So I’m on Official Non-Emergency Pirate Queen Holiday this week.
As you might imagine, there has been much journaling.
Thought you might like a peek at some of the bits and pieces in the Pirate Queen Vacation Spiral Notebook.
I hope it mostly makes sense.
The part I’m putting here started out as entries in the Book of Me, and then turned into something else.
The question/challenge.
The thing I’m trying to figure out:
What do the most creative periods in my life have in common?
I’m interested both in determining the defining conditions that these periods share and what happens to me when I’m in them.
These creative periods. What do I know about being in them?
I invent.
And there is an enormous amount of reflection. An enormous amount of working on my stuff.
I come up with new techniques. I sleep well. I bring things into the world.
Have organizational impulses.
Aesthetic opinions become stronger.
I am, for the most part, relaxed and happy.
I am in a state of flow.
Not the best term, maybe. But really, all the words I can think of that people use to describe this thing (“peak performance”) are kind of depressing.
What happens is this: things come together. I am the process and the do-er and the observer. It is sparkly.
What do I know about the setting and the elements involved?
Or: What are my own personal ideal conditions for this kind of creativity?
- away from internet
- not working (or at least not working regular hours)
- lots of walking (especially the kind that doesn’t involve interruptions — in a park, in the woods, around a lake, on a ship, places with minimum traffic)
- plenty of non-walking exercise (yoga, Shiva Nata, dance, movement, stairs)
- lots of time outdoors (especially near trees or water)
- time for writing and thinking
- time for napping
Times in my life that were major periods of creative output:
1) Working in the orchard.
2) The infamous Zebra period.
3) My year in Berlin.
4) The three Pirate Queen vacations.
These are the times in my life when I’ve done my best writing, my best thinking, had my best ideas.
These are also the times in which I have had all or most of my personal conditions of creativity met.*
* Note: I am not in any way implying that these are THE conditions of creativity. Your own Book of You will be different from mine.
What I know (and need to remember):
There may be more elements I’ve forgotten.
And I may not actually need all of these to be in play. But: the more conditions met, the greater the state of creative happiness.
Sometimes I tend to think that these are luxury conditions.
But they aren’t. In two of these scenarios I was unemployed and barely getting by.
However, it is much easier to create when survival stuff isn’t at the fore.
The elements are more important than the form.
Is that true?
What if my dream job is not my dream job?
The orchard job was the best job I’ve ever had. It’s been sixteen years since then and I still love those trees. Even though they’re gone now.
Climbing all day.
Alone. With steady hands and rich smells.
Writing in the evenings. Crawling exhausted into bed.
Perfect.
But I didn’t have a Book of Me then. And so: what if I’ve been wrong?
What if it wasn’t the orchard-ness but the elements and the conditions?
What if movement + tired + smells + outdoors + time + free wandering mind is the combination? Or close to it?
What if I can have all of that without having to find the orchard?
I need to recreate the orchard without the orchard.
And in order to do that I need to take this to more of an extreme. I need to plan a sabbatical.
But it can’t be called that.
And it needs to meet these conditions of creative flow.
And I’m pretty sure it needs to be away from Portland.
At the very least, I need access to outdoor exercise that is not hampered/interrupted by people.
This is going to be interesting, since I have no idea how this is going to work.
And that’s where I’ll stop for now.
Most of the stuff I wrote this week was a) super practical problem-solving biggification stuff, b) theoretical philosophical musings or c) emotional destuckifying and talking to monsters.
This was the one bit that wasn’t any of those things. Not sure why that’s the piece I wanted you guys to have. But that’s where I ended up. And maybe it will end up being useful in some unexpected way.
Comment zen for today.
I’m not interested in advice. Still in processing mode.
But if you have notes for the Book of You or stuff you’re working on or reading this made you think about your own relationship to creativity, that’s awesome. And you’re welcome to share any and all of that.
Because you never know when where you are ends up being useful to someone else reading.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. Blowing kisses from far away.
