What We Lose if Create Me Free's Friday Digests Go Away
What We Lose if Create Me Free's Friday Digests Go Away
Take a look at exactly what these digests are all about and what's going to happen if they have to come to an end, which is potentially happening sooner than you might think ....
As I shared with you in my recent post, I am going to have to make some changes to Create Me Free on Substack if I don’t reach a certain threshold of paid subscribers. The first thing that will have to go away is Friday digests.
Tune in Sunday for a post that shares some insights gleaned from that ongoing conversation including frequently asked questions around why I write so often, thoughts on paywalls, my sliding scale payments and more.
This week, instead of sharing a fresh digest, I am sharing a collected version of all of the January 2024 Friday digests to give you a sense of exactly what we lose if this goes away.
There will be no more Friday roundups unless I receive enough paid subscribers. Details on what my new Substack model will look like coming soon.
Getting too much email from me? Switch to monthly digests.
Goals of Friday Digests
In case you’re not familiar, these are weekly roundups of all of the things I’ve read on Substack related to art and mental health, organized into specific categories. These are not just links; these are thoughtfully curated excerpts elaborated on. Goals of creating these Friday digests include:
Highlight the best writing from around Substack that touches on issues related to art and mental health, terms used very broadly
Make sure to include many lesser-known writers alongside more established writers because one of the awesome things about Substack is we are all here together
Draw connections between different pieces of writing to stimulate further conversation around these topics
Elaborate with my own thoughts, how this relates to my area of study, what I find valuable here
Allow readers and writers to find each other; it’s hard to search for new people to read on Substack and this is a way to help you connect. I always encourage people to go read the original pieces that are linked to in the hopes that each writer gets more subscribers.
Create a true community here of people who are all writing amazing things that are really important
Collect all of this as an archive as I build out my library of resources on the complex relationship between art and mental health
January 2024
I have been doing these digests every week for the better part of a year. Here’s a roundup of all of the material collected and shared in the January 2024 digests to give you a sense of the scope and power of this work. It can’t exist without payment.
Reminder: I draw connections between what the writers are sharing and my understanding of how that relates to art + mental health but this doesn’t mean that the original writer intended that or agrees with it in full or part … I always encourage you to go read the full pieces whose snippets capture your attention here to find out what the writer’s piece intends and offers.
Mental Health and Creative Content
of in Subtracting … Explanation
shares about “a certain exhilaration that can take place inside an artist when she chooses not to explain” …
“Equating approval with ‘explanation’ is plainly ridiculous – my own love of art often depends on the work’s inherent sense of mystery, the maker’s gift of space in which I can make my own meaning from it. And nothing is more tedious than an over-explainer. Nevertheless, I realise that this equation has lurked inside me for a long time. It’s partly a people-pleasing impulse, some subconscious need not to inconvenience anyone by causing the slightest confusion. But more soberingly, I now see the explaining impulse as the desire for control of my reader. My describing a vase, for example, so precisely that there can be no mental picture available to the reader except the exact one I give them, may not be a gift to that reader. It may be a straitjacket.”
What challenges or desires in your own personality, such as the need to people-please, show up in the content you do or don’t add to your work and how might things change if you shift that?
of shared Musings on travel #1
“Yesterday, walking around our neighbourhood in the golden hour of a late summer afternoon, my husband and I talked about post-travel blues. The sadness that something we planned for an entire year is over. The reverse culture shock, the loss of freedom, the strange sense of sameness that’s replaced excitement and adventure, the nostalgia.
Mostly the nostalgia.
For me, nostalgia is what lingers most - in my voice as I share stories with friends and families, in the small sigh as I look at photos, in the words I write. I’m not ready to let it go. Not yet. And so, I must write and preserve those feelings and memories - the big and the small - while their presence has its strongest hold, before they fade like photos in an old photo album.”
