Showing posts with label Process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Process. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

My Writing Day


A big thank you to Rob McClennan (whose work I've long followed) for including me in his new project about how writers spend their days (click the link to read my piece). As you know, I've long been interested in process...but it's so messy and unconsolidated for me in my current life. And that's not a bad thing.

Have you ever recorded and shared how your day goes down? Or analyzed the changes in your own creative rituals and schedules? It's bizarre and very revealing.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Idiosyncratic Routine: Three Process Videos

Idiosyncratic Routine. This is the title of that feminist comic in Chasing Amy, and I’ve always loved the phrase.

I want to apply it to artists. You may know that I’m a little obsessed with process and process videos. I’m hooked on videos that show how artists do what they do, and especially love it if they comment on their work.

Here are three I’ve been loving and thinking about lately.

1.“Meghan Willis: Stitched Fervour,” Tsurubride as seen by Aaron Tsuru

This one showcases the work of embroidery artist Meghan Willis (ask Tsurbride) as she prepares for a show in Columbus. The video is made by her husband, Aaron, who is a talented photographer/filmmaker himself. We get to see her as she selects one of Aaron’s photos, chooses colors and fabric, and paints and embroiders a specific piece. I love Meghan and Aaron (both as artists, and people); it’s so great to see an artist from the perspective of someone so close to her. 

    


2. Process—the painting of “Plastic,” by Robin Eley

The most straightforward video of the bunch, this is nonetheless mesmerizing in Robin Eley’s detail and care. The painting moves from something unrecognizable to something breathtakingly gorgeous. OH, that final product!!!




3.  “Mark Wagner: Money is Material” by The Avant/Garde Diaries

“For a collage artist, destruction is the first necessary step.” We first hear Mark Wagner’s voice about a minute into the piece, and he drops that enticing phrase into our laps. The directors have made an exquisite short video on this artist—we see a lovely balance of material, process, commentary, and finished product. (Sidenote: I wrote this poem inspired by Wagner’s work back in January).


 

Monday, July 22, 2013

The Storialist Turns Five

Today, I celebrate five years of posting every weekday at The Storialist. It feels like a significant milestone, especially now, just one and a half weeks from the release of my book (yay!!).

If I could go back to July of 2008, when I first started The Storialist, I’d tell myself: “Hey, you only have to write every day for four years, and then your book will be accepted for publication! One year from that, anyone (including readers of this blog!) will be able to hold this book, and read it in their home, on the bus, in the bathtub, or before falling asleep. All you have to do is make the commitment to write every weekday for five years, and this will happen.”

Honestly, I might have been scared off by the sound of that (the amount of time and work). But now, I want to say it to you, all of you artists and writers and makers. All you have to do is make a commitment to your work, to sharing it and becoming an active member of your community, and to being open to how you will grow and change.

A hard lesson: nothing will happen before it can happen. We are impatient for results, for success, for a limited view of what we think the end is.

But then we miss the process. We miss the failures, the shifts, the wonderful results that are unpredictable because they look nothing like books or awards. And when we are immersed in process, our goals change.

I have valued so much connecting with readers, with fellow creatives, with artists and thinkers of every genre. To live attentively, and to be able to throw inspiration to one another across the weird, friendly abyss that is the internet....I feel so fortunate and grateful for this.

Thank you for reading! Keep making what you make. And please share it with me (and others!). If you haven’t yet jumped in to the project that is calling your name--now is the time.

Today's poem is sparked by an image from....guess who? 



Previous anniversaries:
July 2008
July 2009
July 2010
July 2011
July 2012

Friday, July 12, 2013

Spider Solitaire?


No, it’s not a game of spider solitaire, but my next poetry manuscript begging me for some attention (along with one of my cats, Roy--he’s “helping” me). This is, apparently, my method for organizing a book...

Most of my energy has been focused on In the Kettle, the Shriek...there’s a release party planned here in Columbus (on August 3rd! If you live nearby, you’re invited!), and the #kettleshriek contest has been in full swing (just one more day to get those entries in).

I’m loving all of these fun projects this summer, although I’m not good at working on them all simultaneously. Instead, I just rotate my energy on one at a time (two hours on one thing, an hour on another). I envy all the talented multi-taskers of the world!

Any tricks for toggling between projects? What are you working on this week?

Friday, June 28, 2013

On Creativity: Kristina Marie Darling and Carol Guess

In the wake of this week’s exciting victories toward equality thanks to working together (onward, friends!), I can think of no better time to share this interview with Kristina Marie Darling and Carol Guess.

