Daily bit of creativity, #014: B2B2B

My back-to-back-to-back (B2B2B) book is finished. It’s the second one I’ve made. I’m not satisfied with it and so am probably going to make another, one with more continuity to it.

All the pages in the book are made from paper I use to clean my brushes, to experiment with rubber stamps, handwriting, inks, etc. Once the paper is “full,” I pick it up, roll it up, save it for something like this. I then put down a fresh sheet of paper on the work counter and the process begins again.

So what you’re seeing are a few pages from the book, including the front cover. The page in the second photo is made from a piece of paper I wrapped around some rusty things and let sit outside in the rain for a few days. I added the four little squares there on the left. The number “7” is a stencil I added after I’d cut the paper to size.

The people I’ve shown this to have all mentioned how tactile it is, how the paper looks old, is thick, and is actually kind of soft. The more this book is “fondled,” the better it’s going to get! So I have it sitting out on top of a wooden cabinet in the living room, just so people will touch it and flip through it.

I have two more projects I’m working on: a handmade book about Kyoto, and an assemblage piece of sorts that I’ll show you soon.

P.S. The colorful mobile I made last week is no longer hanging from a tree. It’s been relocated to the deck so that we can see it more clearly. The background still consists of green trees, so the “feel” is the same. Having fun!

©Carol Leigh
All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh.

Lindbergh: Channeled Whelk

I continue on to chapter two of Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. The chapter is entitled “Channeled Whelk.”

She writes from the perspective of a woman in the 1950s and how her life is a series of distractions — spouse, children, housekeeping, cooking, doctor appointments, school conferences, car-pooling, laundry, cleaning, social obligations, etc.

Today our lives are all that and more with the distractions of the Internet, Facebook, blogs,  national and international news, e-mail, jobs and lack of jobs, television 24/7, all info all the time.

The quest for balance and simplification was strong in the 1950s, a thousand percent greater today.

She gazes at the simplicity of a channeled whelk, a seashell, a perfect and simple and beautiful home for first a snail and then a hermit crab. Now empty, but perfect, it inspires her to pare her life down somewhat, to see what she can do without, rather than accumulating more.

As I read her words, I wonder. Is the “accumulation syndrome” something we all have when younger but which then becomes the “simplify mantra” as we age? Have we seen so much, absorbed so much, experienced so much that we’re “full,” and the concept of simplification and balance is thus so appealing now that we’re older? Perhaps (and hopefully) wiser?

I’d ponder this a bit more, but I’ve got to check Facebook, read my latest e-mails, watch a basketball game, critique some photos, check out Pinterest, help fix dinner, create a photomontage, upload a few pictures to Flickr, and then maybe figure out how to simplify my life . . .

©Carol Leigh

What I'm reading . . .

I remember reading Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh many, many years ago and enjoying it, so when my friend Laura began reading it, I ordered the book and am reading along with her.

The first chapter barely fills two pages, but its words strike a chord.

She’s on Captiva Island in Florida, alone on vacation for two weeks. She says the mind “begins to drift, to play, to turn over . . . like those lazy waves on the beach.” She talks of “chance treasures” the waves might bring in and warns not to be “too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient” for those treasures. “Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches.”

I think of my photo of a starfish that a large wave washed in. Patiently waiting in the sand for a wave to take it back out, it leaves slight indentations below and around it, showing us how it has moved softly in concert with smaller, less powerful waves.

And, in time, the starfish will slowly be washed back to its original habitat, will affix itself to one boulder or another, awaiting whatever new adventure the next strong wave may provide.

For me, this chapter encourages me to slow down, to let things come to me of their own accord rather than me impatiently rummaging about, digging in the sand. And could it apply to creating photomontages? To perhaps not force them so much?

And it reminds me of a morning I spent on Sanibel Island, right next to Captiva. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but there was a veritable parade of shell-seekers moving past, some with flashlights strapped to their heads, the better to find, spot, and secure treasures before others snapped them up.

This seemingly peaceful activity — beachcombing — had an undercurrent of anxiety, urgency, and acquisition — completely the opposite of what Ms. Lindbergh writes about. I look back on this memory with a certain amount of humor and a certain amount of sadness — but mostly humor. I mean, really? Headlamps?

©Carol Leigh 

A reading moratorium . . .

Well, isn’t this interesting? The next section (on page 87) in The Artist’s Way is about not reading for a week. “If you feel stuck in your life or in your art, few jump starts are more effective than a week of reading deprivation.” That’s what I was reading this morning.

