan into action. For example, this photo:
reminds me of when I told Lynne, “I have a plan to promote my book that requires a Barbie.” And even though I had bins of dolls in my attic, I happened to be at her house, so she went doll shopping with me. This is how I purchased my first Top Model Barbie (and what a chain of events that set off). Then I showed the doll to Tom and said, “But I need her in a wedding dress.” So he went with me to Toys ‘R Us, and that’s where we got her couture.
Then I set up the shot, and Tom lent a hand to keep my groom steady.
Then I said I needed some background I could clone.
Then I cloned it.
But it felt too dark.
So here’s the final shot.
I’m so not a professional photographer, and a lot of times, I’m just trying to have fun with my cameras. I’m very fortunate to have many like-minded accomplices.
Accomplices…
Here’s a paragraph from The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron:
Remember that art is process. The process is supposed to be fun. For our purposes, “the journey is always the only arrival” may be interpreted to mean that our creative work is actually our creativity at play in the field of time. At the heart of this play is the mystery of joy.
I think “joy” is one of the most beautiful words in the English language. I can remember a time in my life when I thought I’d never feel it again. Then I realized that joy isn’t a condition that’s given to us; it’s a feeling that we give to ourselves. Joy is a choice. Hard work won’t get me to joy. Play, fun, whimsy, enJOYment of other people’s creative gifts (including the planet’s gifts): Those are my journeys to joy. And in turn, joy gives me the energy and stamina to do hard work.
My life has been full of people who contribute to my creative process. There have also been plenty of people who were willing to whittle away at my self-confidence. Who could discourage me with a well-aimed barb. Sometimes that stems from their own misery. Sometimes it’s even well-intentioned, a desire that I not set myself up for disappointment. But why? Disappointment is part of my process, too. I don’t have to experience everything a character goes through to write her/him, but the greater my range of emotions, the better chance I have of writing people who become real for me.
Whether you’ve helped me play, held my hand when I cried, broken my heart, listened to my ideas, given me honest reactions to my work, read my work, bought my work, hugged me when I felt lost, laughed with me when I felt silly, annoyed the crap out of me, fought with me, loved me, commented on this blog, said hi on the Internet, called me, written me, thanks. You’re part of my joy.