Working with the Spirit

Not long ago I started losing confidence in my writing again. This is a phase I go through on a regular basis. I’ve gotten used to it over the years. I will go through several months of regular and consistent writing and then fall into a funk where I start to think that I’m no good and that I’m wasting my time. It’s happened enough times that I don’t usually worry too much. I know I just have to wait it out. It always goes away with a little time. Sometimes I have the mental fortitude to write my way through the funk and sometimes I don’t. Either way, I end up writing again.

However, this time was different. It felt more serious; a practical decision rather than just a slump. I have so many diverse interests from writing and art, to climbing, skiing, trail running, and much more; far more than I could ever have time to do. I believe very strongly in being a husband and father and fulfilling my church calling before anything else, so my other interests have to compete for the little bit of time left over. I found myself thinking seriously about giving up writing. If it wasn’t going anywhere, then why bother? Why not devote the time to something else?

Then I went to the newly re-opened Ogden L.D.S. temple for the first time. While there, I felt inspired to keep writing. (For anyone reading that might not be L.D.S., we Mormons go to our temples to make sacred promises to God. It’s also a fantastic place to receive personal revelation from God because you can feel the spirit so strongly there. You can receive personal revelation anywhere, of course, whether you’re a Mormon or not, but the peace and quiet of the temple makes it easier to feel and recognize it when it comes.) Anyway, I left the temple thinking that if God wanted me to keep writing, then I sure better keep writing. But then the doubt sets in: Was it just wishful thinking? Did I only feel that way because I wanted it to be true?

The Ogden, Utah L.D.S. temple: The perfect place to be inspired!

Thankfully, God is very patient with my thick-headedness. Only a day or two later, I read some scriptures in the Book of Mormon that erased all doubt. (Again, for non L.D.S. readers, the Book of Mormon is a book of scripture similar to the Bible. It also testifies of Christ and is a perfect companion to the Bible. Even if you’ve never read it, as long as you’re interested in the spiritual side of creativity, just bear with me and I think you’ll find this valuable). The scriptures are found in Ether 12: 23-35. In this part of the Book of Mormon, the prophet Moroni worries that the gentiles will mock his writing because of his “weakness in writing”, but the Lord reassures him saying, “I give unto men weakness that they may be humble” and “I will make weak things become strong unto them.” Moroni is comforted because he knows that the Lord “workest unto the children of men according to their faith.” Moroni thinks about several miracles that were brought about by faith like the brother of Jared moving an entire mountain. If faith can move a mountain then, with a little faith, the Lord will help Moroni with his writing. Lastly, in verse 35, Moroni writes, “…that if the Gentiles have not charity, because of our weakness, that thou wilt prove them, and take away their talent, yea, even that which they have received, and give unto them who shall have more abundantly.”

These scriptures were a clear answer to my prayers. Here’s what they boil down to:

• Be humble: All our talents come from God. Recognize that he gave us our talent and he can take it away. (“I give unto men weakness that they may be humble”). Be sincerely grateful for what we have and the Lord "will make weak things become strong unto [us]." 
• Be faithful: If God can do so many amazing miracles, he can certainly help us with our little creative projects. We must get to work and have faith that he will help us in all of our righteous endeavors. The Lord “workest unto the children of men according to their faith.”
• Be charitable: Use the talent and success that we have been given to serve others or risk losing that talent and success. “…if [we] have not charity" the Lord will "take away [our] talent, yea, even that which [we] have received, and give unto them who shall have more abundantly.”

These scriptures have fundamentally changed the way I work. I feel that the quality of my work has gotten better and better as I’ve tried to practice what I learned from Moroni. Below is a description of how my daily process of writing now works since reading these scriptures. Hopefully, there will be something here that you can use in your own process:

1. I go to work very early in the morning. I’m careful not to listen to any of the typical garbage that’s on the radio as I drive. I find this to be highly distracting and not at all conducive to creative work. I try to listen to KLOVE (the contemporary Christian music station), classical, gospel, or, ideally, nothing at all. If the music doesn't invite the Holy Spirit, the one I rely on for inspiration in my work, then why in the world would I listen to it? Certainly, I can’t expect the help from the Lord if I’m listening to music that isn't uplifting. 
2. I get to work long before I have to be there so that I can have a quiet place to write where I won’t be interrupted. I always start with prayer. I thank God for what talent I have been given and for all his recent help with my projects. I try to be specific and sincere. Then I pray for his help in the work at hand. I ask that, first and foremost, I will not write anything that might offend Him. Then I ask that my work will be enlightening, entertaining, and uplifting to any who might read it. If there is something in particular that I have been struggling with, then I “discuss” the problem with him. It feels a little strange at first, but I have found many solutions to plot lines and character development by discussing the specifics in prayer with my Heavenly Father. 
3. Then, before I write anything, I read from either the Bible or the Book of Mormon. I typically do this for 10-30 minutes. I find that it puts my mind in the right place. Only after this do I start writing.
4. I usually write on the computer, but I will occasionally work in my journal or on scratch paper if really I’m stuck and need to brain storm. Some days it’s hard work and other days it flows so well the hours pass in what feels like only minutes. 
5. When 7:30am arrives I quit writing immediately. This is especially hard if the writing is going well, but I’m very careful not to work on my personal writing while I’m “on the clock” at work. I think this is dishonest and, if I’m being dishonest, I can hardly expect to have the Lord’s help in my writing.
6. I finish with a prayer of gratitude.

