Gateway Drugs and Pheonix Flames

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Notebooks are piling steadily by the foot of my bed, on and around my desk. Pens are scattered through out the house trailing inky stains of things I have imagined. I am inspired by a word, the word buried itself into my head and over time has bloomed into several words, a scene filled with roaring thunder, or perhaps a silent night filled with horrors of the dark. The idea has bloomed inside of my head and it grows like a weed, twisting and weaving it's way throughout my brain. I fall asleep to conversations of my characters and my dreams are filled with them racing across the pages I am trying to write as they embrace their destiny, their adventure filled fate.

Writing a new story is like wading through a storm at sea. It is so beautiful, entrancing and magical and yet you know that once you cross the line and swim towards the eye, once you write the very first line, the very first word you are lost. It is a dangerous thing falling in love with the story you write, it hurts you when you see everything they must go through to reach the end of the tale. Starting a book is the hardest part for me because I know I am going to fall, I am going to become ensnared by the conversations the characters have in the bleak midnight hours. I am going to become entrapped by the landscape and the haunting memories that are glaring at the horizon. But I don't care I swim towards the first page anyways. I know the risks, the dangers of having a love for something that is so consuming it feels raw and bright.

I think someone once called it passion. I am passionate about writing, it makes me feel good. It transforms me from a seventeen year old girl into a elvish warrior, or a robot. I can become a Greek God, or a witch. I have lived a thousand lives through reading and with writing I plan to live a thousand more. But it isn't just about escapism, writing to me is about the power of creating something. Creating something so incredible that you can feel every single word resonate within you.

As I begin to embark upon the new journey awaiting me I try to take a pause. I try to just live in the regular world doing regular things, but to be honest I am so much happier with my nose touching the notebook as I scribble out words that stream from my head to the paper. My eyes get crossed as I try to keep up with the way my pen is forming each letter. I love fictional things, I love the art of storytelling, the caress of each syllable of beauty and mystery against your eyes.

I love little things in every day life inspiring me. I love the leak in the bathroom sink by my room and the way it echoes into my head as I fall asleep creating the rhythmic beat against the ceramic. In my head instead of rational thoughts I can hear the heartbeat of Theo steady and clear. I can hear his youth, his vitality inside my head. Through the leaky faucet I can hear his unsteady laugh as he tries to diffuse a situation, I can hear his voice hoarse with anger and sleep when he awakens to news that rips through him.

I am inspired by the way the little boy down the street learns to ride his bike, never failing to climb back on once he has fallen. He ignores the scrapes and bruises that are forming on his knobbly knees with a goal in front of his eyes. I am inspired by that determination as I see flashes of a warrior ready to fight until not only the battle is over but the war has been won.

I love the world of possibilities that is resting at the turn of a page or the scribble of a pen. The hope that fills the chest of a child as they fall in love with a character for the first time, the giddiness that comes with happy endings and the heartache that is incredibly consuming when you reach the end of a book and there is no more.

Writing is like a gateway drug(1) to the impossible , it shows you things you didn't expect and makes you feel alive in ways you didn't know were possible. Like a Phoenix the passion of a story burns through you, turning you to ashes as you say goodbye to one tale but then bursting forth with a new flame as you see the beginnings of a new friend.

I write and write and write because a voyage filled with uncertainty and undiscovered territories are awaiting me to join them. I write because Theo needs to speak and because Simon is cranky in the mornings.

Hopefully soon I will get to share some of these adventures with you, but for now my muses are demanding my attention. I am off to embark upon a frightening, exciting time with characters that will surely steal bits and pieces of my heart.

LLAP,
Lexi Brady


1- Hugs not drugs. Or books not drugs. Just no drugs. :)

Requiem Of A Nightmare.

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There is a fever building inside of me. I can feel it building in my head, words rolling like an oncoming storm I can't run from. I force my eyes open to try to keep the flood of images assaulting my mind at bay to no avail. I don't want to see what I know is about to happen. I want to pretend that the words that have been penned down are forever and the end is just a nightmare I can't escape from.