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working in an orchard sounds almost meditative–I’m sure it wasn’t, but the elements that you describe bring that idea to mind. Thank you.
I… need to think about this. I have all these ideas about what I think I need to have a huge amount of creative output, but I’m not sure their all really necessary or even helpful.
For instance, I like to envision myself on retreat somewhere with nothing to do but write and think. Last summer the conditions were similar to that since I didn’t have a job, but I spent a lot of my time waffling.
Must ponder…
.-= Monique Rio´s last post … Weekly Check-in- Books- Careers- Time- and Stuff =-.
Such brilliant timing. I was just scribbling about creativity and this post has been super useful. Especially when I turned it around and explored the uncreative periods in my life.
Here’s to creative sovereignty!
Havi, the conditions that support my creativity are similar to yours.
Here are some of the essential elements:
Long stretches of unstructured time and space, when I’m not responsible for anyone or anything but myself. Physical movement. Being in Nature. Solitude. Deep listening for the whispers and murmurs of what wants to emerge. Writing. Rest, sleep, relaxation, play. A rhythm of inhale and exhale, activity and daydreaming. Freedom from agendas, my own or anyone else’s.
Paradoxically–and there’s always a paradox to these things–a deadline on the horizon can also be helpful, provided I’ve built in this unfettered time and space before it, to step into creative no-time.
Lovely that you’re thinking about this in terms of the Big Book of You.
Wishing you a vacation that supports all of your brilliance.
Love, Hiro
Oh My Goodness.
I’ve been pondering this for myself all summer but couldn’t even come up with the words for questions to ask myself.
Thanks for giving me some vocabulary that I can use.
Happy vacation to you.
.-= Katie Hart´s last post … Yoga for People Who Dont Do Yoga – 1 =-.
Your bit about “things come together” makes me wonder whether these times are just the negative image of Yeats’ “The Second Coming”… things come together, the center holds… that’s what it said to me, anyway 🙂
Havi, your orchard sounds delightful. And I suspect that like Hiro, I have similar creativity conditions. I spend a LOT of my time indoors these days, and not just indoors but pretty much in one of four places: at my desk, in bed, in front of the counters/sink in the kitchen, and in the bathroom. And I wonder why I’m feeling stifled and stagnant! (At least I’ve been able to open the windows recently. That helps a bit.)
I honestly had forgotten about my Book of Me until this post. Thank you for reminding me! Especially since I have a BUNCH of stuff to put into it. 🙂
.-= Chris Anthony´s last post … Everyday delight =-.
I had a moment of bing in the shower today where I realized one reason I’m having so much trouble working on what is calling me is that it currently doesn’t have a “home” or “purpose” like the rabbit and cat pictures that the gallery would take when they are finished. My creativity flourishes when I don’t get bogged down in the “this must be the best idea ever” swamp, and just allow myself to play.
I have been reading “The Confident Creative” and “Kick Ass Creativity” the past two weeks and letting myself just have time to play. It’s been wonderful.
I totally grok recreating the orchard without the orchard.
.-= Andi´s last post … Drawings Drawings Everywhere =-.
I spent a summer in college doing research for a graduate student. Our office had a giant whiteboard, two floor to ceiling bookcases filled with paperbacks, and a cupboard full of snacks. It was the most productive work environment I’ve ever been in.
Every Friday, we’d hang a sign on the door, “Gone Fishing”. Then we’d drive out to the lake, drop poles in the water, and pretend that work didn’t exist. I learned something important about creativity that summer. Even if I have the best environment in the world, I can’t be creative in a vacuum.
Creativity requires a million inputs from a thousand sources that aren’t related to the thing I’m trying to create. Then it takes time and space for my brain to connect all the dots.
People who’ve watched me do this will say, “You’re goofing off. You’re not getting anything done.” That’s the input phase, where I read books and take walks and build tiny things only to throw them away. Then they’ll say, “You’re just laying there, staring at the ceiling! How is this work?” That’s connect the dots phase, where I practice shavasana and forget about the thing I’m trying to bring into this world.