That’s how I do all of my “serious work” which, right now, means my current novel. Sometimes it might be an art project, poem, short story, or even a fairy tale. I want to point out that I'm not talking about work that is overtly spiritual in nature. The novel I'm working on is young adult fiction. It's about a very short teenage boy that falls in love with a very tall teenage girl. It's meant to be funny and entertaining more than anything else. I now use this system no matter what I'm working on.

Try putting my system to the test for your serious work and discover for yourself if it works. I can promise you, as long as we are humble, faithful, and charitable with our creative work, the Lord will continue to bless us with an increase in talent and success.

Spiraling Into Control

A photo I took of Robert Smithson's "Spiral Jetty" during a lightening storm.

One of my favorite works of art of all time has to be Robert Smithson's "Spiral Jetty". This earthwork sculpture consists of a 1,500' long, 15' wide dirt and rock spiral jutting out into the Great Salt Lake not far from where I live. The entire landscape is surreal, like it was formed out of a Salvador Dali painting.

A Salvador Dalí study for Alfred Hitchcock’s “Spellbound”

I have visited the site countless times. I have walked all over it and the surrounding area, camped there, photographed it, experienced it at all times of day and night (sunrise and sunset are the best), all times of year, and once in a lighting storm that was nothing short of epic. Yet, somehow, the Spiral Jetty never loses its magic.

One reason it never loses its ability to seduce, inspire, and entrance, is that it seems to have a charismatic soul of its own. I think it embodies the kind of art Kandinsky's quote was referring to in my last post: Art that "acquires an autonomous life, becomes a personality, an independent subject, animated with a spiritual breath, the living subject of a real existence of being." Robert Smithson was at the center of its inception; it grew in his mind like a baby in utero, he must have felt it quicken in his sketchbooks, and then it was finally born out of the earth itself.

A page from Robert Smithson's sketchbook.

Photo: David Robb

Once formed,  the Spiral Jetty continued to take on an identity and personality of its own. It dove beneath the waves of the Great Salt Lake for thirty years, crystallized itself in salt, then was reborn brilliant white and beautiful in a way that Smithson probably never imagined. It continues to grow and change with the seasons, the lake levels, the color/amount of the algae in the water, and even its interactions with people.

Photo: David Robb

For a long time I had a hard time letting the writing/artwork tell me what it wanted to be. I wanted to control it, plan everything, make sure the reader/viewer thought and experienced exactly what I wanted. It's as ridiculous as trying to pre-plan exactly how your child will look and behave and how their whole life will play out before they are even born. This is all nonsense, of course. I realized it one day after months of trying to write a short story that took place at the Spiral Jetty. The story kept trying to grow into a novel. It felt like my whole plot was spiraling out of control and I kept telling it, "No way! I can't write a novel. That's crazy. You're going to be a short story and that's final!" After months of fighting, I finally admitted defeat and the short story became a novel. When I realized it was a novel, everything fell into place. It was never spiraling out of control, it was slowly curving into it's center where it had been trying to lead me all along.

A page from my journal.

Birthing a Journal

The broken binding and pages falling out of my poor journal.

 I finally admitted to myself that I needed to retire my current journal. It's always a sad day to me when I have to do this. My journals go everywhere with me and I get very attached. The more they fill up with notes, sketches, thoughts, collages, poems, stories, quotes, and other randomness, the more they take on a personality of their own. Each of my journals has it's own character and identity even as it reflects parts of me. It's like looking at one of my kids and seeing many of my qualities in them: my build, same tendency to climb everything in sight, my love of literature, but then they are also their own completely separate and unique being as well. Artist Wassily Kandinsky said:

"The true work of art is born from the artist: 

a mysterious, enigmatic, and mystical creation. 

It detaches itself from him, it acquires an autonomous life, 

becomes a personality, an independent subject, 

animated with a spiritual breath, 

the living subject of a real existence of being."

