Tag Archives: creativity

As the  berries on  my Olympic Flame rowan tree signal that autumn is approaching, I find myself looking back on what has been a wonderfully creative summer.

As an adult education tutor - I teach creative writing for adults for Norfolk County Council - I'm lucky enough to have a full two months off to do as I like. In the past, when my son was younger, summer days were filled with trips to the park, the beach and the many tourist attractions of Norfolk, where we live. But now he's sixteen and although he is happy to be seen with me in public - yay! - naturally he doesn't want to do all those things any longer. It's a first step towards him moving on his life and I admit that does give me a pang! But it also gives me lots of time to use as I want to, and this summer I've really made the most of it. Apart from one family holiday in Anglesey, Wales - during the mercifully one really warm week of the UK summer - I have been creating.

Two thirds of the way up Mount Snowden, Wales

So, what have I been up to? Well, I've been writing about Christmas! Yes, Christmas trees, Christmas crackers, lights, snowmen, food, family rows - the lot! And much to my surprise - since I'm a bit of a bah humbug Christmas phobic - I've really enjoyed it! Maybe it was good therapy to put my characters through all that stuff? Although it wasn't all doom and gloom. I did find plenty of magic to include. Maybe it'll rub off on me and I'll find my Christmas mojo all over again?

Actually, it's been the writing process that has been magical, because this book almost wrote itself. Obviously I have some changes to make, but it came out so easily. That could be because I've used quite a lot on my own personal experience and memories, drawing on material I've stored away for years - a patchwork of different events that have somehow found a way to transform and click together. There's nothing like being in that place where everything comes easily and your characters speak to you inside your head. When you're doing something mundane and pieces of the puzzle of your novel are handed to you from nowhere.

But writing hasn't been my only creative pursuit this year. I've been painting and creating collages too - using the studio I had built after my mum died three years or so ago. I have used it before this summer, but not as much as I'd expected to. I felt kind of...stuck with my art. For those of you who don't know, I first started writing after I finished my painting degree in Brighton and was left wondering what next? I thought, I know, I'll write a best-selling romance to earn the money to carry on painting. Hmm...well, I was young, so I was allowed to be naive! What I basically did was swap one unpredictable way of making a living for another. Ha ha. But anyway, I got the writing bug, and I haven't looked back since. My art went on the back burner, but I always knew I'd want to go back to it. And this summer I have. As a result, I've felt really close to my mum too, thinking about how pleased she would be about it.

I've always been a fan of still life - I love to collect vases and jugs and have many from my grandmother. So, when I was looking around for a course to get me back into my art, it was an easy decision to choose Brave in Paint, Experimental Still Life run by Gabriella Buckingham. What a great course it was! Filled with Gabriella's enthusiasm and lively definitions and challenges. It was exactly what I wanted, and my creativity thrived. It's so easy to be held back by that nagging voice that asks you things like, Why are you doing this? What's it going to lead to? You really ought to be...(insert what here). What makes you think you'll do anything good anyway? Aaargh!

These are some of the voices my creative writing students have to contend with, and I empathize with them, I really do. It's taken a long time, but I mainly manage to be able to ignore the voices now when it comes to writing. I love writing far too much to be bullied out of doing it. Hopefully, I'll be able to be the same whenever I get the urge to paint or make a collage from now on.

Here's an example of one of the paintings - an oil sketch inspired by the above arrangement - I completed this summer. If you're interested, there are more to be found on the Margaret's Art work tab.

Still Life With Green Coffee Pot

Happy autumn, everyone!

 

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Sometimes my writing flows smoothly, like a stream along well-worn channels, curving around obstacles, intent on its course.

Sometimes my writing flows smoothly, like a stream along well-worn channels, curving around obstacles, intent on its course.

 

At other times, my ideas are like ants in a disturbed ants' nest, scattering in a hundred different directions.

Sometimes my ideas are like ants in a disturbed next, scattering in a hundred different directions.