The world of creativity is closing its once open doors to me until I give in to what the muses have thrown at me. I want to say no to them, but I know they are right. It is time to say goodbye to characters my heart holds so dearly. It is time to write their last words and imagine that once I am done their live will continue. I imagine grand-children and weddings. Car-wrecks and anniversarys. But not for me. For me it is time to part with my beloved friends. It is time I give them the freedom to run their own lives.

But it hurts. It hurts to say goodbye and end a story. I can see it so vividly though, the colors clashing violently with one another, the sounds that are fighting for dominion in my ears. I can feel the thick air of the last page trying to choke me with desperation and pleas for it not to be over.

It is a bittersweet romance with words I have found my self falling into. They caress my soul with the tenderest of touches, letting me know they are always their to comfort, and love me. But then towards the end of writing a novel the caress becomes a vice grip, a worry that I share. Is this about to be over? Must we say goodbye?

Someone once told me if you love something set it free. And maybe I am incredibly selfish but I find it ever so hard to do so. I want to crawl into the warm expanse of endless words and paragraphs and lay beneath the same sun my protagonist is seeing. But I don't. I am tell them this is the end. It is over for now.

Our entangled lives need to part so we can continue our journey. But an ache develops inside of my chest, how can I say it's over? How can I possibly bear to leave this magical world that holds such beauty?


I am not throwing our time together away, but rather cherishing the moments shared and knowing when to say goodbye. I will always love my characters and the adventures that brought us together whether it has been tears of laughter, rage or depression. We have made it through battles and fought together when the wind carried plot devices even I didn't realize was coming.

The nightmare is over, I have awakened and yet the requiem plays on. My journey with Voda has ended and through my tears I can somehow make out a new adventure resting just over the horizon.


LLAP,
Lexi Brady

Why We Need Creative Writing

Sechin Tower

@SechinTower

With each passing year, greater numbers of students arrive at Day One of my high school writing classes already questioning the value of what we do. Even in the honors classes, I’ve noticed a growing trend of students seemingly waiting to pounce on the moment when they can boldly declare how much they hate reading novels or how useless it is to practice writing.

“It’s fine for you,” a student told me just a few days ago. “You write books about robots and adventure and stuff, but I don’t care about that. I already write good enough. [sic] I’m not going to be a writer, so none of this will help me in real life.”

These doubts deserve honest analysis. What if novels and fiction and essays really have been made obsolete by video games and texts and Facebook posts? If these new media are the future of human communication, is it really worth students’ time and taxpayers’ dollars to teach them such outdated forms? Or even that it’s worth spelling “you” with three letters?

The answer can’t rest on mere tradition. Just because we’ve always done things this way doesn’t mean we always should. If that were the case, we’d still be boxing children’s ears every time they emerged from the coal mines before the end of their fourteen hour shifts. And it should also be noted that these students aren’t arguing for illiteracy, just that they’ve already learned the rudimentary mechanics of reading and writing, and they believe that’s enough. Why learn more?

Across this country, Teachers of literature frequently find themselves answering this question, and not just to students. They must explain to parents and school boards and legislators that literature is more than an idle pastime because it teaches us different perspectives from our past, present, and future. Furthermore, students who regularly read also score higher on every important exam, including those outside the humanities. Scientific research also confirms that reading challenging literature strengthens the brain.

I wholeheartedly agree with all those arguments, but I feel that there’s at least one more point that needs to be made in defense of writing, and specifically creative writing at that.

Naturally, reading and writing can’t be split apart any more than you could yank the north pole off the top of a magnet. They are Yin and Yang, and every author knows that to be a writer, one must also be a reader. But most classes still revolve around which books you’ve read and how much you remember about them. Maybe this is another artifact of past educational systems, or maybe it’s because English teachers are always passionate readers but not always passionate writers. Whatever the case, the skills of writing for different purposes, different audiences, and in different forms are all too often forgotten or assumed, and then teachers and professors are shocked when even graduate-level students struggle with structuring their essays, let alone with forms of writing other than the essay.