I'm certainly not trying to claim that my simple little journals are anything quite like the "true work of art" that Kandinsky is talking about, but I do feel like they give me a taste of what he is referring to. I've had it happen with a few of the stories that I've written. When the writing is at its very best, I feel like I'm just there to deliver something already alive, that wants desperately to be born, with as little damage as possible.

I suppose it should't be that hard for me to let this journal go. It's not like retirement means the journal just goes in a dusty box somewhere in the attic. I still refer back to my journals often when I need something I put in one. I keep them nearby and we stay acquainted like when a kid grows up and moves out, but still calls and comes back for birthdays and holidays.

This is what happens when you leave your journal on the dashboard of a hot car.

So now I have the new one. It's always a little scary looking at all those blank pages: What will I fill them with? Will there be anything any good? Will it get lost or damaged? Will the stupid binding hold up for once? What if I don't end up liking the size, shape, and weight of the paper? So many nervous questions. But at the same time, it's exciting. All the possibilities! All the potential! Who knows what amazing thing this new journal might grow up to become! What a beautiful word: Potential. That unknowable capacity in each writing project, work of art, or human being that gives us hope.

The new guy. We're still in the getting to know each other phase.

Stumbling Upon Stars

A photo by the spectacular travel photographer Anton Jankovoy

“He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast, 

explained to him the variations of the compass, 

and taught him to read in that vast book
opened over our heads which they call heaven, 

and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds.” 

― Alexandre Dumas in "The Count of Monte Cristo"

Not long ago I attended a workshop by Dr. Jeffrey Wilhelm. The workshop was designed to help teachers learn to teach reading more effectively. The man is a genius and I learned a ton of useful information for the classroom, but that's not what this post is about. Dr. Wilhelm told a story about teaching a workshop at some kind of a young adult literature conference. In it, he talked about all the beautiful symbolism in the final chapter of the powerful book "Number the Stars" by Lois Lowery. He said that after teaching the class, he was approached by a women who turned out to be Lois Lowery. Lois Lowery said something to the effect of, "Wow, I'm a lot smarter that I thought I was." In other words, she did not intentionally put in all the symbols that Dr. Wilhelm claimed were there. Then she added, "But it all fits perfectly!"

I have found that this phenomenon is not all that uncommon. I've even experienced it in my own writing. I will be typing along and I decide to add certain details that simply feel right. I have no idea why. They are not even remotely a well thought out, logical choice. Then, later on, I'll see all these beautiful connections like dim little stars that I thought stood alone, forming into complex constellations. These "unintentional" details have a way of adding up to a system of symbols that unifies the text and enhances the theme. It's truly exciting when it happens. Almost magical. Blaise Pascal said, "The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing." The point here is that we have to listen for those quiet little instincts that seem to form in our hearts instead of our minds; don't question them, trust them, have faith. So often they turn out to be the faintest touch of the Creator's hand in our work.

More Places for Poems to Hide

I wrote another poem about where poems hide. This time I did it in an even more annoying way that isn't even remotely visually appealing. Sorry, but it's more fun to write that way, so you'll really have to earn it if you want to read it.

Just like the one I posted on Dec. 6th, this poem was inspired by "Valentine for Ernest Mann" by Naomi Shihab Nye. Another of my favorite poems by her is "Making a Fist". I think it illustrates beautifully how inspiration can hide in the most unexpected of places. In this case, from a comment her mother made when she was only seven.

Making a Fist

Naomi Shihab Nye, 1952

For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,

I felt the life sliding out of me,

a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.

I was seven, I lay in the car

watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.

My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.

“How do you know if you are going to die?”

I begged my mother. 

We had been traveling for days.

With strange confidence she answered,

“When you can no longer make a fist.”

Years later I smile to think of that journey,

the borders we must cross separately,

stamped with our unanswerable woes.

I who did not die, who am still living,

still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,

clenching and opening one small hand.

Author Neil Gaimen, said, "You get ideas from daydreaming. You get ideas from being bored. You get ideas all the time. The only difference between writers and other people is we notice when we're doing it." It's about paying attention when the ideas show up.

I love this picture of Naomi Nye. Doesn't she just look like she knows something we don't?

Let Your Light So Shine...

When I was in an art class in college, my professor would constantly make all of us students hang our work for the rest of the class to see. Many of the students, myself included, were very reluctant to do this. We lacked confidence in our talent and worried that we would be judged harshly by the other students. One day, when the professor asked us to put our latest assignment up on the wall, we started complaining. She was a level-headed teacher, so I was surprised when she became angry and said, "Why are you being so selfish?" We were caught off guard. What was she talking about? Someone said, "We're just shy about showing our work. How is that selfish?" With undisguised disgust she said, "If you've been given this talent and then are totally unwilling to share it with anyone, that's selfish. Keeping everything to yourself when you could be learning from and inspiring each other, that's selfish." We shut up and hung our work. No one ever complained again.