And suddenly it’s there. The dots line up, and whatever it is, comes together in a frenzied burst of activity.
.-= Frank Mitchell´s last post … Towards quieter conversations =-.
@Frank Mitchell — I’m reminded of a story I once heard:
A famous painter was sitting quietly in his garden, eyes closed. His neighbor saw him there, and said, “Ah, monsieur, you are resting, yes?” And the painter replied, “No, I am not resting. I am working.”
Then, some time later, the same painter had set up his easel in the garden and was painting with great energy. The same neighbor encountered him, and said, “Monsieur! You are working!” The painter replied, “No. Now I am resting.”
.-= Kathleen Avins´s last post … Intention =-.
I have some very opposite, and some very similar, conditions for creativity.
I need that open mental space, free of worry, where I’m secure that things are taken care of and this time is time that doesn’t have a dozen other “shoulds” attached.
I need the internet, my chat programs, my friends, so that if I have a moment of stuck I can step away and think about something else for a few minutes before going back.
I need more than one thing in the works, so I can get Thing 1 to a stopping point and move on to Thing 2 while I still have that state of flow going.
I need sunshine, but outside, streaming in through the window in controlled amounts. I need silence from everyone else so I can hear my chosen music. I need bare feet and old clothes and the smell of paint.
Or, if I’m writing instead of painting, I like dark, night, cosy comfy bed and warm kitties curled up nearby.
I love having tea at hand, hot or iced, something sweet and energizing to sip. Sometimes a square or three of chocolate helps.
And if I’m drawing, I want the light and the music, but I don’t really have the best setup there yet… Something to ponder, how I can alter what I have to do what I need better, to set the stage for drawing or watercolors more thoroughly.
Good things to think about! Thank you for providing the space, and for sharing — especially for sharing permission to not be the same.
.-= Amy Crook´s last post … Weeble Wednesday- Monster Wearing Nurf Shoes =-.
What a great exercise, looking for commonalities. I totally get hung up on incidental details, so it would probably be good for me to do one of these big-time reflections on what BESIDES the obvious things worked during those periods: good mix of alone time/time with friends; sleep (that’s a given, ain’t it? although the production periods of creativity are characterized by little-to-no sleep); and…?
Also. A word that I like for that state is “thrum.” I think of a a perfectly-tuned guitar string being plucked and resonating exactly right with my heart, or of certain songs in exactly the right key that feel so right to sing along with, there’s no separation between me, my body and the song.
Hm. Maybe music is a constant, too.
.-= communicatrix´s last post … Linking up with Coudal =-.
Havi, yes. My soul kept nodding at your post.
The summer between my junior and senior year in college, I was taking two independent study classes (one in ceramics, one in sculpting), living alone, and working at a “gourmet” sweets store.
My routine involved getting up, walking to class, spending three hours sculpting in clay, then a walk home, lunch, then 4 or 5 hours dipping strawberries in chocolate and apples in caramel, then a walk home, dinner, then three hours throwing pots and mugs, then a walk home, bed.
I had very little contact with people socially – other than at work or in class – but even those times seemed more creatively meditative than anything else.
That summer I started learning about spices and cooking. It was the first time I’d lived alone. I drew a lot. I made pudding. 🙂 And it WAS sparkly. It felt magical and connected, like there was a beam of light shooting straight out of the top of my head to the heavens at all times. Even on the more “stuck” days.
I think those few months were my Orchards time. And I wonder if 11 years later I’d be able to re-create it, or if that’s what I’d even want.
Hm. These are good questions.
