imagination || craft: Finding the Story with Concrete Detail and Visual Art!
And delighting in your own damn self
There are a few visual artists who helped me get through the early days of the pandemic, whose drawing exercises helped me stay sane and connected to my creativity, along with giving me something to do with my kid when we were both home all day. Carson Ellis’s Instagram account was key (“Transmundane Tuesdays,” anyone?). I see that she has a Substack, too, which I just followed! Lynda Barry has been important to me for some time. I loved Marlys in college, and I’ve long been interested in what Barry has to say about creativity, drawing, and getting back to the flow of our child-selves. (Check out her book What It Is, if you haven’t already!) Finally, Wendy MacNaughton has been a big help, creativity- and sanity-wise.
MacNaughton’s newsletter is Draw Together, and her “Grownup Table” (a.k.a. “GUT”) posts never fail to make me feel lighter, more playful and encouraged, and more accompanied. This month at the Grownup Table, there are daily drawing exercises for paid subscribers called “The 30-Day Drawing Habit.” (Yes, I know we’re over halfway through the month, but the cool thing is, the prompts will still be there when the month ends, as far as I know …)
And what might this have to do with life-based writing, you may ask? Well, a lot, it turns out. Attention, openness to play, and willingness to really see ourselves and others are key to MacNaughton’s message, and those are qualities I really value as a writer and writing teacher— and ones I need to constantly remind myself of, as well!
Despite my good intentions, I haven’t been doing a great job of posting the “30-Day Drawing Habit” drawings to the Draw Together community on time, but I wanted to share a couple of the drawings here, along with a couple things they helped me remember about writing (and creativity, in general).
The Day 12 prompt was to draw a “portrait in five senses,” recreating sensory details you associate with someone. Here’s my sensory portrait of my son:
I often encourage students to start with concrete details and/or a scene when writing personal essay. (Lynda Barry’s What It Is has some great exercises around this.) So, this idea is not unfamiliar to me. Even so, I loved how this particular prompt got at details I probably wouldn’t have put in a creative piece otherwise. These details start to tell a story about our relationship and our character(s), but it isn’t the exact story I would have gotten to without the constraints of this exercise. The prompt reminded me also of some of the exercises in The Practice of Poetry, a book I bought many years ago in Lawrence, Kansas— I think as an undergraduate!— which I still refer to.
What I really wanted to say about the above drawing, though, is that it helped me appreciate the everyday details of life and the connection between me and my kid in a new way, and you really can’t beat that. (Side note: I don’t think I’m the only weirdo who sniffs her loved ones when she hugs them— right??) I loved how the drawing helped me reflect on how the “story” of our lives we tell ourselves often blurs over the everyday details of love, connection, and joy. Setting aside the need to jump to an overarching narrative first, and starting with the sensory texture of our lives, can help us see the story anew.
Another recent drawing exercise I found helpful for thinking through writing issues was the day 13 exercise, which asked us to draw ourselves AND to list three things about ourselves we find delightful. (Last week was all about “delights,” inspired by The Book of Delights by Ross Gay, a close friend from grad school. I’ve joked with Ross before about how he got the word “delight” from me, one of those instances where close friends take on each other’s habitual words. Ask him! He’ll admit it. “Linguistic convergence” among friends is its own delight. As is teasing your friends …)
Anyway, finding oneself delightful can be difficult at times. But as Wendy MacNaughton notes, “When we put ourselves down or deny our strengths, we refuse people the opportunity to connect with us … and for us to learn from one another.” I love pairing the slight oddness of a blind contour drawing with an opportunity to explore self-delight, but it definitely took me a few tries to get into the flow of exploring what I like about myself. My son and I both did this exercise, and I used mine as an opportunity to follow threads of thought in writing. I liked what I got to in item #2 below.
Here’s mine:
And here’s E’s:
Here’s a bonus portrait attempt from me because I liked the light on it this morning:
If you decide to try out one of these exercises, let me know! And follow
for more!Upcoming Courses at Muse:
Winter/Spring 2024 Drop-In Generative Writing Workshops
A selection of two-hour workshops will happen on the last Saturday of the month, January-April 2024. The sessions can be taken separately or together. The first workshop is Saturday January 24th, 1-3PM Eastern.
$40/session ($25 for paid subscribers to this newsletter)
Writing Beyond the Known (Self-Guided)
In this self-guided course you will explore the elastic quality of the essay form as you delve into the ways metaphor, speculation, and imaginative play can enliven your writing and help you explore your values, fascinations, and imaginings. In our approach to speculative nonfiction, we will work with strategies for capturing the slippery quality of the individual writer’s passage through time and the sometimes surreal quality of existence.
The class will be asynchronous, meaning that you will be able to read and respond to materials on your own schedule. You will receive written comments on your work from your peers. New lessons will open on 1/21, 1/28, 2/4, 2/11. The course site will close on 2/19.
Dates: Jan 21 - Feb 19, 2024
Cost: $50
Loved this: "Setting aside the need to jump to an overarching narrative first, and starting with the sensory texture of our lives, can help us see the story anew."