Writing takes practice, but even in our world of texts and emails it’s still worth taking the time to master some of the skills required to be better understood. We don’t have to write like Shakespeare, but we should have the power to express ourselves in writing so that others can understand us—or, at the very least, so that others won’t think we’re idiots.

Anyway, that’s what I’d like to tell the kid who thinks writing is a waste of time. I  know he’ll never read this (and I won’t assign anything I’ve ever written because it just seems too narcissistic), but as final proof of the power of the written word, far more people will hear my side of the argument because of this post than will ever hear his opinion. And if he disagrees, he’s more than welcome to leave a (written) comment on this post!

Be good, and dream crazy dreams,

Sechin Tower is a teacher, a table-top game designer, and the author of Mad Science Institute. You can read more about him and his books on SechinTower.com and his games on SiegeTowerGames.com

Reconnect to Your Creativity by Creating Firsts

In my non-fiction book Happiness Rehab: 8 Creative Steps to a More Joyful Life, my co-author Mary Schramski and I talk about the fact that far too many people live their lives in a state of semi-hypnosis. Often we take for granted all the simple wonders in our world such as shadows and light, colors, shapes and angles. As people "grow up" and have more responsibilities, creative observation and insight tend to decrease, and because of that so does a measure of our happiness.  

            It's a shame for this to happen to anyone, but if your work requires innovation -- for instance, if you're a writer or in some other type of artistic or creative field -- you cannot just sit back and do nothing. But what can help you if you've lost touch with your creative side or you're in a creative slump and you no longer notice the miraculous in everyday life? What if it seems impossible to you that you'll ever recapture that sense of fascination with the world?

            It just so happens, I have a few solutions! I talked about a few of them in a previous post. But right now I want to discuss another one that I call the "magic of firsts." The following paragraphs from Happiness Rehab explain how it works:    

      In order to recapture the magic, it helps to remember a time when creativity was at work in your life and how it felt.

 

Try to recall the first time you met someone to whom you felt a strong attraction and write about it . . . What physical thing about this person stood out to you most at first sight? Where were you when you first saw this person? Were you at a party? At school? Standing on a street corner? How did you feel? Your heart might have raced at the sight of this person, and you knew you were experiencing something phenomenal. When remembering, most people think first of a romantic encounter, but parents can also describe the intense magnetism of seeing their child for the first time. As a parent, you probably focused completely on the new addition to your life, and the awe, love and sense of protectiveness that swept through you was so immediate and intense it felt all-consuming. Everything about that new being amazed you: tiny fingers and toes, downy skin, the tilt or curve of your baby’s nose.

Recall another time in your life when you were amazed at something, as if you were seeing or experiencing it for the first time. It may be something as simple as your first airline flight, or as glorious as your child’s first steps . . . . Now answer the following questions about this child-like fascination experience you had:

            1. What was it?

2. Where were you?

3. What was the object or event?

            4. How did you feel?

           

            When I did the above exercise for the first time, I thought of my first trip to New York City when I was in my thirties. I had flown there for a conference, but what stands out in my mind the most is the cab ride from the airport to the hotel in Times Square. I felt excited and energized. I was tuned in completely to each scent and sight and sound. I was fascinated by everything and filled with enthusiastic anticipation for whatever experience was waiting for me around the next corner.

            That particular memory has remained very vivid to me over the years because when I was in that cab, I was completely engrossed with the world around me and the event taking place. I was experiencing a "first" with child-like fascination. Although I was unaware of the fact, I was primed for creativity during that time, because child-like fascination is one of the keys to engaging imagination and releasing creative flow. And within that realm we experience a sense of happiness that seeps into our everyday life.

            Creating new "firsts" in your life helps you to stay engaged and aware of the simple wonders around you that can, otherwise, be too easy to take for granted and miss.  How can you "create" a first? Try the following, also from Happiness Rehab:

            Start off by challenging yourself to try one new thing per month. Soon, you’ll discover you want to do more. Up the challenge to one new thing per week, then one per day. Don’t panic. These can be small, easy things:

• Drive a different route to work.
• Take your daily walk in a different neighborhood each day.           
• Try a restaurant you’ve never gone to.
• Sample a food you’ve never tasted.