This post really got me thinking about my own conditions for creative work…
I’m just starting to think about this, but I’m reflecting on my last big creative project –
– it had a definite deadline (a performance date)
– but that deadline was WAY off when I first found out about the project (most of a year)
– I let it percolate in my head and heart for a long time before I really did anything
– I was forced to wait much longer then I wanted because of technical issues that had to be solved first…
-but while I was solving the tech problems I was also semiconsciously imagining and developing the form of the piece
– when it came time to actually create, it flowed
and even though I ended up having much less time to work on it then I would have liked, the results were really good. I’m really happy with my work on this.
Andy
.-= Andy Dolph´s last post … Under the Sky in an Inflatable Planetarium =-.
Ah yes. The being outside with the trees and the smell of fresh earth and blossoms while moving (and not gently walking- like doing hard weeding/planting work or walking fast or ‘playing’) resonated with me. I always seem to get flashes of creativity then. It can work indoors, but not as well. And I am happier being closer to the earth.
For me, having a single place to jot down & doodle ideas as they come and mix them up helps my creative brain goop. And calling this small journal affectionately my compost heap, where I generate a surprising mix of idea seedlings to take root helps as well. Before I didn’t do this at all and things just sort of stagnated and rotted in my brain.
I definitely think and work in flow wonderfully well without the constant glaring light of the computer + internet temptations. Something that I pretend to ignore.
But I also need periods of connection- not light fleeting connection, but real, deep connection with people that I see in real life during this creative high.
Sometimes lack of sleep oddly helps. It trips a circuit in my brain and I get the most unique insights.
Hmm. A lot of things to think about for my book of me. Thanks for bringing this up Havi. I never would have thought to really look into how the creative process works for me. I hope the Pirate Queen has a vacation befitting her station 🙂
.-= Erin´s last post … Journal Prompt 01- Mmmhmm- I love choc-mint brussels sprouts =-.
This is all very interesting. I strongly feel the need to find out more about my ideal conditions for creativity. I’m suspecting I’ve been keeping myself away from them, most probably kind of on purpose (ah, my old friend resistance…). Now, I think it would be useful to know more about the elements and conditions that would support my creativity so that I can see how I could create safety around them and experiment with dipping my toes in them. One more thing to bring to my next Shiva Nata session…
What a great topic to be thinking about. I’ll definitely think some more on this later, but here are my ponderings so far:
– The tiny beginnings of my creative ideas seem to appear when there’s water involved: in the shower, doing the dishes, staring at the waves of the sea.
– My creative ideas are brilliant in my head, but not so much when I try to make them tangible outside of my head. Maybe the ‘real world’ is made of constrictions rather than possibilities in my mind?
– Lately, I’ve found that when I’m having lively conversations with other people – like-minded, opposed or interested but uninformed ones – my ideas get tangible quite quickly. Sometimes, I hear myself say things out loud that I’ve never consciously thought before, but once I hear them come out of my mouth it is a Thing I can explore and play with. The people I am talking to add new perspective that I may not have considered before. Maybe I shouldn’t always think so much before speaking (most of what I say has been edited in the head, perhapse more than once), but I do need a safe environment in which I can speak my mind, then tweak what I’ve said or take it back. This is really new to me and deserves more exploration, especially since I tend to do the opposite when the going gets tough: withdraw from social interaction. Maybe I’ve just never had the right people to form a safe conversation environment with, or maybe I’ve become less impressed by All The Things People Could Do To Me when I’m me. I say: time for experiments!
New mantra: be me out loud – be creative out loud. And find the right, safe, audience/sounding board.
Thanks Havi, for making me think about this. Brilliant idea to analyse situations that, maybe only in hindsight, were right for us so we can set the stage for more good things to happen.
Havi, thank you thank you thank you! The timing! I am wowed… It was almost exactly 24 hours ago that I had a giant epiphany (one of those that is awfully familiar but I had managed to completely forget about since the last time this particular epiphany struck me–it is a spiral pattern) about how, for me, the equation goes something like this:
sensory details + being in my body [movement, music, being outdoors] + expression [writing, dancing, singing, art] = happy flow love state
It is astonishing how quickly I forget this (again and again) and also how it completely BOWLS ME OVER whenever the epiphany reasserts itself.