This experience was a paradigm shift for me. I'd never thought of my work like that before. Keeping my talents hidden away from anyone but a few select friends was my regular MO. It had never occurred to me that this was selfish. But it is! Joseph F. Smith, a former president of the LDS church, said, “Every son and every daughter of God has received some talent, and each will be held to strict account for the use or misuse to which it is put.” Certainly, being selfish with our talents constitutes misuse. God didn't give them to us to bury in the ground. He gave them to us to serve others.

We should strive to be as is described in Mathew 5: 14-16 "Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."

It can be terrifying to share our work, but we must share it anyway. We might worry that it looks like showing off or boasting, but we must share it anyway. We often think our work isn't good enough. So what? Share it anyway. To do anything less shows ingratitude to God who gave us our talents and selfishness to any who might have benefited from our work.

This is a sketch from my journal based off a Saharan rock carving. 

Collages, Theft, and Creativity at Play

One of my favorite ways to goof off in my journal is with collages. I like to just mentally checkout and have fun. There's no intention to create "real art" or even good art. There's no attempt at deep meanings (at least not intentional). It's just me stealing someone else's art and then making it my own. Pablo Picasso supposedly said, "Good artists copy, great artists steal." I'm certainly not a great artist, but I don't hesitate to steal like one when I want to have some fun.

This first one started with a painting from Carl Jung's haunting "Red Book". I printed it off and glued it into the center. I had been thinking a lot about the Brother's Grimm version of Cinderella and was intrigued with the white bird, so I used a combination of water color and pen and ink to draw in a background. 

“The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect 

but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. 

The creative mind plays with the objects it loves. ”

-Carl Jung 

This second one started with a photo of Georgia O'Keeffe, titled "Hands", by Alfred Stieglitz. I completely ruined what was an otherwise otherworldly photo. I cut it out and then debated what I wanted in the background. In an act of utter randomness, I chose to use the number Pi to the 1,000th digit in the background and pasted a portrait of Virginia Woolf  over the top. I used water colors and pen and ink for everything else. By the way, the water colors I use are just a cheap Crayola elementary school set. Like I said, I'm just playing here, not trying to make fine art.  

"Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. 

We haven't time, and to see takes time."

-Georgia O'Keeffe

This last one started out with a portrait of the poet Pablo Neruda. I chose van Gogh's "Starry Night Over the Rhone" as the background, used a highlighter that happened to be lying on my desk at the time to color his ear, and wrote in a bunch of made up binary code on his hand with pencil.

"A child who does not play is not a child, 

but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child 

who lived in him and who he will miss terribly." 

-Pablo Neruda

I posted these pages out of my journal just to show examples of creativity at play. Why did I choose the subjects I did? I don't know. Why did I draw and paint the stuff I did around and on them? I don't know. Ask a child why he/she is dancing around the room or building a sand castle. I doubt they know. It's nice to let go of having a reason why and just enjoy the act of creation. Why be such a control freak? I suggest you go grab some crayons and give yourself permission to create for no other reason than to lose yourself in the act.

Holy Bagumba!

What “Flora and Ulysses” Can Teach Us About Writing, Art, and Creativity.

I had the flu last week and it gave me a great opportunity to re-read one of my favorite books: the Newberry award winning “Flora and Ulysses” by Kate DiCamillo. If you haven’t read it, you need to stop reading this post immediately and go buy it. Ideally, it should be read aloud to your children no matter how old they are. If you don’t have any children, borrow the neighbors. It will be worth it. It’s that good. 

To summarize, it’s about a cynical little girl, Flora, who meets a superhero, squirrel named Ulysses. Together, they set out to fight the forces of evil (which consists mostly of a cantankerous cat, Flora’s romance novel writing mother, and a shepherdess lamp) and end up finding hope. It’s a beautifully written story full of the kind of lines you want to be able to cup in your hand and hold to your ear again and again. Like many of DiCamillo’s books, “Flora and Ulysses” is full of Christian symbolism for the reader who wants to delve a bit deeper. The goal of this post, however, is to explore what this book can teach us about writing, art, and creativity.

To start with, DiCamillo tells us a great way to come up with new ideas. Here’s a video of her explaining how she got the idea for this book:

Two things come together to form the seed of DiCamillo’s idea: a squirrel dying on her doorstep and her mother’s vacuum cleaner. This, in essence, is juxtaposition. That is, two things put together that really shouldn't be. Juxtaposition has the powerful ability to instantly force your mind to create a story. In DiCamillo’s case, she took the squirrel and had it sucked up by the “Ulysses 2000X” vacuum cleaner. Then, she needed a character to save the squirrel and Flora was born. The story just progressed from there.