Once you’re comfortable, try more involved firsts:

• Attempt to start a new friendship by calling up an acquaintance and asking him or her to meet you for coffee.
• Sign up to take a class in a subject that interests you.
• Rearrange the furniture in your house in an unexpected way.

           

Of course, you can also attempt the bigger firsts, too:

• Plan a trip to someplace you’ve never been.
• Face a fear by doing something that frightens you – like public speaking or applying for a new job.

            For more ideas to help you reconnect or stay connected to your creativity, check out the new Happiness Rehab website or download Happiness Rehab: 8 Creative Steps to a More Joyful Life free of charge to your Kindle this coming Saturday, Sunday and Monday (October 13, 14,15).

Hard Work and Inspiration

By Dan Haring

Full disclosure: I'm not a huge White Stripes fan. I like a few of their songs, but have never really gotten into them too much. But a friend recently passed this video on to me, and not only does it give me extra appreciation for their music, it gives me a lot of respect for singer(/songwriter/guitarist/etc) Jack White.


He talks about dreaming of being able to record an album, dreaming of being able to play on stage. Once he finally achieved those things, he could have probably had a long, lucrative career coasting along, making so-so music and relying on his earlier hits to make up for later mediocrity.  Instead, he came up with a unique way of keeping the hunger there, of keeping the immediacy. He limits himself. He makes things hard to do when performing live. Little things that no musician of his stature should have to endure, he endures. And he does it to keep things raw and fresh and real.

So...this all relates to writing, right? I think it does. I'm going through a revision right now, and I'm coming to realize sometimes I just coast by. I write something that's adequate and move on because it would be too hard to stretch and try to go down a certain road. But when I do that I end up leaving so much behind that could be better.

Doing hard things makes us better, and working hard makes us better.

As Jack says, "Inspiration and work ethic ride right next to each other...Not every day of your life are you gonna wake up and the clouds are gonna part and rays from heaven are gonna come down and you're gonna write a song from it. I mean sometimes you just get in there and just force yourself to work and maybe something good will come out."

Good will come of it, but we have to push ourselves. It's the difference between telling an adequate story and an exceptional story.

Which one do you want to tell?

Those Boys in the Basement

Ever have those moments when you've slaved all day over a hot keyboard and gotten in all your pages and so you think, okay, I deserve a break today? (And, no, I don't mean a Big Mac and fries.)  Or let's say you've been fretting all day and you just can not, for the life of you, figure out how to tweak something to make that plot go?  In either case, you get up, walk away, head out to the gym--and then <DOH> it hits you, that Bart Simpson moment: how you're going to have to go back and tear up about five of those ten or twelve pages because you messed up.  Or that messy plot point unravels for you?  Or there's something even better you coulda/shoulda/woulda written if you've only been THINKING?  

Ah, but the trick is: you thought of it because you didn't.

In BAG OF BONES and ON WRITING, King calls it the boys in the basement.  Other people call it: muse, the subconscious, the unconscious, the artistic impulse.  Me, I call it both a Bart Simpson moment and a necessary ingredient to creativity: those instances when you have relaxed your conscious attention to a task and, Eureka, the answer--or a reasonable facsimile--presents itself.  For it to work for me, I need to be exercising or out in the garden, out in the sun, or hiking--doing something outdoors.  I have a writer-friend who routinely takes a nap if he comes up against a plot point that just won't fix itself.  Stephen King goes for long walks, and so does his protag in BAG OF BONES.

What we're all doing is diverting our attention from the task at hand.  We're removing ourselves from the surround and environmental cues that not only dictate how we should be behaving (i.e., hoeing a garden is altogether different from tapping on a keyboard and composing sentences) but create the expectations that we SHOULD both create and be creative.  That is, we're taking ourselves out from under the eye of the boss-man, who'll certainly dock our pay if we take one second's extra break than we're entitled to.