.-= Tracy´s last post … All my work is in progress =-.
Hmm. I’m not sure I could pick out which periods in my life were most creative. Of course as soon as I typed that, I thought of the old house in which I spent my formative years.
SPACE! I would physically create a lot more if I had real room to work and somewhere to put what I’d built.
Quiet. Not soundless per se, I like music for some things, often certain types, but no chatter in the background. So ideally, a house to myself.
A view of nature. Being out in it can be good but depends a lot on seasonal allergies, sometimes it’s better to view it from inside.
Comfy clothes.
Feeling uninhibited. Again, house to self rocks that. Working on how not to let other people’s presences affect my flow of thought.
Exercise.
Sleeping well.
What I wonder is how inspiration ties into this. When you mention your most creative periods, were you particularly inspired then or particularly productive?
Creativity and inspiration are tied together for me, but the days I felt awesome with inspiration are not necessarily the periods I was most creative on whole. Hard to say. Inspiration can be fickle and hard to manufacture.
I tend to think along the lines Naomi Wolf describes in The Treehouse. If inspiration is rain and you can collect it in a bucket, you’ll get some if you go out every time it’s raining. But if you regularly put out the bucket whether it’s raining or not, i.e. write/draw/paint/what-have-you even when you’re not inspired, you’ll ultimately end up with more inspiration.
.-= claire´s last post … Less thinking- more photos =-.
Hmmm. Interesting musings from you and everyone and lovely timing. I don’t know when I’m at my most creative. When I touch those moments they seem to have appeared all of a wholeness. Were there elements and conditions that came together?
I will say that my new most requested (and never before requested) feeling is to feel relaxed in my body and my mind. In the past I’ve asked to be able to pace myself, have the quiet I need, be sustainable, but this is the first I’ve asked specifically to feel relaxed. I’ve already made a leap into a new project, so it looks like I’m creating my first threads of an answer.
Wishing you a joyful vacation that is as productive and unproductive as your heart desires.
.-= Mahala Mazerov´s last post … Summer of Lovingkindness Invitational =-.
🙁 I made a list and when I posted, it vanished!
Trying again…
I seem to be at my most creative when:
– I’m driving long distances and am not in a hurry
– I’m feeling melancholy
– I’m feeling joyful
– I’ve been reading books with new-to-me thoughts or ideas
– I’m brainstorming with a group of people working towards a common goal
– I’ve exercised, especially hiking
– I’m eating well
– I’ve had new and interesting experiences
– I’ve had interesting dreams
– I’ve watched movies that spark my imagination
My creativity is diminished by:
– an unsupportive work environment
– feeling disinterested in everything
– having too many obligations
– overworking my creative processes
– not getting enough sleep
For some reason these questions are brining up some resistance in me…
Hmm…
.-= Andrew Lightheart´s last post … The 10 unconscious beliefs of the interrupter =-.
I *love* your Comment Zen. Kudos to you for clearly stating what you want. My first inclination after reading your post was to think “she should …” And then I saw your request for no advice, and I loved the space also opened for me to just congratulate you on your journey and also pat me on the back for mine. Best of luck finding your next orchard.
Last week I finally painted with oils for the 1st time since I was a kid (30 yrs ago). My inner selves had been clamoring for it, and I finally made their wishes my priority. No agenda, no goals, just play and exploration. Flow happened. And afterwards, I felt utterly replete in a way that I don’t believe I’ve *ever* felt before. I reveled in it for about 36 hours, and it gave me a burst of emotional energy to try other things I’d long wanted to do, or revisit. I feel like I turned a corner, and am on a different plane of existence, all because I put my own wants at the top of my To Do list. I’m now working on not judging my wants or needs, just thinking about how to best achieve them.
Fascinating. My equivalent of your question would be “what if my dream person is not my dream person?” Thank you for sharing your process.