Elizabeth Gilbert on Creativity

Creativity is what I do.  It's what I am.  But it's not only what I am.  It's a glimpse of divinity.  Creativity is a path to another world, another spirit.  It acts on its own accord.  It's beyond logic, beyond rationality.  It doesn't always make sense.  But it inspires, rejuvenates, and astounds nonetheless.



Being creative brings forth the power of creation.  It brings forth the power of God.  Divinity is in the moment.  It bobs and weaves between the past and present.  And our attention.

What Is Special About Learning

Gonna have to keep after it, this jar of journal, if I am to finish by year's end.  So.  Onward.

What special skills did you learn as a child?  Who taught you?

Nothing immediately jumps to mind on those questions.  I could talk about reading, but I've already blogged about that here.  And I wouldn't classify that as a special skill, necessarily.  I mean, reading is widely taught to almost all individuals throughout the world.  Getting at a more specialized skill that I learned is going to be difficult.

And don't misunderstand me-- I believe reading is a very special skill that is so very important.  But my feeling here is to try and focus on a skill or skills that were unique to my experience.  That's how I'm interpreting the word special, in this case, anyway.

For some reason one of the first things I thought of was fishing with my dad.  He taught me how to bait a hook, cast the line, "troll", and even clean fish.  Not everybody knows how to do such things.  In fact, I know people who shy away from such things, are squeamish of cleaning fish.  I guess I can understand that, but it's something I think one can overcome with a little care and patience.

We used to fish off the bank of the lake at Lake Shasta, back when we had a cabin up there.  Some years the drought was such that there wasn't any water in the part of the lake closest to our cabin.  But other years were better.  There was one day that we fished out there about the entire day.  I think that was the time that I ended up with about forty mosquito bites around my neck and shoulders, as we fished into the evening and as the sun went down, the bugs came out in full force.  And I was wearing a tank-top, so a lot of skin was exposed.  Very itchy.

Let's see.  I learned how to ride a bike... how to do yardwork... how to fire a rifle... Still, I just am not coming up with something that satisfies my feeling for the unique, special skill that I'm looking for here.  I learned things when I went to YMCA camps-- that's where I fired the .22 rifle.  I learned arts and crafts there too, carving a little something out of a piece of sandstone, weaving vinyl strands into a lanyard/key chain... making "godseyes" out of yarn and popsicle sticks... I learned to cook fairly early in my childhood, cooking with my mom and in the 3rd grade, when my babysitter took a group of kids out of the classroom and cooked each week in the school cafeteria.  We then made up recipe books for Mother's Day out of all the recipes we had done.

I learned a lot about tools and craftsmanship from my dad.  Dad had a lot of tools and was very crafty and industrious, designing and building things all the time.  From him I learned about channel locks, socket sets (both metric and standard), vise grips and other pliers, wire cutters, soldering irons, measuring squares, drills, saws, hammers, screwdrivers, allen wrenches, tin snips, electricity meters, stud finders, mollies, woodscrews, finishing nails, and many other special things.  I learned to have an attention for details and safety when dealing with such things.  I learned to respect tools and take care of them.  Although I don't think I ever did as good a job of it as Dad did.

I guess I could say that I learned a lot of special skills from my mom and dad that I use to this day and into the future.  Thanks for all that, mom and dad.  You guys rock.

What's a Little Trying Between Friends?

No journal jar tonight.  Just the journal.

I'm a writer, and sometimes I just gotta write.

When did I learn to be so hard on myself?  Why must I self inflict such damage?  Why am I doing it now?

I can be going along just fine, and then wham, I'm inside my head, second guessing my thoughts, judging myself inferior or stupid or unfit to opine or transmit.  I wish I could just be.  I wish I could just be who I am.  Who am I? 

I am a writer.  And sometimes I just have to write.  About whatever it is.  Whether it makes sense or not.  Whether it flows or not.  Whether it is spelled correctly or not.  Whether it is knowledgeable or not.  Whether it matters or not.

I would like that my every word that I type came floating over the horizon with a flurry of fanfare and philharmonic symphony.  But it don't go like that.  I try to write and have a soundtrack, and sometimes that works, but not always. 

Checking with my muse puts a skip in the music.  I've got long-playing records on the turntable that crackle and pop when they sing and dance.  There's a warm ambient sound to them.  They don't have the precision of the digital age.  Sure, CD's brought clarity and exciting highs and lows to the ear.  But they don't have the warmth, the burn.  And they still skip, too.

I'm just practicing.  Trying to get my chops back.  Doing the scales, up and down.  Methodically typing them out.  Knowing that practice makes perfecter.  Because there is no perfect, only for the moment and the moment is gone.  As soon as you try to grab it, it's gone.  Past baby.  Fleeting.  Sands through the hourglass.  There's some old technology.

I wanna write big.  I wanna wrap my words around some big things.  I wanna wrap my words around the world.  And I wanna do it with style and panache and love.  I wanna love my way through this.  Love is the answer.

I wanna chase the fire again.  I want to eat the flame.  I want to sip the sparks and boil the elixir.  I want to find my way.  I wish to gain access.  I want to make the plate clean.  I want to keep the feelings flowing to the righteous river.  I want to wear pants.

There will be a victory.  There will be a time of honor and respect.  There will be a finish line.  There will be a triumph.  There will be rejoicing.  There will be dancing.  There will be embracing.  There will be love.