We all know the difference in these styles of thought, too, because we feel them and we feel the transitions back and forth.  (Hinky and unsettling, but true.)  Conscious thought is analytic and derivative; that is, when we're focused on a task, we think about it and make judgments.  We winnow; we parse and pare; we don't encourage the weeds.  Unconscious thought is, of course, much more closely related to dreaming, when the mind makes what feel like bizarre associations on the basis of connections we've forgotten about.  Think of the dream's imagery as the brain's attempt to find near-matches, places where your experiences should be slotted.  Those pathways are not logical; they're not derivative; they're a bit like weedy cross-connections: dandelions that worked their way into your cucumber patch because both plants have yellow flowers.

Allowing your unconscious to help you out is a bit like letting the boys in the basement play.  You need to relax enough to allow them to play, and for many of us, that means distractions: walking, napping, ripping out pesky weeds, breaking up of dirt, cooking dinner, doing the laundry; anything that allows your rigorous control over where your thoughts go to slip a bit.

But creativity is still a two-step process.  Yes, you can let the boys play.  They can come up with an interesting and novel solution.  But then you have to allow that solution to become conscious; it has to translate and transfer itself from the back of your mind to the front.  This isn't trivial either.  If you've ever tried a dream journal (I did, waaaay back when I was in analysis), you realize how stupid your dreams feel and sound and how fleeting they are once you engage a secondary, cognitive process like forming words with a pen or pencil.  What felt so logical or emotionally laden in a dream becomes, well, kind of dumb in the translation--and you also tend to forget if you can't find a way to allow the transfer to occur, and quickly.

For me, that means talking to myself, out loud, especially since I'm usually miles from home.  Yes, I get many strange looks because I have to keep talking, or my attention begins to wander again.  (This is both good and bad.  I may lose what I just discovered, but I may also gain something else.   In the middle of the night, if I jump up after a long period of staring at the ceiling and letting my attention wander, then I have a little tougher time deciphering what I meant if I've written it down.  Hearing my own voice tends to sock it home.  Even then, I still forget, which is kind of a pain.  Not to mention the fact that I'm jumping up and down all night long, and the husband is . . . well, a little annoyed.  OTOH, I have a very understanding spouse who doesn't seem to mind talking for a while in the wee hours.  He understands the value of calming the savage beast.)  I know other authors carry notebooks; some talk into digital recorders or their phones.  We all have our ways of translating that play into the work we've secretly been doing all along.

The important thing is to recognize that not paying attention allows us to solve complex problems--BUT that only works when we actually have a goal.  In other words, if you're inattentive and sort of a space cadet and have no real goal or problem or purpose . . . yeah, you're going to flounder, you're going to drift, and no Eureka moments for you.  On the other hand, if you are engaged in solving a complex problem, then not paying attention--not thinking about what's bothering you--will actually help the boys help YOU find the answer.

Now, excuse me . . . oooh, there goes a really pretty butterfly . . .

The Creativity/Happiness Connection

by Jennifer Archer

About a year ago, my sister and I were talking about my writing and she made a comment that sparked an idea for a non-fiction book that I've since written with a co-author. "I remember being creative as a kid," she said. "I made ceramics and did a lot of other things. What happened? I don't have an imaginative bone in my body anymore. I'd like to have a creative hobby but I don't have a clue what I'd be good at or even what would interest me." 

My sister has raised two great kids and is a very accomplished business person, a partner in an insurance firm. She is a self-made woman who managed to climb the ladder of success in her field without even having a college degree. She is smart and personable and beautiful. Yet, it was clear to me that my sister felt as if something important was missing in her life -- a piece of the puzzle that keeps a happy life in balance. 

I started thinking about the importance of creativity as a part of a full, happy life and asking myself if there is a creativity/happiness connection. Intrigued, I thought about the role creativity has played in my own life and contentment. I also did research on the topic of creativity and happiness and talked to my writing friend Mary Schramski, who studied creativity extensively while working on her Masters and Ph.D. Mary also taught creative writing for many years as a college professor. When all was said and done, I came away with the certainty that having a creative outlet, or simply living with heightened creative awareness, leads to a more complete and joyous life. So Mary and I decided to write a book on the subject: HAPPINESS REHAB: 8 Creative Steps to a More Joyful Life.

Which leads me back to my sister's question: What happened? 