Their collaborative book of poems, X Marks the Dress: A Registry, has been ricocheting around my brain since I first read it a few weeks ago. With the energy of a feisty poltergeist, these poems disturb scenes of intimacy, ceremony and seeming domestic bliss. The book calls itself “a registry,”--yes, we are skirting (pardon the pun) the issue of weddings and marriage. But when I read these poems, I was struck by how intriguingly they explore and question identity (especially the identity of individuals within a relationship). This book forces us to wonder--how do we change when we are in love, when we are married or engaged? How do love and desire impact who we are?

(NOTE: After the interviews with both Darling and Guess below, read “23-Piece Knife Set With Block” and “Pizza,” both of which appear with permission of the authors. Order your copy of the book here.)

 

Q: While reading X Marks the Dress: A Registry, I noticed how fond these poems are of destruction and escape. Identities slip in and out, genders blur and reverse, garments unravel, mementos are smashed or burned. I got the feeling that you and your co-writer were trying to locate something or someone. 

In your poems (for this book, or for any of your work), how do you interact with what you are writing about? In your poems, are you chasing your ideas, or are they chasing you? How would you illustrate or perform what it feels like for you to write?


A: Kristina Marie Darling:  When I write the poetry that I consider my best work, I never feel as though I've planned out the text, and I don't ever know how the project will unfold.  Rather, I feel as though I'm discovering the text as I write it.  I'm constantly testing the boundaries and limitations of what I've created, and doing my best to uncover its possibilities, some of which I'm aware of, and some of which I'm not. 

Friday, June 29, 2012

On Creativity (featuring Anthea Krook)

Issue 7 of Spoonful
Anthea Krook is a freelance designer, illustrator, editor, and writer based in Sydney, Australia, and her creative energy and enthusiasm are contagious. We first knew one another through our blogs (hers is For the Visionaries) and an overlapping project (the now-defunct Mankind Mag). In 2009, Anthea asked me to contribute to her zine, Spoonful: a happiness companion, and ever since, it has been an absolute pleasure to know her and work with her. She describes Spoonful as a “short, inspiring little publication which, in light of our insanely busy lives, can be finished by the end of a train ride.”

Her work is delicate, smart, and subtle; most of all, I appreciate how unabashedly she celebrates the ordinary (and how pretty and inviting she makes it look). As viewers and readers, we can’t help but join in!



Illustration for Spoonful

Q: How would you describe your relationship with your viewer/reader? Do you picture your work being received while you make it, or before, or after? How does this affect your process?

A: Well, I think my answer criss-crosses and contrasts between the way I write and the way I draw or design....

When I write, I seem to have this inner-critic or perception of what a reader might be thinking as they read the words I write. It is a constant, ever-present audience that reads with me as I work. I change, edit and shift to try to impress them... engage them... seduce them into what it is I'm trying to say. It's probably silly, but I can't seem to help myself. I reread what I write often, too... editing yet again, so that my reader can fluently and immediately get what I'm trying to say (that is my aim, anyway!).

I have a different relationship with the viewer when I design or draw, though... The funny thing about truly immersing myself in the creative process is that everything else falls away, prospective audience included. I become completely drawn into the detail of the moment--the angle of a line, the shift in colour-ways or gradients, the overall composition of a piece--so that only when I am finished, can my relationship in my mind with the viewer begin. Often I will finish something and stand back and realise it is not good enough for my reader. It does not inherently have the spark or beauty or idea I am trying to express to my audience and so I go back to begin again... I think my relationship with the viewer/reader is something which pushes me further and makes me want to create work that captures something deep within them.

Works that I feel truly have a potential to spark something in someone else are the ones I feel proud of at the end of the day :). So the viewer is an important part. I confess, part of me feels guilty about that a little... like I should be a 'free' 'true' artist obsessed and only caring about where it is the WORK feels it should go... but so much pleasure for me is connected to finally sharing a work, that I am unable to be so focused and forget the 'other'.

Interestingly, if I'm writing a poem (which I write few and far between) it is more of an immersive emotional process, much like drawing or painting for me. I delve into the beauty and brush strokes that language, full stops and line breaks have to offer, and often I've forgotten all about the audience until right at the end, when I polish things to try to ensure (& hope) that the reader will feel as I have felt and be able to immerse themselves as I have in the literary moment of writing and experiencing.

From a series of bejeweled notebooks created by Anthea.

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Note: All images are courtesy of the artist.
The Storialist. All rights reserved. © Maira Gall.