I use juxtaposition as a warm up with my creative writing students all the time. Take any two things that just shouldn’t or couldn’t be together (a Twinkie on the moon, a gold fish in the middle of the Sahara, a bowling ball in a baby’s crib, etc…) and put them together and your mind begins trying to make sense of it. In short, you create a story. This works equally well with art, just look at these paintings by the surrealist artist Rene Magritte:

"Golconda" -Magritte

"The Empire of Lights" -Magritte

Juxtaposition causes us to create meaning where there was none before. We see things differently when they are out of context, we pay more attention to them. If I see a bloody knife at the butcher shop, it is completely unremarkable. If I find it under my pillow, I pay attention!

The second thing that we can learn from “Flora and Ulysses”, is that we need to let go of preconceived ideas about what is “true literature” or “real art”. In the book, Flora’s mother makes her sign a contract not to read anymore comic books. The contract says that Flora should “work to turn her face away from the idiotic high jinks of comics and toward the bright light of true literature.” I have often found myself inspired to draw or write something only to stop because I don’t think it fits the world’s definition of true literature or real art. What a load of beans! This is a sure fire way to squelch the fun and excitement of the creative process! Julia Cameron, in her book “TheArtist’s Way” says that the source of our creativity and our inner child are the same thing. Children like to play. Let your creativity play and don’t worry about whether it’s “real art” or not.

Later in the book, Flora gets in trouble for messing with her mother’s typewriter. Her mother says, “What goes on here is serious business…I am a professional writer. I am under a deadline for this novel. This is no time for high jinks. Plus, you ate a whole bag of cheese puffs.” I’m a firm believer that creativity requires both high jinks and cheese puffs. There is, undoubtedly, a time when you have to get serious. It’s called revision. Don’t get too serious too soon or you ruin all the fun. Creativity flourishes when it’s fun. If it inspires, it’s fun, and it involves the consumption of cheese puffs, pursue it!

The third thing we can learn is closely related. It comes near the end of the book when Ulysses the squirrel is forced by Flora’s mother, Phyllis Buckman, to type out a letter. She says, “You want to type?...Okay, let’s type. You are going to type what I say.” Ulysses tries to fight her, but he ends up giving in: “And then, stunned into dumb willingness, he typed every terrible, untrue word that came out of Phyllis Buckman’s mouth.” It has been my experience that when I try to write what I think other people want to read or what I think I can sell, the result is disastrous. The work is typically sterile, pretentious, and, worst of all, dishonest. Sorry, not interested. Instead, I strive (sometimes unsuccessfully) to do what Ulysses did earlier in the book when he wrote his first poem: “There was nothing he could do except to be himself, to try and make the letters on the keyboard speak the truth of his heart, to work to make them reveal the essence of the squirrel he was.” I may not be a squirrel, but my best, most satisfying work is always my most honest.

Another little gem of creative wisdom comes when the squirrel first displays his super powers. He lifts an entire vacuum over his head and shakes out a few crackers to eat as Flora and her neighbor, Tootie, look on in astonishment. DiCamillo writes “Who can say what astonishments are hidden inside the most mundane being?” 

Illustration for "Flora and Ulysses" by Kate DiCamillo, illustration by K. G. Campbell 

I sometimes find myself in a slump thinking, Who do I think I am? I can’t write. I’m no artist. Why do I bother? I’m far too boring. I have nothing worth saying. This is simply not true. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Dieter F. Uchtdorf said, "...remember that you are spirit daughters [and sons] of the most creative Being in the universe. Isn’t it remarkable to think that your very spirits are fashioned by an endlessly creative and eternally compassionate God? Think about it—your spirit body is a masterpiece, created with a beauty, function, and capacity beyond imagination." I don’t know about you, but remembering that I am the child of the Great Creator himself, makes me think that maybe I do have a few “astonishments” hidden up my sleeve. At one point in the book, Ulysses is in danger and Flora tells him to “Remember who you are!” and “Act!” That about sums it up, right? If you find yourself doubting your creative capacity, remember who you are: a child of the Great Creator. And, once you try to wrap your head around that whopper, act! Go create something!

Flora’s favorite comic book character is a superhero named “Incandesto”. In his normal life, Incandesto is an ordinary janitor, but, when needed, he “becomes a righteous pillar of light” and he “sheds light into the darkest corners of the universe.” The famous psychologist, Carl Jung, said that “the sole purpose of human existence, is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.” Isn’t this what the best writers and artists do? Isn’t this what we should be striving to do in our work? But how? Well, it might not be as difficult as it sounds. It doesn’t have to be all profound philosophical insights. Thoughts like those might be the lighthouses of the artistic world, but sometimes all we need, or even want, is a candle. All of us may not be able to construct an intellectual lighthouse, but all of us can at least light a candle. 

