I started this blog as an online portfolio to show interested editors of various publications I might query for freelance work. It's supposed to be a practice in discipline and writing. I haven't posted in a month. Clearly the process is working.
Truth be told I haven't written much of anything in weeks, other than a few journal entries. I've done a little drawing and very little reading. I've just been so busy with the garden and chasing my red broiler chickens around the yard, watching them get fat and happy on natural feed. I'm starting up a business with a friend - a part time project certain to bring in money. Writers not writing, especially, need an income. I witnessed a hog slaughter and learned to carve a side of beef. I've been cooking up a storm, following other's recipes and creating my own. I've worked the Master Gardner helpline and fought the japanese beetles threatening my garden - an ongoing battle of wits and soapy water.
The next few weeks aren't looking any calmer: party to plan, parties to attend, more gardening, more cooking, copywriting deadline, fuel the new business. And through all of this the ideas continue to flow. It's all I can do to jot down the tune, so to speak, and file it away on my desk, worktable, nightstand, or in my purse.
Natalie Chanin, friend and ardent blogger, never mind she's an internationally known designer with a substantial, growing following (my current numbers cap at three), she blogs nearly every day. And ten years ago, she recently told me, despite everything that should have been or could have been, she started doing exactly what she felt drawn to do: she sewed. Everyday.
In a recent blog post Natalie shared a link to Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, discussing creativity . Gilbert reminded me of the ancient Greek belief in genius. A person could not be a genius, but could have a genius - a spirit, a muse, a daemon, who worked with the artist, the writer, the performer, to create. She says, in having a partner, the creator can share the huge responsibility of creating. Perhaps it also holds the creator accountable. We have to show up and do our part, do the work.
It suddenly dawned on me, my genius is working a lot harder than I am.
So I'm crossing off projects, postponing others, and working to make time to do the work. How fortunate I am to have been blessed with an active, prolific genius. She's standing here now, tapping her toe, giving me that look.
Comments