Frustration

I tell my young writers, “Don’t focus on the product. Work through the process.” This is how we grow as writers.

And, yet, this morning, I can’t seem to follow my own advice.

Each Thursday, I participate in what Elizabeth calls “An Art Experience.” She offers a small group of us the chance to explore various media in whatever way we choose. She challenges us to let go and urges us to take risks. This is what I tell teachers I work with all the time. This should come easily, I think.

But it doesn’t.

As I mix my watercolor paints, trying to get the perfect ocean blue or pastel green, I feel my anxiety and frustration. “It’s not working,” I think, as I struggle to find the comfortable space between the sky and sea or tree and leaf. My house looks like a tent, and my chicken looks frozen in time, ready to be covered with yellow sugar and placed in an Easter basket. Not what I’d envisioned.

Elizabeth smiles. She knows that continued playing and putting brush to paper (or charcoal to canvas) will eventually allow me to find myself in my art, to create whatever it is I am striving for. She applauds when I pull out my colored pencils and draw on a background of watercolor and grins when I decide to dribble water on the charcoal “just to see what happens.”

Vygotsky says “children tend to create only for themselves, whereas adults create both for themselves and for the world in which they live.” I wonder if this is the block, the filter through which adults try to create. We fear judgment.

Elizabeth reassures me today, and I try again. I think she would agree with this quote from a Scottish education site:

Creativity is not just about special people doing special things. We all have the potential to be creative….a skill that needs to be developed.

Writing

So far, I am a failure. I managed 1000 or so words for NaNoWriMo, and then decided I hated my plot. I haven’t been able to get back on track, and it’s killing me.

As much as I loved the idea of writing a novel, I don’t know if I can. Or if I want to.

I think I may have to switch gears and write something about middle-schoolers, writing, learning, or thinking–and ways all of that can come together. But, as I’ve said so many times recently, failure isn’t all bad, is it? We can learn from our failures if we reflect on them.

At this point, I am still swirling around in the mud. As soon as I come up for air, I’ll see if I can regain my focus and figure out what my problem is.

Change

Playing with my creative side. That’s the excuse I use when I change the theme of my blog.

It doesn’t matter though, really. This blog has lost any semblance of organization and consistency. It has become my place to collect, think, and dream. About what’s next.

Downtown Writing Studio. That may be the name I choose for what seems to be rolling around in my head as a potential way to do what I love to do. A place for middlers (ages 10 to 14?) to work on their writing. A place for those who think they can’t and those who know they have to. I’m envisioning small groups, reading clubs, day-long workshops? First around my dining room table and next in a comfy, warm space downtown. Maybe a nonprofit eventually?