"Meditation" -Magritte

One way to light our own little candle is through astute observation and a practiced awareness of our surroundings. As The Criminal Element, one of the comics Flora reads, suggests, we need to “…learn to listen carefully. ‘All words at all times, true or false, whispered or shouted, are clues to the workings of the human heart. Listen. You must, if you care to understand anything at all, become a giant ear.’” Of course, it’s not just listening that we need to do. When Ulysses first gets his superpowers, he suddenly noticed that “everything was astonishing. The setting sun was illuminating each blade of grass. It was reflecting off the girl’s glasses, making a halo of light around the girl’s round head, setting the whole world on fire.” Ulysses thinks to himself, “When did the world become so beautiful? And if it has been this way all along, how is it that I never noticed before?” We have to constantly re-learn to notice using all of the senses. As children, we had this dialed: every rock had to be turned over, every bug was amazing, and every puddle in a parking lot with an oil rainbow in it was the most beautiful and fascinating thing, ever. To Ulysses, who had just become aware of his calling as a squirrel poet, everything “became interesting.” He began to notice all the beautiful sights, smells, and sounds and he “wanted to capture it. He wanted to write it down.” That is how we light our candle: Notice and help others to notice through our work.

My favorite character is the somewhat mysterious Dr. Meescham. She is constantly telling stories about her life as a little girl in Blundermeecen as a way of offering insights and advice to Flora. One of the most important pieces of advice she offers is this: “All things are possible…When I was a girl in Blundermeecen, the miraculous happened every day. Or every other day. Or every third day. Actually, sometimes it did not happen at all, even on the third day. But still, we expected it. You see what I am saying? Even when it didn’t happen, we were expecting it. We knew the miraculous would come.” Near the end of the book, after Ulysses flies through her open window, Dr. Meescham shares another story: “It is what I love about life, that things happen that I do not expect. When I was a girl in Blundermeecen, we left the window open for this very reason, even in the winter. We did it because we believed something wonderful might make its way to us through the open window.” Then, almost at the very end of the book, she says, “This is how it was when I was a girl in Blundermeecen. Like this. Always opening the door in the middle of the night and finding the face of someone you wanted to see. Well, not always. Sometimes it was the face of someone you did not want to see. But always, always in Blundermeecen, you opened the door because you could not stop hoping that on the other side of it would be the face of someone you loved.” All these stories share a theme of hope and faith that good things will happen if we just leave a window or door open. How do we leave this opening? We sit at the computer and type. We pick up a pen and write. We pick up a brush and paint. Creativity is an act of faith. We simply hope and believe that if we work long enough and hard enough, something good will come. Sometimes it takes a while and sometimes the work that shows up isn’t the face we wanted to see, but if we keep the window open, “the miraculous [will] come.”

There are so many more insights that DiCamillo gives us in this beautiful book, but I’ll end with this one: You, too, can be a superhero! The first time Ulysses starts punching letters into a typewriter, DiCamillo writes, “In the darkened kitchen, the unassuming squirrel worked slowly. His whiskers trembled. His heart sang. Was he fighting evil? Who could say?” 

Illustration for "Flora and Ulysses" by Kate DiCamillo, illustration by K. G. Campbell 

The next door neighbor, Tootie, asks, “For heaven’s sake, what kind of superhero types?” Flora, Tootie, and even Ulysses himself questions if you can really be a superhero by writing poems. But think about it, if you define a hero as someone who fights evil and spreads truth and light, then a writer or artist could easily fit that description. Later in the book, when Ulysses is certain about his calling as a poet, he sits down to type again and DiCamillo writes, “HE WILL DEFEND THE DEFENSELESS! HE WILL PROTECT THE WEAK! HE WILL WRITE A POEM! Writing, painting, drawing, creating of all kinds, takes courage. Sharing what we create with others takes bravery. Striving to keep our work honest takes integrity. Using our observation and insight to light the dark places of the universe, takes special powers:

“Holy unanticipated occurrences!”

Sounds like a superhero to me.

Persevere

"Speaking of expansion, did you know that there are now something like ninety billion galaxies in the universe? In such a universe, it seems ridiculous and foolhardy to attempt a creation of one's own, but still, I persevere, I persevere."

-Kate DiCamillo in "Flora and Ulysses" (one of the best books, ever)

Art by K. G. Campbell for "Flora and Ulysses"

                                                                       

Where Do Poems Hide?