As I’ve said before, when I use the term “mental health” I sometimes mean things with a diagnosis and symptoms but more often I just mean something akin to “how the challenges of life are affecting our thoughts and experiences.” And that, in turn, affects our creativity. And so, I believe that all of us are artists and all face mental health challenges to varying degrees. In this case, nostalgia impacts the choice to record certain content, something I think that so many of us creatives can relate to.
of Writer Everlasting wrote Those Essays Nobody Seems to Have Read
about whether or not you go back to read your own writing. She shared:
“I go back and read something I’ve written almost every single day. It’s kind of an obsession, I think. (Also, an admission that I may have way too much time on my hands. )
Something comes up and I vaguely remember that I’d written about that very thing1, or something similar, and I go looking for it, maybe not to even use it but to satisfy my curiosity. And if, after I find it—it may take hours, but they’re happy hours—and I like the way I put that thing together, I of course want to share it again. Because nobody saw it the first time and there’s nothing that says I can’t put it out there again.
There’s a downside to it, though. If I find something I’ve written before and there are clunkers or errors or just a word or two out of place, I’m embarrassed and I have to fix it. Right then. Even if its moment in the sun has long passed and nobody will ever think to go looking for it ever again.
I will know.
Just the other day I re-read a piece I’d written about a month ago and realized ‘inexpensive’ was the wrong word. Horribly wrong. I changed it to ‘ordinary’ and it was as if it came out singing. Perfect! Yes!
I love when that happens.”
I always find it really fascinating to learn about other creatives process and relationship with their own work. We all have differences and quirks in this. I adore writers like Ramona who work at their craft and chip away at a piece and get excited to find the perfect word. This level of attention to the craft is something I read about often when reading about writing, and I appreciate the way it honors the art of language.
I’m not that way as a writer … certainly I try to find the right word in the moment, but it’s not the type of thing that I spend a lot of energy on. I find, right this moment, that I’m shy to admit this, embarrassed, facing an inner critic that says, “if you were a good writer …” but no, that’s not the case, I’m just a different kind of writer. I admire those writers and it’s also okay that I’m different in this. A lot of it likely has to do with the way I look at my work - as an entire lifetime body of work so that each piece matters in the moment but is a small part of the whole and isn’t overly significant on its own.
In any case, it’s pretty rare that I go back and change a word in a published piece. But I do regularly circle back to old work. It’s not so much that I re-read it often, but that I remember something I wrote that connects, and I link to it in a new piece, or I revisit it and re-share it in a new forum (sometimes with changes, often not) or I combine it with other pieces in a collection shared in a different space. Or I go back and re-read it to remind myself what I used to think and why.
RELATED: In an interview with Jen Zug over at The Editing Spectrum which is by
“Early on I struggled with putting anything down on paper that I hadn’t worked out in my mind first. Imagine all the blank pages and blinking cursors I stared at! I’ve been writing since I was very young, and I think I imagined that everyone else was good enough and smart enough to clickity-clack their typewriters and keyboards into works of brilliance on the first go.
Looking back, it’s obvious how irrational this was, but I was young and writing mostly in isolation. Anne Lamott taught me about writing a Shitty First Draft in her book, Bird By Bird, which I first read almost 20 years ago. She very explicitly states that your first draft of anything will never be published, it’s simply a place to start. Learning how to write my own shitty first drafts required a level of trust in myself that I had to build over time. Like, if I put this shitty thing on paper, and it’s objectively shitty, how do I know it can be unshittified?
I’m getting much better at this, but I still struggle with it today. Writing in community with other writers helps. By meeting other writers, reading their shitty first drafts, and hearing about their struggles through draft after draft, I’m growing more confident in my own writing process. Writing can’t be done completely in isolation. We need one another, we need other voices we trust to be involved in the creative journey, like how iron sharpens iron.”
Mental Health and Creative Process
of CRAFT TALK shared On Literary Sidepieces:
“I do think sometimes it’s healthy to have a few balls in the air, especially if you need to take a break from something. My friend Priyanka and I were talking about how she’s doing some really intense personal writing right now for her new book, and how every day feels so emotionally heavy but she has to keep going back to it, showing up for it, and it’s just consistently tough. I asked her if she had another project she could dive into for a while, one that felt lighter, easier, funnier, because she is a funny writer, too, as well as a serious one. We all need a sidepiece project sometimes.”
