Welcome

The inspirations of an artist

Many authors agree with me that the first few weeks of writing a new novel or any kind of created work is the most painful of experiences. Yet, it’s the most thrilling as well. And it’s one of the very few times when I feel a 'God complex', or the touch of the divine, feeling what it must be like to literally create something out of nothing.

How exactly do my characters, my setting and plot appear out of the void, as it seems? Amy Tan addresses the subject brilliantly in her talk: ' Where Does Creativity Hide?' And I believe, as she does, that there is never a complete answer to this question. It's a question that my writing students have often asked me as well. They would like a pat answer, a formulaic process to put them at ease like a road map on their journey, pointing out and directing each step they take along the way. And I could give them one, such as telling them to make a skeletal outline or keep a diary by their bed. But I would be cheating, as I don't do these things myself. I never have, as I’ve found them such ‘finite’ attempts to reach a more ‘infinite’ quality I seek with my work. For me, the inspiration has always come as a Eureka! – a flash of brilliance - that comes upon me irrespective of where I am, who I’m with or what I'm doing. And I do admit that having something to write on is handy when this happens.

My first novel, Boulder Blues, was written as to remember a past that had remained with a lot of black holes still to be filled in, as well as a prompting by others to tell the tale of those experiencing, trapped in and living through the Counterculture movement that hit the '60s-'70s youth culture like a tsunami. It wasn’t a biographical piece by any means. Yet, it captured the essence of the time I’d lived through as a young adult, my cultural surroundings and the people I mingled with as a performing folk musician and artist commune dweller. I did, however, want to preserve memories of a few very zany characters I’d known and loved, and who’ve since passed on. I wanted to resurrect their characters by giving them and their antics life in my fictitious tale. It also brought me so much joy mixed with occasional bittersweet memory to do so. I didn’t actually begin writing Boulder Blues until the death of an old boyfriend, a Vietnam veteran, whose name one day appeared out of the blue in the local newspaper. It was then that my characters and scenes seemed to come out of the walls and clutter my life, bringing flashes of memory with them. Sometimes I almost felt schizophrenic with running dialogues, as, in particular scenes, I found my characters running away with me. And quite often they just wouldn’t shut up! Magical experiences such as this continued to occur until this story was told.

So, was I creating my own life in this way? I don’t really have an answer to that. All I know is that, when this Eureka! happened, I was at a place in my soul where I was willing to let go and give my imagination free reign. I gave my characters voice and allowed them to speak to and through me. I even took on their beliefs for at time, as I truly relived the ‘60s culture while I was writing one of its many stories. In that way, I could almost call it historical though the tale itself was, again, purely fiction. Yet, during the process of creating something out of nothing, I discovered a buried youth that I had let out to play again. And that experience was a fantastic one! For a time, I had merged with my characters and become a part of the story itself.

In such away, I believe we authors tell our tales to bring meaning to our lives. And, thus, we create something out of nothing.

© Sherry Marie Gallagher 2010

Is creative energy dampened by commercialism?

To me it seems this particular topic can be a big struggle for every artist who likes to create for the sake of creating. Yet, when all is said and done, I've never met anyone who doesn't appreciate feedback. During the holiday season, especially, feelings are mixed while trying to sell one's product and/or receive kudos of recognition, whether one is a performing or fine artist, and not get caught up in the sense that worth is only by how it is measured and by whom. It's a dilemma for sure that requires a fine balance. I've even known musicians who've quit just when attention begins to reach an uncomfortable level, claiming it was interfering with their enjoyment of just gigging. Hmm, I can see their point, but....

© Sherry Marie Gallagher 2010

Comments:

Jacqui Binford-Bell: Yes, commercialism does get in the way of creativity from time to time. I was at a writer's workshop when a workshop leader brought up the topic of tithing. I was at the time a popular columnist with a small paper and could write essays that seemed to automatically be 1000 words. Problem was staying fresh.

This writer suggested you needed to write for free something that did not fit in the frame of what you were paid to write.

I remembered that as I began to get known for a certain style of painting. So rather than stop myself from painting something that does not fit within my usual style I go ahead and do it as a tithe to my creative muse. Like the little hand painted Christmas decorations I did recently. I do not intend to sell them under any circumstances. I did them as an offering as it were.

