Creative Flow

I’ve been in a creative flow lately. Maybe it’s the energy of spring, or going 45 days with no alcohol (even one glass of wine seems to leave me feeling foggy these days), or maybe it’s just the ebb and flow of creative energy.

I’ve been practicing my ukulele, putting together interesting meals, creating and editing videos, writing Haiku, and writing a variety of longer pieces -maybe a book? I was also just handed a book with the invitation to make it into an art journal - cue needle scratching across a vinyl album sound.

What?

Everyone knows not to deface a published book, right? This feels like blasphemy. 

But I’m in a phase of stretching my creative skin so I’m going to try it…even though I’m aware of the risk of getting my knuckles wrapped on by “the teacher/outer authority” that’s seared into my subconscious.

I have to read the book first, of course. The Dutch House by Ann Patchett. Her name has been popping up and I’ve yet to read any of her work so here’s my chance…before I render her words unreadable by my kindergarten “art.”

I feel uncomfortable. Awkward. Naughty. I’m for sure going to end up sitting out in the hall…again.

But I’m going for it.

That’s it. Nothing else to report right now. No finished piece of writing to share in the form of a blog or formal post. “Consistent” doesn’t mean conveyor belt. I’m committed to the creation of meaningful content, but I’m letting myself off the hook from any kind of prescribed schedule.

Let’s see what happens.

I’m letting myself off the hook from a lot of self-imposed expectations. Call it an early retirement if you will. I’m retired of trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing and giving space for a playful spirit and child-like wonder to start poking through the crusty cover, like the rhubarb in my backyard right now. It’s coming up like a Black Power fist out of the ground. 

That’s the insight. Art is power. Creativity is power. Nature is power. And we’ve got to reclaim our power - from the inside out.