It Was a "Take Care of Life to Take Care of Your Art." Week.

Well, yes. Maybe you have seen the quote; paraphrased ... Take care of your life. Get it in order. Then sort out and get your art together, ... writing, music, more art and creativity. The major things inmy life went well. The business went up against some obstacles and prevailed. I kept the hand in creativity, contact w/ my creative support motley crew, taught yoga, did laundry, dishes, helped a friend find some work, called someone in the hospital before a surgery, made time for family, took time to play a wee bit of violins w/ a newly revamped friend, got offered an office space for doable bartaring, ... . Get it. Guess what? I was freed up to make some art, ... yeah!!

One technique I have found was to reward myself w/ the fun stuff for last. (Read, id est, writing.) If I choose to write first w/ tons of chores and miserable to do lists to follow, ... I generally am miserable if I cannot detache from the tasks. All the time I am writing if focus slips, it is generally on the junk to do on the dread to do list. Answer; write as a reward. Devolop talent, reach for genius, really stretch for the "divine." Later. Keeping a day job is a must to keep well-grounded. If you want to write. And if you want to write poetry? You have to really know you are over the line. You have to know you are a poet. And nourish your soul. For example, er go, check out Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, someone else. YouTube is rich w/ inspiration and helps to know where the writing movement has been. Take it where you are going. And? Steer your spaceship. This week I was told 90% of the time a rocket ship to the moon is off course. What? Yes. It is constantly recorrecting the path ending up there anyway. That can be you get it. Look outside the box for images, solutions, perspectives, foreign responses, the unfamiliar ground that becomes terra firma.

Now what? I have been stretching my creativity w/ experimental photography. In high school where I dreadfully hated being, one good thing was the photography class. We were experimental, learned to do classic tricks of the trade, develop and experiment w/ our own techniques. (I made "soft erotica" I had forgotten when a buddy and I had the darkroom, my apologies very much "soft" and low risk, more artlike honestly.) The teacher was the "odd complicated creative" encouraging us in the dreaded obscure dark and hopeless adolescent wasteland otherwise.

Now? Well, I have regretted that most of my fiction is a soft erotica genre, promised a religious aunt I would exchange one epiphony for another more spirituality-based, say. Nevertheless skills get more developed and looking back, the photography led to one thing and another. After painting a semi-nude for $160 the comfort zone is more like home and a comfortable easy chair. The ethics board in my head is mellowing, maturing.

If I look at all the mechanics I get distracted on the first move, second, third. It loses the spontaneity. Sometimes like when I teach my creative writing people, I stress brainstorming,mind dump, mind mapping needs no critiquing. It needs freedom from limiting people, thoughts, barriers to creativity. Judge later, after a greater time, keep on generating newness, the snow skiiers and ice climbers, mountaineers know as neve. And "never say never."