We need to deviate from the $$$$ from time to time and just play. I like January and February for that. And sometimes that play carries my work to a new level and sometimes I burn it as an offering to some goddess. But the act of play is never wasted.

A musician friend says jazz players have known that for ages. It is why they jam with friends.

Shers: I've often wondered how columnists stay 'fresh', as you say - cartoonists too, who really have to BE funny. To me that would be so exhausting. As a storyteller, I think I'm at my best when not pushed. When the creative spirit fills and moves me I just pour out thoughts, words, images and feelings, which is what I like best. If another appreciates and/or buys my work, I'm always left with a 'child at Christmas' feeling. I'm astounded. And, knowing my personality so well after all these years, I don't really see that it’s really ever going to change.

Yet, what saddens me most is that artists have to struggle so with the pedaling of their art to just have their basic needs met. And as another mentioned, this is when we're driven to give into our more practical natures and make compensations for the lack of 'ca-ching'. Only rarely are artists subsidised for their work. There are those, yes, who have been given notoriety for their talents. Some are lucky and others are just plain creative craftsmen and craftswomen. Yet, too often the majority of talent is left underpaid and ignored. I'm all for more community support for artists everywhere. Some people have the slogan: Shop (fill in country)!  I say: Shop our local artists!

Jacqui Binford-Bell: And I think that sort of happened here, Shers, when the economy crashed. Those that could still afford to purchase art began to buy from local artists they knew. And a lot of our customers were buying art instead of Wal-Mart stuff.  It certainly helped this local artist.

Shers: That's wonderful news, but in Holland it seems the opposite is true. Here art and the humanities appear to be some of the last things that people are currently investing in. Rather, they're cutting way back on their life choices. Class attendance in the arts and humanities has also tapered back while people attempt to work more at existing jobs, menial or not, to bring in currency that perhaps has been lost on stock dips and realty investments. Work hours have been cut back as well as pay in some places, and/or extended with heavier workloads that are not as well compensated as before in others. Not to go unmentioned is the continually rising unemployment, which doesn't include the short-term need for workers during holiday season. Jobs being made redundant and contracts not extended elsewhere are still very much a part of our daily European news.
All this economic disarray affects the way individuals invest their time and money. So, the question for many artists is do I regardless of the economic situation? And, if I do, do I still invest in quality regardless of pay or the lack there of? It's a hard question and quite often resulting in discouragement and depression, which is enough to dampen the creative spirit as well.

Through the artist’s looking glass

I've recently been amassing stories, poems and songs that I’ve collected over the years. And I’ve done so with the full knowledge that such composites are typically not best sellers. However, the magic of doing so is in the discovery of a personal theme pulsating throughout – of common threads of ideas, literary symbolism and ponderings. Such awareness can be absolutely magical! But not only has this discovery been interesting, it has also proved slightly disturbing. How so? There are many areas in our being, I have found, that have grown irritated by an unwillingness to let go. Be it the memory of a loved one, personal triumph, defeat or even the inability to recognise and let go of the passing of youth, such memories are those we cling to until they fester within, such as what physically happens to one suffering from diverticulitis, which is a physical blockage in the colon.

During the process of accumulating what I call 'creative expression in written form', I've recognised so acutely all the places that I too have been lingering in and not letting go of. In a nonlinear world, you might say that this is where I dwell. And these are images played and replayed like slides and film reels of people, places and things that are no longer a part of my reality. Yet, they exist just the same as if they are genuinely there. I can see them, touch them, feel and even sometimes taste them. And they have taken up enormous 'virtual space'. Simply said, these are what the mind’s eye sees of lost youth and loved one’s passed on, even situations run and rerun that are no longer happening and haven’t occurred in a very long time. Honestly, there is nothing wrong with a healthy dose of rehashing the past now and again. It is the very bulk of personal history and storytelling after all. Yet, such feelings and emotions surrounding memory can be blinding, even blocking us from moving on and experiencing the fullness of our present life as we prepare for and anticipate what is around the corner.

In so many ways, I’ve found this act of gathering personal work into a cumulative body an enlightening experience. It has allowed me to see with clarity where I’ve been ‘dwelling’ – perhaps too long – and enabled me to hopefully let go of the virtual spaces that are truly no longer a part of my reality.

©Shers Gallagher 2010