Fast-forward to this evening when I pick up the book World Enough & Time, where I’m at page 139, with a chapter header: “The Joy of Reading.” The author relates her love of books, that they provide "joy and connection and escape.”

I’ve always had at least two books going, often four. But I’ve never had one book tell me to stop reading the others!

What to do, oh, what to do?

Well, I am going to go on a reading hiatus, just not today. But doesn’t it sound interesting? No reading newspapers, online news, blogs, Facebook, no e-mail, no magazines, no crossword puzzles, etc. BUT NO BOOKS?! (Fanning face.) That’s the hardest.

I’ll let you know when I begin. And I’ll let you know how it goes . . . After all, the rules say don't read. They don't say anything about writing . . .

©Carol Leigh

"The Artist's Way"

My latest work: "Amida Buddha Postcard Collage"
which I just uploaded to Fine Art America this morning.

This book has been on my shelf for at least 11 years now, and I keep vowing to work through it, but I never seem to get past the first chapter or so. It's The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron and it encourages you to accept your artistry and enhance your creativity. It's a tad "woo woo" for me, but this time around I'm giving it a decent go.

Part of Ms. Cameron's philosophy (well, it's a huge part of her philosophy) is to write three pages of what she calls "morning pages," three pages of anything you wish to scribble down. Even if all you're writing is "I don't know what to write. I don't know what to write."

Gotta say, as much as I love writing, I don't relish doing these three pages every morning. But I've done them now every day for more than a month, so I'm proud that I'm hanging in there.

Have there been any big revelations? Any huge breakthroughs? I'm not sure yet. I know that I have gotten some good ideas, but then I always get ideas, whether I'm writing every morning or not. In fact, I have so many ideas that I'll need numerous lifetimes to carry them out.

What I want is clarity, a more solid direction for me and my art. But I get bored going in just one direction. Who wants to spend their life doing just one thing? I blame it on being a Gemini... I cast my fate to the stars -- it's totally out of my hands!

Anyway, just wanted to mention what I'm reading and why. It's fun having all these books around to be picked up at times throughout the day. I read a few pages, nod sagely, make a few notes in my "idea book," and then move on, refreshed.

So I hope I can make it all the way through The Artist's Way this time, even though I find myself complaining, as I write my morning pages, how I could be at the computer or in the studio actually making something right now, rather than sitting on my butt writing, writing, writing . . .

How about you? Anybody else working their way through this book? (I know you have, Laura Lein-Svencner, and I'm enjoying reading your blog where you're talking about it.) And is it putting you in a different space? Is it elevating your artistry, your sense of yourself as an artist? Please say yes, otherwise I'm doomed to harboring 12 weeks of resentment as I grumble my way through this book!

©Carol Leigh

What's on my bookshelf . . .

"I wrote at least a thousand words a day every day from the age of twelve on." --Ray Bradbury

If Ray Bradbury could write 1,000 words a day, then we can take at least one photo a day, can't we? It's never been so easy . . . we have DSLRs, point-and-shoot cameras, cellphone cameras, cameras in our iPads . . .

The best way to improve your photography is to take at least one decent photo a day. And post it somewhere where people can see it. Posting keeps your motivation going. And, even if you last just 30 days, it's fun (and instructive) to look over that small body of work. It may motivate you even more, who knows?

The best way to get better at something is to do something . . . every freakin' day!

©Carol Leigh

P.S. This Zen in the Art of Writing by Bradbury is a terrific book. It's not something I sit down and read cover to cover, rather something I read a little bit, put the book down, a few days later read some more, etc. And so much of what he says about writing applies to art in general, such as, "...if you are writing without zest, without gusto, without love, without fun, you are only half a writer." What if we were to substitute some words, saying, "...if you are creating without zest, without gusto, without love, without fun, you are only half an artist?" That Bradbury guy might just be on to something . . .

Who are your friends?

I'm reading Ray Bradbury's Zen in the Art of Writing and this snippet caught my eye (and my heart):

"Who are your friends? Do they believe in you? Or do they stunt your growth with ridicule and disbelief? If the latter, you haven't friends. Go and find some."

This is the kind of thing I wish I'd understood thirty years ago!

Carol Leigh

Link: One more good reason we need physical books in our lives . . .

Yes, I have (and use) a Kindle, but to me nothing beats the feel, look, and smell of a real, live book. Books offer such possibility . . . each one's a gift, a surprise, a secret revealed. Here's one more secret some books offer us: paintings that are revealed only when the pages of the book are fanned out somewhat. Here's a quick video that shows you what I mean — much better than I'm describing it:

http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2013/09/fore-edge-book-paintings/

Carol Leigh