I will push through the walls.  I will push through the blocks.  I will find a path that I can lead my way.  I will take the steps and make the journey.  I will sing the song.  I will swim with the current.  I can make my way.  I will cooperate with the river.  I can float downstream.  I can be the writer that I want to be.  I can make the effort.  I can make the art.  I can make the love.  I will make a difference.

There is nutrition in this life.  To be had, to digest.  To be conquered as a little sprite.  I will digest my gruel.  I will eat of the forbidden fruit.  I will find my true distinction.  I will make a meaning out of it. 

Know that this too shall pass.  Know that this too shall remain.  Know that this too shall be gloriously understood all too late.  Know that this too shall pass.

The Raging Flaming Goat of Samos Published

Yo yo-- check it out!

The Raging, Flaming Goat of Samos by Michael J. Andrade | Make Your Own Book

Just Some Favorite Things

What is your favorite movie, book, poem and song?

My favorite movie is His Girl Friday.  That or It's a Wonderful Life.  And I really liked Running On Empty.

My favorite book is Skinny Legs and All.  Among others.  Hard for me to choose favorites, but that one's up there.  So is Ishmael.  And Writing Down the Bones.

Favorite poem?  Hmm.  Something by Maya Angelou?  I'm not really keen on poetry.  But I like a lot of African American Literature, there are some great works there.  Hard to name a favorite though.

My favorite song is "As" by Stevie Wonder.  Beautiful.  Amazing lyrics and masterfully sung by my favorite artist.

The Journal Jar Runeth Over

You guessed it!  Here comes the prompt:

What was the best birthday you ever had?  Why?

It's kinda hard to outdo your original birthday.  The moment when you officially became "of this world" is a miraculous, emotional event.  All other birthdays just pale in comparison.  That being said, I don't know that I really had a standout birthday.

There are lots of memories, though.  I had a rough go of it early on, as I kept getting ear aches when I was supposed to be having birthday parties.  But around the time I was five, we had a party at McDonald Land, and several friends and their moms came and it was a blast.  Ronald MeDonald was there.  I think.  But I do remember the food was good.  And we had fun playing on the jungle gym type thingy stuff.

It was also fun going to O'Farrell's for an insane amount of ice cream.  Hoy vey!

But lately, I've just been thankful to have a birthday.  Because someday they're gonna stop.  Don't know how those celebrations will be, once that happens... but until then, I'm thankful to have what I have.

The Goat Lives!

Been working a lot lately on my picture book.  It's my book and I can cry if I want to.  I've got the story down to about the way that I want it, I just need to get the illustrations done and plugged in to the software that the online publishing company gives you so you can make your own book.  Thanks to the people at Blurb.com for the nifty interface.  It's kinda clumsy at times, but that might just be my computer (not enough memory).  So I'm making progress.  Added several new drawings tonight and I'm slowly making my way through the narrative.  For those who don't know, I've written a story based on an old legend about the Wild Cat of Samos.  My story focuses in on the life and self-transformation of the Wild Cat's friend, a goat.  See what I've written about it all before here .  The story has changed a bit since going to the Children's Book Writer's Conference in Big Sur last December (more about that here).  But at it's heart is a genuinely wonderful moment in time that I will treasure forever.

We were traveling in a car on the island of Samos with my good friend from college, Armand.  His dad is from the island, and we were there visiting because Armand had gotten married and had a blessing ceremony for the relatives in Greece who hadn't been able to make the ceremony in the US.  So we had jumped at the opportunity to go to Greece and have an authentic traveling experience with a built in translator and tour guide.

As we toured the island, there were several jokes that cropped up and repeated themselves, as happens in groups where the people are fun-loving and have a sense of humor.  It may even happen in groups that don't have a sense of humor and they just don't notice.  But anyway.  Under circulation was a story that one of the tourists had run across in a book about the natural history of the island.  Armand and a couple others in the car had shared some laughs about the Wild Cat of Samos (see link above for story).  But for my wife and I, it wasn't until this moment in the car that we came to know of the Wild Cat.

It seems to me that Armand was driving, but I don't know if that's so because we didn't rent cars on the island.  But anyway.  More than ten years ago and I just can't remember all the specifics.  But someone in the back seat noticed some lights glowing on the hill off in the distance.  They asked Armand, "What's that up there?  Do you know?"  To which Armand replied, "Why, that's the Raging Flaming Goat of Samos."

The car erupted in laughter and we did some other joke-bit tid-bits, including "Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!" and "$21.95 pays for the whole seat-- but you'll only need THE EDGE!!!"  We laughed long and hard, though we weren't exactly sure why.  Later, Suzy and I learned the story of the Wild Cat of Samos, and we laughed some more.  The story became a running gag.  I embellished it each time I told it, like a growing tall tale.  I had the Wild Cat working out on a stairmaster while trapped in the cave.  I must have told the Wild Cat of Samos story a dozen times to different people we were traveling with.  What I don't know is why or how Armand came up with a goat?  Just more for the humor, I guess.

So now I've created a story for the Raging Flaming Goat of Samos, with a cameo appearance by the Wild Cat of Samos, as well as the Gilarmis brothers.  Hope to have it illustrated and printed in time for Christmas this year.

Wish me luck.