Sometimes if we are too focused on our main project it can be at the expense of our mental health and wellness. Maintaining momentum for that project means taking breaks from it. Those breaks may be in the form of not working at all in the same creative medium as the piece. However, it might mean remembering the fun of the medium through a sidepiece.
of offers us a new series called Creative Practices for the Winter Doldrums and in Week One invites us to Make Space
“One of the perils of our modern world is the ability to fill our lives to the brim and be constantly plugged in to some kind of noise. It’s easy to think:
“I don’t have time or energy to be creative. I get to the end of the day and I’m so worn out, all I can do is collapse on the couch and stare blankly at the TV before I drag myself to bed.”
I hear you. And trust me, sometimes it’s all we can do to stare blankly at something entertaining. But if I do it too many nights in a row, I feel the doldrums coming for me.”
She goes on to talk about how creating mental and physical space can help us and offers suggestions for doing so. I often find that my physical clutter and my mental clutter are reflections of one another and working on one always helps the other, so this resonates for me. Decluttering, organizing, leaving blank space on the calendar … these are all parts of my own creative process.
RELATED: From in 6 Ways to Create Well-Being at Home:
“Your environment plays a huge role in your mental and emotional health, even your physical well-being. It can play tricks on us, for good or bad. If it’s a big, chaotic mess, our family problems will only increase. If we try to tame the chaos of our immediate environment, there is greater chance of you and your family feeling a bit more calm and at ease even amidst some genuine dysfunction or family problem.”
of Ten Thousand Journeys shared Constellating a Personal Ritual
which begins …
“The quiet morning after the longest night, the continuous movement of the leaves, and this stretch of time that sits at the cusp of new beginnings form a snow globe-like circle around me as I sit at my desk thinking about how I want to change my life in the new year. In 2024, I want to shift the structure of my days so that I can write more, and fiercely. I want to claim writing as my life purpose, and words as my tools. No one is stopping me from doing any of this, but a hundred invisible things get in the way. They create a real feeling of stuckness, of trying to move ahead while being pulled backward. I’ve spent time unraveling why I experience this push-pull even as I realize that writing is necessary soul work. I don’t want to wait to value my writing until someone else gives me permission or validation. I want to look back on 2024 and know that I wrote continually, and that I was wrung dry of words. Never has building a body of work felt more urgent or compelling, and yet something gets in the way.”
Priya goes on to share the ritual for moving forward which could be helpful to others who feel stuck/blocked. Because isn’t it so common for us to truly want to create and yet also to not be creating and therefore isn’t it important to find a way to figure out why and make a shift?
of Subtle Maneuvers shared Finding “the flux” in 2024
which is a very fascinating story about two men (Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari) with very different approaches to work who found a way to collaborate that assisted Guattari in overcoming writer’s block:
Guattari “was also an activist, a bit of a troublemaker, and a man of great energy—perhaps too much energy. “He needed something like Ritalin, which we give to hyperactive children today,” a colleague recalled. “We had to find a way to calm him down. Although he claimed that he wanted to write, he never wrote.”
Quoting author François Dosse, Currey shares:
“Deleuze expected Guattari to wake up and get to his desk right away, to outline his ideas on paper (he had three ideas per minute), and, without rereading or reworking what he had written, to mail his daily draft. He imposed what he considered to be a necessary process for getting over writer’s block. Guattari followed the rules faithfully and withdrew into his office, where he worked slavishly until four o’clock in the afternoon every day.”
This makes me think of Gretchen Rubin’s framework of The Four Tendencies. Some people thrive with accountability and it seems like Guattari was one of those people. Other people rebel in the face of it and this wouldn’t work for them.
of Secret Gardens in When our ideas stop flowing
“Water is a good thing, until there’s too much of it or until it has nowhere to flow. If it stays in the one place and stagnates, it gets gross. And perhaps it was the dust getting to my head but I couldn’t help but see a parallel to our creativity, our ideas…
Creativity flows to us and through us, out to others.