One of my favorite poems is "Valentine for Ernest Mann" by Naomi Shihab Nye. It's a great poem about where poets find their poems. In it, Nye points out that poems are hiding everywhere and we just need to learn to see them. You don't have to be a poet to appreciate her point, though. Beauty, inspiration, ideas of all kinds are hiding in plain sight all around us. Marcel Proust said, "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes." Creative writing teachers love to go on and on about this kind of thing, and I guess I probably will, too, as I continue with this blog. In the mean time, here's Nye's poem:

Valentine for Ernest Mann

Naomi Shihab Nye

You can’t order a poem like you order a taco.

Walk up to the counter, say, “I’ll take two”

and expect it to be handed back to you

on a shiny plate.

Still, I like your spirit.

Anyone who says, “Here’s my address,

write me a poem,” deserves something in reply.

So I’ll tell a secret instead:

poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,

they are sleeping. They are the shadows

drifting across our ceilings the moment

before we wake up. What we have to do

is live in a way that lets us find them.

Once I knew a man who gave his wife

two skunks for a valentine.

He couldn’t understand why she was crying.

“I thought they had such beautiful eyes.”

And he was serious. He was a serious man

who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly

just because the world said so. He really

liked those skunks. So, he re-invented them

as valentines and they became beautiful.

At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding

in the eyes of skunks for centuries

crawled out and curled up at his feet.

Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us

we find poems. Check your garage, the off sock

in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.

And let me know.

Inspired by Nye's poem, I've written several poems about where poems hide. Below is a recent one from my journal complete with spelling errors and some pretty bad lines, but I think there's a few good ones too. I had doodled the tree several days before and then just thought it would be fun to write the poem around it. It makes it a heck of a trick to read the poem, but I had fun.

Here's a video of Nye reading her poem and explaining how she came up with the idea:

Struggle

"Success is never so interesting as struggle."
-Willa Cather

 "The Voyage of Life: Manhood" by Thomas Cole

"Journeys of the Imagination"

Not long ago I went on a "run" in the mountains above Willard, Utah. I ran up the trail through the beautiful and rugged Willard Canyon and then scrambled up some slabs for several hundred feet before my motivation ran dry. These steep, rocky peaks are one of my favorite places on the planet. In only minutes I can be alone, away from the city, and in an utterly alpine environment complete with circling bald eagles, prowling cougars, and grazing mountain goats. The trail runner/climber in me loves to move as fast and efficiently as I can through this challenging terrain. So why was this time different? I couldn't seem to make myself keep going. All of my usual motivation was drained from me. I felt good physically, but mentally I was completely out of gas. Finally, I just gave up on the notion of a run and sat down on a ledge.

At first, I was angry at myself for not continuing, but then I looked up and saw a beautiful white mountain goat grazing on a ledge not far away. It's winter coat was growing in and it looked gorgeous. With every small movement, I could see his huge muscles ripple beneath his fur. Suddenly, I realized the problem with trail running: You are moving so quickly that your eyes can never leave the next few feet of trail right in front of you. To look up and take in the view, usually means tripping over a rock and falling flat on your face. I had been surrounded by all of God's beauty, and all I was noticing was my own two feet. If I hadn't been having a bad day, I never would have stopped to take it all in. As I sat still and meditated on my surroundings, I felt all of the inspiration of these mountains distill inside me.

President David O. McKay said, "The Lord’s revelations teach us that we should repair to our personal Gethsemanes and Sacred Groves, that we should seek quietude on mountain tops. We must take off our shoes; we must feel the presence of God." That's exactly what I needed: a quiet moment with my thoughts and with God.

This is a pen and ink/water color I did in my journal the day after my "run".

Yesterday, I got back from spending four days in St. George, Utah with my family. We went down because my youngest son was in a soccer tournament. It was a very fun, exciting, busy, and exhausting trip. We went to soccer games, of course, but we also went hiking, bouldering, longboarding, and more. I was enjoying myself and happy to be out with my family, but I was also frustrated. I thought that being in St. George would stimulate my creativity. Instead, I felt brain dead. Then, I met this kid:

Detail of "Journeys of the Imagination" by Gary Lee Price.

He was at the Kathryn Lloyd Richards Sculpture Garden at Dixie State University. He's part of a bronze sculpture called "Journeys of the Imagination" by Gary Lee Price. I noticed the kid was just sitting still, almost like he was meditating, and his thoughts were soaring above him:

"Journeys of the Imagination" by Gary Lee Price.

You can just barely see the feet of the meditating boy at the bottom, left of the sculpture. The composition is, instead, dominated by his thoughts, by what he is imagining. I love the dynamic stance of the boy astride the paper airplane with his arms outstretched going on his "journey". I would argue that if the kid didn't stop, meditate, and let the inspiration of the world distill inside him, he never would have made this incredible journey.