What happened to my sister's imaginative instincts is all-too-common. As human beings, we're all born creative. If you don't believe this, observe children and think about your own childhood. Children play make-believe. They dress up like Mommy or Daddy. They pretend to be teachers or firemen. They draw pictures and make up stories. But as time goes by, the circumstances of life and added responsibilities slowly begin to try to reign in our imaginative instincts, or at the very least, to restrict them. We start school and are told to stop daydreaming. We're instructed on what kind of story to write or what to paint or sketch, and then our efforts are graded. Even more time passes and suddenly we have homework, then a job, then others who rely upon us. Imagination often gets pushed aside, then buried, to make room for the more practical thought processes that help us do what we need to do to meet our obligations and get through each day.

The good news is that my sister was wrong when she said she doesn't have an imaginative bone in her body anymore. Her creativity still exists. It's  buried somewhere deep inside of her. She just needs to unearth it to tap into it again. In our book HAPPINESS REHAB: 8 Creative Steps to a More Joyful Life, Mary and I include several Practices to help start that process and also suggest attempting a few "exploriments." Exploriments are a hands-on way to rediscover an old creative passion, or to form a new one. For instance, anyone wanting to rediscover or enhance their creativity might try one of the following:

1.      Grab your camera (or buy an inexpensive disposable camera) and take off on a photo-taking mission. Snap shots around your neighborhood, the mall, a park, a cemetery, an amusement park. Or simply take photos inside of your house or in your own backyard.

2.      Buy a new cookbook or pull out an old one you seldom use. Find a recipe for something unlike anything you've ever made before. Assemble the ingredients and utensils you need, tie on an apron and get cookin'.

3.      Rearrange and redecorate a room using furniture, knickknacks, lamps, pictures, etc., that you already have on hand. Position furniture in a way you've never considered before. Combine items you never thought about putting together -- a pillow on a sofa, a picture above a chair, a flower arrangement on a table.

4.      Take a field trip to a hobby store and wander up and down the aisles. Explore the artificial flower department. Touch knitting and crochet yarn. Feel the texture of upholstery and clothing fabrics. Scoop loose beads for making jewelry into your hands. Shake tiny bottles of artist oil paint and look at all the brushes. Take note of where you linger the longest, what catches your eye, and what keeps drawing you back for another look.

These are just a few of the exploriments Mary and I came up with. With a little thought, you can invent others on your own.

Another helpful creative tool that we recommend is starting a Creative Happiness Journal. Write down your thoughts about your own creativity. Recall any imaginative pursuits you engaged in as a child. List what's holding you back from becoming more creative. Record your fears, your hopes, your dreams. Write down your experiences with any exploriments you undertake. Note your newly-found creativity and happiness as it unfolds. Don't worry about the correctness of your journal. Spelling, grammar and neatness don't matter. Simply write down what you're thinking and experiencing.

Creativity is a wonderful gift -- one we're all given at birth. I have experienced, firsthand, the joy of living a full creative life, and I know that creativity can bring anyone more happiness. If you have trouble recalling a time when you were creative, or you feel as if you've hit a creative roadblock, try a few exploriments or start a Creative Happiness Journal and begin to rediscover the joy that, as a child, you experienced daily.

 

HAPPINESS REHAB: 8 Creative Steps to a More Joyful Life by Jennifer Archer & Mary Schramski, Ph.D., will be available online soon. Visit Jennifer's website and blog for more information and to vote through Friday, 8/17/12 on the cover you like best. You'll be entered to win a prize just for casting your vote! www.jenniferarcher.com

Dream Drapery

by Jennifer Archer

This photo was taken a few years ago as the plane my husband, Jeff, and I were on left Mexico. When I looked out of the window at the clouds all around us, I was taken back to my childhood...