Unless we hoard it or hold onto it. Either because we’re afraid or unsure. Sometimes it keeps pouring into our Shiny Ideas Folders until they’re gross and mouldy because we have too many ideas and not enough action.
Just me?”
Definitely not just you Keeley. Really resonating with this imagery of ideas that have sat stagnant for too long. Some ideas, of course, really do need a lot of time to marinate. But like the cucumbers in rice vinegar that I just threw out because they were a really weird color and smell, things can also marinate for too long.
of Things Worth Knowing with Farrah Storr asked Are You Ready to Put Yourself Out There?
Sharing how she did so here on Substack despite anxiety … There’s a lot of richness in this piece around staying in and leaving our comfort zones and how age might impact our choices around risk and vulnerability. She writes about how many partially-written books she has on her computer and says:
“Collectively, I have spent years on them all. And yet I have nothing to show for it. If I had stuck to one idea and seen it through I would have a book by now. I might have had some success. I might also have had some failure. Either way I would have won because I’d have been moving forward with my life. Instead I have wasted the last few years residing in the space between uncertainty and hope. It fees like a safe space, for whilst something’s still a an idea you can never fail, right? But it’s a dangerous place for your soul.
Maybe this is you- preferring to rest in the safety of the research stage of a new project. Or better still, preferring to stay in the research stage of multiple projects. It is the most perfect place of avoidance: purpose without pressure.”
I would first argue that it isn’t true that she doesn’t have anything to show for it and that none of it is wasted. Personally, the way I keep moving forward in my work is to see it all as a huge body of work where it all matters because it’s all part of the process to completing that body of work. In hard times, I imagine a posthumous discovery of this body of work … where someone would find, if I were Farrah, those half completed documents on the computer and bring them into the light and someone would find magic in them just the way that they are.
But I also acknowledge that her own experience of that being wasted time is valid and real also. That being stuck in the research phase or procrastinating project is common among people with anxiety, people afraid for whatever reason to face criticism, people afraid of both success and failure (which means a lot of us people). One of the things I’ve learned about anxiety is that the only real way to make it better is to do the thing you’re anxious about anyway. (There are exceptions, there are sometimes important parameters needed in place to titrate the experience, but generally speaking, this is the case.) And that’s what Farrah did:
“Over time I realised what I really wanted to do, what I had always wanted to do was create my own community rather than an audience. I wanted to write about the things that interested me, a sort of live autobiography of sorts. But oh God, was I fraught with anxiety. The anxiety that no one, and I mean no one, would subscribe. The anxiety of putting my most personal writing on the Internet. The anxiety that old colleagues would cringe. Or laugh. Or think I was completely bat shit for doing such a thing after a relatively distinguished career in magazines.
And yet, in spite of all that I did it.”
How can you find a way to acknowledge the fears and anxieties and move forward anyway? It’ll be different for everyone. Having spent a decade researching craft as therapy (specifically crochet), I have found that one way of doing that is practicing in small ways. Learn over and over again that you can be imperfect in crochet and nothing bad happens and then it teaches you that you can take other bigger risks. In a reference to something else in Farrah’s post - get the weird, edgy haircut; you might love it or hate it but either way the hair grows back - then remember that you can try other things, too.
RELATED: of Writing in the Dark with Jeannine Ouellette shared:
“Back to the topic of desire—both the kind that propels a story forward, and the kind that propels us forward. We could speak all day and night about desire, because most of us have gone to—go to—such great lengths to protect ourselves from the fullness of its sensation (and are so good at deceiving ourselves about the nature of our truest desires). This distancing and deceit impedes our art, without question. In art, the closer we get to ourselves, the better. In art, the more we feel, the better. In art, the truth of our desires is our guiding star.”
of The Smart Creative shared Beginning Again
which is about the anxiety, fear, procrastination, impostor syndrome that can make it hard for us to get back to creativity after a break …
“After a period like this where I have been away from the studio or in a fallow period of creativity, I feel very much like a beginner, and it is often difficult to find my bearings again in my work. That is the truth of the creative process, the ebbs and flows that are part of life as an artist. There are times when life interrupts our creative flow or when, no matter how hard you try, nothing good seems to happen at the easel. There’s anxiety, boredom and self-doubt that are constant intruders in the studio, who’s voices need to be ignored or overcome that can inhibit us from even getting started. I ask myself questions about the worth of the work that I am doing and often feel like an imposter. I imagine that I am not alone in this thinking.”
