I love eccentric creative people—and I think we all have it in us, to one extent or another, but sometimes accessing our own creative impulse means taking that extra step of granting ourselves permission and valuing our own labor.
There’s a guy in town who has built what’s now known as “Robot Alley.” It’s a stretch of fence covered in plastic toys and robotics…there’s a Super Soaker, more or less, and all kinds of distractions and movements. The first time I walked through the space, it was dusk. I was holding a hot bag of Thai food, heading home in the twilight, bringing dinner. A Storm Trooper kicked on, along with a fog machine. The Storm Trooper moved! He spoke in a raspy directive. Maybe I’d triggered a motion detector—or maybe, very possibly, there was somebody looking out? It issued a warning…and I ran! Ha! It was insane! The next time, I stayed to check out the wall…it’s a trip. I’m all for it. I love it, and I’ve brought more than a few people along to walk that stretch, to see what’s new, what’s changed.
The ongoing assemblage of discarded materials remind me of the old Buffet Flats, out near Bend, Oregon—a roadside attraction, a bowling ball garden, a nonstop loop of TV’s—including a tiny, dollhouse television—all playing The Wizard of Oz in unison. Buffet Flats became The Funny Farm then the Fun Farm, in some evolution…
Over in Iceland, I was walking along a rugged, natural shoreline and came to the “Recycled House.” Nobody was around, but the place was inviting. I walked through, accompanied by stray cats and a few shore birds.
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I’ve been thinking about how we relate to or connect with—or disconnect from—our own urge to make work. Some people are pretty hard on themselves, shutting down inspiration even before they get their house constructed, their words on the page, the collage made, the ideas identified, the parts laid out.
We’re always building and rebuilding, if we’re working.
There’s process and then there’s product. Those are two different but connected ways of being in the world. Process may take you to a finished product, or it might be the work itself, messing around.
All of those seemingly—possibly—worn-out sayings, about the journey beginning with one step? It’s true! Ha!
All we can do is engage with the process and see what comes of it.
What are you making? Writing? Building? How are you approaching your work?
xo
I love hearing all of these projects-in-process! Keep going! xo
Ive been jumping around the timeline and revising. Just spruced up a chapter that sets up the vertical/horses near the beginning, and sets up the narrators way of navigating the world.
Next, Im going to revise chapter by chapter, and print them, to later figure out how to order them. Seems like that process would be easier in the physical world.
If all goes as planned, Ill have the first 10 pages as good as I can make it by the end of the year, and it will entice my brother's agent friend into reading the whole thing.