Tuesday, May 25, 2010


Everything is Wonderful.

I've been hearing from a lot of artist and writer friends that everything is terrible. And oh, boy - there's been plenty of good reasons to come to that conclusion. Galleries have closed, designers seem to have fled to their stylish hills - the art market in general dried up drier than a raisinet left under a sofa cushion for a couple of years.

And the writing world has had its own share of difficulties. Publishing house tightened their belts until their faces turned blue. Editors were fired in heartbreaking droves. Writers that had had nice little careers with successful books to their name now found themselves on the outside looking in.

It's enough to make you want to lay on the floor like a dead thing.

Worse, it's enough to make you wonder if your creative services are no longer needed. It can even be enough to have you question whether maybe, perhaps - you may have even wasted your life.

STOP THINKING THAT.

We are creative people. We get ideas all the time about what to draw and what to write about. At various points in our lives we need to come up with ideas how to not only weather a lull in business but how to make it work for you in the long run.

You are not just good at only one thing. Have you stuck to one medium for a very long time? Have you written for mostly one market all these years? Maybe it's time to shake things up a bit. And here's the deal - first attempts at these new endeavors may not be successful. They might even suck. That's because you're learning, right? Dare to suck.

Take a class or a workshop. A learning brain is a younger brain. Play with words, eat paste.

Don't wait for things to come to you. Explore. Research. Travel outside the swirling little worried world inside your head. Don't just go around with your eyes and ears open, develop gigantic huge froggie eyes. Grow Dumbo ears - attractive!

Stop trying to win - for awhile. I asked my tennis coach yesterday for advice on how to pick up my game for next season. I had a rough spring, losing most of my matches - some by a hair - some by all out annihilation. He recommended some lessons to strengthen existing skills and to develop new ones. He suggested hit groups to go out and simply whack the ball a few thousand times. Pick up games were fine, as long as - I didn't try to win. Once you go into competitive mode, you naturally fall back on what you know rather than using what you're learning. That'll put you right back to square one as far as improvement.

I love how tennis is exactly like art and writing.

This week I received a commission for a piece of art similar to the one at the top of the post which was also a commission. The title is "Everything is Wonderful". If it were up to me I'd change it up a little bit, like where's the chocolate cake? Where's the wine? But a sunny day, dogs happily jumping around, flying kites? Not too shabby.

I guess if you focus on the "wonderful" than everything IS wonderful even if it's just for a few minutes. It's out there - really.

Now go eat paste.


Wednesday, May 19, 2010

I read my horoscope just about every day and I believe those daily forecasts - as long as they're good ones. The downer ones? Don't you know that's just all hooey, mumbo-jumbo? But the positive ones? I'm right there, baby.

But the one that I saw this morning had me scratching my head:

"That brain of yours is good for lots of things today - so make the most of it! You should be able to figure out a few new answers to tough questions. You might even drift over into philosophy.

Let's break this down a bit. "That brain of yours is good for lots of things today." Okay, great, here's a short list of things I'd like my brain to be good for:

Becoming an ATM machine with unlimited cash reserves.
Becoming a Star Trek replicator so I can just materialize a loaf of bread and dishwasher detergent instead of going all the way back to the hated grocery store because I forgot two stupid items.
Performing liposuction.

It's still pretty early in the day. Could happen. I'm going to wait on the grocery store trip.

So, let's move on to that second sentence for Gemini's horoscope, May 19th, 2010. "You should be able to figure out a few new answers to tough questions." Okay, brain. Go for it.

Why are there no helium zebras? (see above illustration)
Why did I rescue a dog with a bladder the size of a toasted almond?
Why is gravity no one's friend after the age of 40?

Processing, processing... Nope. I got nothing. I'm starting to lose faith in the science of the stars here.

"You might even drift over into philosophy."

Fine, I guess I could do that. How about, I think, therefore I want a diet Dr. Pepper? How about wondering the reason the universe decides that the child that sidles up you to in the classroom and pets your cheek, saying, "Your wrinkles are REALLY soft" is always the same kid you watched sneeze into their hands a couple of minutes before? How ruminating about the awfulness of the blank sheet of paper or monitor screen - what is the philosophy of that dread, despair, that outright hopelessness?

Aw, I'm just yanking your chain there. My brain, no matter what my horoscope said is pretty much good for nothing today - a useful spacer to separate my ears is about it's accomplished so far. So here's what I'm doing. I'm going to print out that horoscope, change the date to tomorrow and see what the morning brings. I have stuff to write and pictures to draw...

Helium zebras would be pretty cool too.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

It's important to have skills. Since I've been teaching school the last several weeks one personal skill I've found to be the most useful is my ability to make really loud and sharp dolphin "ah - ah - ah" noises. They're ear rippers, I tell you. Want to stop rampaging 3rd graders in their tracks?

Dolphin noises.

But the skill I've found the most useful in my writing work is doodling. Doodling is totally underrated. If I were a world famous brain surgeon I could tell you definitively that doodling frees up neural pathways in your gray matter allowing creativity to flow with abandon. A bran muffin for your idea machine if you will.

Wow, that was not the image I wanted to present. Sorry.

But since I'm not a world famous brain surgeon, I can only conjure up awful digestive analogies and guess that doodling does open up your mind as far as creative thinking.

Case in point - these little guys in the doodle above were in the margins of a manuscript I've been working on with an editor. I was stymied at one area of the story - an important one that set up the ending. My ideas were definitely NOT flowing with abandon. But that's when the 3 bunnies rode in to the rescue. 3 bunnies, 1 kitty, 1 hummingbird and 1 flower later, I came up with something - something that I actually liked.

The power of bunnies? Perhaps. But I think it's more the power of doodling. I don't care if your doodles are stick people or a fair rendition of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It's the process of the doodling that counts, not the product, so no "I can't draw" whining allowed.

So next time you're stuck in your writing, or stuck in a boring meeting, try doodling. You may just get a brilliant idea for your story or maybe even a brilliant idea of how to get out of that boring meeting...

Happy doodling.

Friday, May 07, 2010

Busy teaching, busy writing, busy coloring, busy chasing after Dutch, the old man wiener dog and Twig, the terrible min-pin puppy...

Life is good.

In my teaching, lately I've gotten a lot of questions around active vs. passive verbs. Maybe this example will help:

Passive

We all were running from the gigantic, fire-breathing death dog.

Active

We all ran from the gigantic, fire-breathing death dog.

And to SHOW this info rather than TELL it?

"Hey! It's a gigantic, fire-breathing death dog! Run!"

I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.