 

Sometimes my images come out almost as a list on the page:

  • a glint of a gold tooth

  • the rhythmic rocking of the boat

  • red and gold fabrics, gleaming in the midday sunshine

ecuador-1257123_640

 

I take what I get, and use it any way I can, pushing aside thoughts of

should be

should do

the right way

the wrong way

 

There is only what there is, and it helps me to remember that:

Streams flow to the sea.

Every ant has a designated role in the colony.

Lists help you to remember.

This past week has been a disrupted one for me. It can be difficult enough to deal with self-inflicted disruptions to our writing - a tendency to get distracted by social media, or to put our own dreams and priorities last.

But sometimes Life just happens. A two-day headache that divorces you from your imagination. A phone call from the school asking you to collect your poorly son.

That's why I've learnt to take writing - especially the writing I do for a first draft - as it comes, whether it's in the form of streams, scattered ants or lists. However it comes, it  accumulates and gets stuffed together. After a while it coagulates and becomes part of something bigger.

A book, with a life and an identity of its own.

narrative-794978_640

 

How wonderful!

Until next time,

Margaret

 

On Saturday, I took my son to London for the day, and after a hectic trip to the Natural History Museum to see dinosaur skeletons and to experience earth tremors, I parked him on a bench inside the Tate Modern.

While he happily played Jetpack Challenge on his phone, I toured the exhibition galleries with a good friend and absorbed myself in the paintings of the American artist Georgia O'Keefe.

Georgia flowers

 

Georgia (1897 -1986) painted sensuous mountains and flowers, using glowing colours and languid rhythms to show their essence and spirituality. She was passionate about her subjects, but also revealed the core of herself as she painted them.

Georgia 2

At times, Georgia seems super-human, living as she did until the age of ninety-eight, dedicating herself to producing pioneering art, her career spanning seven decades. And yet, this straight-talking woman of strong opinions and an even stronger work ethic, longed to have a child with her lover then husband Alfred Stieglitz.

Alfred_Stieglitz

 

Twenty-four years older than Georgia, Stieglitz's favourite sister had died in childbirth. He also felt too old to become a father again. (Stieglitz had a daughter, Kitty, from a previous marriage). But chiefly, he felt that Georgia's fierce focus on her art would be diluted if she had someone else to think about.

I believe he was right here - although this doesn't necessarily mean he had the right to deny his wife one of the most fulfilling experiences there is in life. Georgia, who craved solitude, and who was at her happiest battling the elements in the deserts of New Mexico in order to paint its mountains, would certainly have had to employ someone to look after any children while she was thus engaged.

 

Georgia mountains

 

But, as any mother will know, whether they were taken care of or not, it's highly likely there would always have been a part of Georgia's brain reserved for her children.  Having experienced that overpowering need to have a child myself (happily resulting in my son, Alfie, now eleven-years-old) I can understand how the urge to become a mother takes you over and controls every aspect of your life. Georgia O'Keefe's paintings are filled with emotion, and I've no doubt that her childlessness is built into their fabric, as must be the affair Steiglitz had with another younger woman for many years, and his ultimate death in 1946.

Georgia never had to fit in her passionate work between the equivalents of visits to the park, requests to use the pc to record YouTube videos or trips to Accident and Emergency after stunt scooter accidents, and she has an impressive body of work to show for it.

georgia-okeefe-396966_640

And yet, if we are mothers and we also want to write, paint, or to create in any way, then it's possible - and necessary both to ourselves and those around us - to find a piece of the creative world Georgia had in order for us to be fully ourselves.

So, I'm spending the summer compartmentalising my life, making bargains and compromises with my son. Unashamedly using YouTube and X-Box as baby sitters to give myself time for Gorgia O'Keefe focus. As my son is extremely passionate about watching YouTube and playing on his X-Box, I'm certain I could get away with leaving him to do this all day, allowing me to work without restraint to tackle my own personal New Mexico mountains.

okeeffe_black_mesa1

But I wouldn't do it.

There are crabs to be caught. Waves to be surfed. Trees to be climbed. Adopted Shetland ponies to be adored.

alfie and baby face

In a few short years, my son won't need me nearly so much, and then I'll no doubt have more Georgia O'Keefe space and spirituality than I can handle.

So for now, I'll willingly juggle my life to embrace them both.

Happy summer!

Margaret