David O. McKay said, “Meditation is the language of the soul. Meditation is a form of prayer. Meditation is one of the most secret, most sacred doors through which we pass into the presence of the Lord.”

Once again, I was reminded that, if I wanted to be inspired, I needed to slow down for a few minutes, sit still, and let all that's been going on settle into place in my mind. I imagine it like a busy day at work where, because of all that's been happening, a huge, chaotic mess has accumulated all over my desk. It's overwhelming to look at and there's nothing I can do with it until I get it organized. Every paper needs to go in it's proper place whether that's an important file or the garbage can. Only then can I prioritize, make sense of everything, and start to get something done. God's house is a house of order and, if I want to be inspired by God, I should have my thoughts in order.

Creativity, I realized, requires moments of quiet solitude and meditation. Taking a hint from the bronze kid, I sat down in the sculpture garden and listened to the trickling water of the fountain. I could physically feel the craziness of the trip start to settle in my mind like leaves falling from a tree and drifting slowly to the ground, each in its proper place, gently positioned in just the right spot by the hand of God.

The Touch of Butterfly Wings

"Take your fears to the Lord. Talk to him and listen to him. Then, if you feel a spiritual motion as tiny as the touch that a butterflies wing might make,acknowledge it, heed it, and let His influence work upon you."

-Patricia T. Holland

Your Mind is a Place

I did a warm-up with my Creative Writing class a little while ago in which I asked my students to imagine that their mind was a place that they could walk into and look around. What would it look like? What people or things would you find in there? I didn't feel like writing at the time, so a drew a quick, whimsical sketch in pencil. I know, it’s pretty bad when the teacher doesn't feel like writing but, hey, it happens. After school, I went over my sketch in pen, collaged in the planet earth, and colored the river and teddy bear with a combination of colored pencil and water color. Oddly enough, the very last thing I did was write. It ended up being a bit of a “stream of consciousness” story about finding a story idea in my brain (specifically, the new novel I’m working on). I liked the story of discovering a story in my own mind so much, that I then story-boarded it. I’m thinking I might turn it into a bigger more refined art project if I ever get around to it. I hope this inspires and entertains.

I'M SIGNIFICANT!

Calvin expresses my feelings for this first post exactly. I've never done a blog and, I must admit,  I'm a bit intimidated by the prospect. It's as if my little voice is yelling into the vast universe of the web. Will anyone hear? I guess I'll find out because, as you can see, I've decided to go for it.

I love to create. I create mostly through writing and art, and that is what this blog will mostly revolve around. The focus will be on the creative process in all it's forms: spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and even physical.

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, one of the leaders of my church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints or "Mormons" for short), once gave a talk in which he addressed creativity. He said, "The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before." I feel this wish profoundly. I am rarely happy unless I am creating something, anything, if only a new link-up of trails to run through the mountains near my home. This blog is a way for me to show some of my creations and to, hopefully, inspire and entertain any who read it.

In that same talk, President Uchtdorf went on to say, "...remember that you are spirit daughters [and sons] of the most creative Being in the universe. Isn’t it remarkable to think that your very spirits are fashioned by an endlessly creative and eternally compassionate God? Think about it—your spirit body is a masterpiece, created with a beauty, function, and capacity beyond imagination."

I spent years trying to write my first novel, short stories, poems, and more and it never even occurred to me where the creativity and inspiration was coming from. I guess I just thought there was some kind of subconscious cesspool that I would dredge any time I needed a good idea. Not the best way to work. It wasn't until I read The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron that I realized where that creativity came from and that creativity is a spiritual experience. Cameron echos Uchtdorf's ideas when she writes, "...creativity is our true nature...a process at once as normal  and miraculous as the blossoming of a flower at the end of a slender green stem." She goes on to say, "Making our art, we meet firsthand the hand of our Creator."

This was a huge paradigm shift for me! It completely changed the way I thought about creativity. Armed with this new knowledge given to me by Uchtdorf and Cameron, I completely changed my creative process. Uchtdorf said, "The more you trust and rely upon the Spirit, the greater your capacity to create." This is where the name for my blog comes from. I have tried to take those words to heart. Now, I try to rely on the Lord and do my best to show Him gratitude for all of His help.

Uchtdorf added, "That is your opportunity in this life and your destiny in the life to come. Sisters [and brothers], trust and rely on the Spirit. As you take the normal opportunities of your daily life and create something of beauty and helpfulness, you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you." I dearly hope that this blog will accomplish that. Maybe as long as I am creating, this "dust speck" is, in fact, significant.