Well… it’s been a busy time since the last time I wrote anything here. Both of my kids had babies – beautiful, healthy, smart, strong babies who are thriving in very different upbringing. It is like a lesson in behavioural psychology to observe how there is no one correct way to raise a child. It is an honour to watch them grow, even if it is from long-distance.
My dear friend, who also happens to be my ex-husband, almost died this summer. We all spent many weeks sitting vigil at his bedside, getting the chance to say our goodbyes, only to have him say to the universe “I’m not ready to go yet, thanks” and rallied to the extent that he is back in his home, taking visitors, living – mostly – independently, and exuding gratitude.
I have deliberately slowed down the amount of work I take on. Not so many gigs pushing heavy boxes out of trucks and into arenas. Not so many shifts working front of house at the theatres. Not so much stage management any more. Great! Gives me lots more time to write. That second novel isn’t going to write itself, now, is it? Except… Except…
What do you do when the words stop flowing? Looking back, I was so very lucky with Circling Butterfly. It really did basically write itself. I describe it to people as if it was a movie that I was tasked with transcribing as I watched it in my mind. The people, the physical world they inhabited, the action, and the emotions were all there on the screen for me and all I had to do was write them down.
Not so much for this one. Sure I get little scenes, which I catch when they arise and quickly write. But the flow just isn’t there. And I have tried a lot of ways to get it to come. I tried establishing a writing routine – either staring at the screen or stream-of-consciousness random writing – every day. I tried letting it go and only writing when the urge arose (not so good). I have tried different locations (surprisingly a busy Starbucks often proved the most successful, but I can find any excuse in the world to not get up off the couch, get in the car, and head down there. You know, the whole getting dressed, driving, finding parking, hoping for a table not too close to gangs of teenagers out of school for lunch…).
Now this doesn’t mean I don’t love to write. Do you? When an idea begins to formulate, and you know it’s good, and you don’t want to lose it, so you scramble to find a pen and paper, or open up Notes on your phone, and – yes – the words just flow. Even if you never use that paragraph, or that page, for anything. It just was a pleasure to feel those creative juices percolate.
I started writing in a Substack (sandycumberland.substack.com) and that has proven to be a great place for those brief moments of clarity and percolation. I will throw a couple of them here onto the site in the next few week. They are all pretty random, but I hope people find them entertaining and maybe sometimes a little insightful.
So, what do you do? Are you a writer, or maybe a visual artist of some kind, or a musician. Whatever your creative output, do you find yourself stalled, stuck, unmotivated to practice your craft? What tricks have you found to remind yourself that this is a very good thing for you to be doing? If you have hit the “I used to do this thing, but I stopped a long time ago” spot, is it perhaps time to try again? Maybe go back to that thing you loved for so long, way back. Or pick up a different medium – a cello instead of the piano, sculpting instead of painting, poetry instead of prose.
For a long time, I thought everyone needed some kind of artistic outlet. I have come to realize that it is, in fact, just a small band of us weirdos for whom the creative juices, whether flowing or jammed, determine to a large extent our mental and emotional well-being. I know I feel better when I write. Even now, I feel more open, more light, for having written this down.
I’d love to hear from the rest of you weirdos out there. What is your creative passion? Do you get stuck? What do you do then? Meantime, I’ll be here, or maybe at Starbucks, gently unraveling the sorrows and the joys of the as-yet-unnamed new novel. Using the same concepts as I did for Circling Butterfly (which, by the way, is available at Amazon or to be ordered through your friendly neighbourhood bookshop) I have entered into the world of La Boheme, exploring the lives of the cast of characters who love and support Mimi and Rodolfo in their tragic tale. I hope you will stay with me on this journey. I will post updates here, as well as on my Substack. And you will be among the first to hear when it is finally a finished project and is ready to make its way out of my heart and into yours.
In the meantime, stay well and keep creating.