As a kid, I indulged in quite a lot of daydreaming and make-believe. More than one teacher told me to get my "head out of the clouds." Flights of fancy are considered by most people -- especially adults -- to be a waste of time, but I don't think that's necessarily true. Sure, I should've paid attention during class instead of gazing out the window and making up stories. I should've reined-in my imagination until the last bell rang. But a lot of young daydreamers grow up and make a career out of escaping into their imaginations, and I'm one of them. I get paid for doing the very thing that used to get me into trouble. It's my job to spend hours every day with my head in the clouds! How cool is that? How lucky can a girl be? I am so grateful and amazed sometimes that I feel as if I need to pinch myself. Laboring in the land of make-believe hasn't made me rich, but there's no place I'd rather spend my days. I mean, I tried reality once and it just didn't work for me!

Think about that the next time you're tempted to pull some kid back to earth, because let me tell you -- my office is a pretty great place to work. (Note, once more, the photo above). Pretty gorgeous color-scheme, huh? The furniture is so comfortable I feel like I'm sitting on a feather, and the curtains are soft and billowy. Oh, and did I mention that the air-conditioning always carries the scent of rain?

Clouds are a writer's "dream-drapery," the source of many stories, of poetry and music and possibilities. Keep your head in the clouds and dream on, all you dreamers...

Low-Anchored Cloud
by Henry David Thoreau

Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain-head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream-drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of lakes and seas and rivers,
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men's fields!

Happy Reading,

Jenny

Jennifer Archer's website

Robin Williams, Jonah Lehrer, Neuroscience--and Creativity.

Carol Tanzman here.

A few days ago, I read an interview in the LA Times with Jonah Lehrer, a bestselling author who writes about creativity.

Usually, I run like the devil from articles like that. I worry that if I actually analyze how the process works, the rarefied air will be let out of the bottle—and the magic (such as it is) will be gone. Not that I have any illusions that writing a book is magic. It is hard, hard work––but then, I do have to admit there are those moments of magic (creativity?) that come out of nowhere, which makes it all worthwhile.

I scanned down the article to read the bolded questions. You are an LAUSD kid, right?  Lehrer answered yes, which got my attention. In addition to writing, I teach drama in the Los Angeles Unified School District, the second largest public school district in the country. That meant that I could not pass up an article about someone who attended LAUSD from K-12. He not only lived to tell about it, he obviously thrived.

What Lehrer said about creativity in the interview is that there are simply two phases of the creative process and everyone requires both: focus and relaxation. You work and work and work – and you make progress – and then you hit the wall. That’s when you need to relax: do something else, take a walk, hit the showers.

Not an earth-shattering concept but here (perhaps) is the more unusual part of the interview.

Lehrer noted that when scientists put jazz pianists in a brain scanner and asked them to improvise (now, that’s got to be one BIG scanner), the musicians literally turn off a part of the brain that normally keeps people from saying and doing things—in essence, they create without worrying about what they’re creating.

I’m assuming that’s what’s also known as flow. Those moments when everything extraneous disappears and you’re in the moment. You don’t even realize you are in the moment—and then you look up—and hours have gone by.

How do you get to flow? Focus and relaxation, perhaps. The constant yin-yang of what Lehrer initially spoke of as the elements of the creative process loosens the binds of our internal censors. It’s not a conscious turning off of that part of the brain; after awhile, it’s automatic.

But you can’t get to that flow until you’ve spent time doing whatever it is you do, getting better and better. Writing, playing jazz, telling jokes. All of those need time, and effort, to develop craft. All those hours of rehearsal, or practicing jokes in front of a mirror, sitting at your computer writing and writing, even if it doesn’t initially seem that you are getting somewhere, will ultimately pay-off.

There is no better (or more fun) example than Robin Williams. It’s not only in his stand-up act, which one can assume he’s worked on, but in TV interviews that you literally see his brain firing on all pistons.  No censor. I love the bit about socks that comes up in this segment with Dave Letterman.

Clearly, one of the reasons he’s so successful are the years Robin spent practicing voices, becoming characters and then, as in the interview, focusing on Letterman. He finds the moment, and bam, he’s off, automatically turning off the part of the brain that censors people so he can get to those crazy, and hysterically funny places.

Hard to do… but so worth the effort. Focus and relaxation, focus and relaxation….no censor. Hmmmm, now that I’ve finally written this, maybe I can go relax….