But more than this, it’s about remembering that there are always breaks, ebbs and and flows, and that feeling like a beginner again in creativity actually is the point.
One of the things I like about my own creativity as I age is that this point about being a beginner again is both true and not true. It is true that I am starting over or trying something new or trying the same thing a new way, that playing and being a beginner is this magical thing. But it’s also true that I have years of ebbs and flows behind me and that means that deep inside, despite all the fears that arise, I already know, “I can do this. I do this. This is what I do.”
of Eric's Creative Bytes shared Embracing Authenticity
which is a book review in the form of three takeaways that relate to Eric’s own journey through career and art.
“The ego, often loud and demanding, seeks immediate gratification and recognition, while the Self is our true essence, seeking fulfillment and purpose.
In my life, this battle manifested in various ways. My pursuit of a careers in marketing, design, and tech; completing my bachelors degree; my journey as an artist; and my exploration into different artistic mediums – all these paths were influenced by this internal conflict. The ego pushed me toward external validations, like money, the halo effect, certificates, degrees and a hunger for creative recognition. In contrast, my Self yearned for authentic expression and meaningful connection through art.
This led me to a crucial realization: the importance of aligning my actions with my true Self. It meant recognizing when the ego was steering my decisions and gently redirecting my focus towards what genuinely resonated with my inner values and passions.”
I don’t always frame things in the ego/self model myself but it can be a helpful way to help us understand what’s really driving us. Another way of phrasing is it the tension between the head and the heart. When the head takes too much control, it can creatively affect our he(ART).
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Mental Health and Creative Medium
of Lauren Sauder shared Camera as Sketchbook
discussing a time in life when she wanted “security in knowing” and her creativity was a reflection of the comfort of rigidity.
“At that time, I practiced collage and drawing. My work was exact. It was measured. And calculated. In a lot of ways, this played into the themes that went on to be relevant in my creative practice. I immersed myself in understanding human-built landscapes. I obsessed over architecture, natural landscapes, and the liminal space that exists between the two.
It felt like I thrived here. In the rigidity and tightness. I thought I liked it even. And proceeded to hold onto that knowing for another seven years.”
But then she changed and became more drawn to uncertainty and has switched mediums accordingly.
I find it helpful to acknowledge where we’re at with wanting the security of repetition and a “small life” vs. uncertainty and risk and a “big life”. Neither is bad nor good, we need different things at different times, and allowing our medium or other aspects of our creativity to reflect that can be helpful.
of Art Date with Sarah Thibault shared in The Aesthetics of grief
about how our medium often changes during periods of grieving.
“Because I couldn’t write very well at this time, I transformed my artwork to try and process these big feelings. I began plein air painting, and making landscapes and images of veils rather than painting the portraits and interiors I had been doing leading up to the pandemic.
Amber said her artistic practice also transformed during the grieving process. She moved from primarily working in sculpture to paintings of plants and flowers. In 2022 she presented a solo show of work dedicated to her mom called Pegi’s Garden. The work is bright, with a slight sense of disease caused by the swirling patterns and sometimes jarring color combinations. … Another evolution in Amber’s art that came out of this time is her interest in urns. When she went to find one for her mom, she was disappointed by the selection which was serious and expensive. This inspired her to start making urns that she would want for mom and for herself.”
I did a lot of grief writing when my father passed but there have been other times when writing didn’t work for me because I just didn’t have words and in those times I turn to the rhythmic healing of crochet and the visual expression of collage.
RELATED: From The Wild Forgotten by in Seeing, seeing, seeing more
“We cannot know what we don’t know.
But as we learn we have opportunity to embrace the mysteries and magic. And that has been what the simple act of daily sketching has been for me. An adjunct to my larger work, it started in earnest as a way to quieten a stressed feline family member I adored, and became a practise to ease me through the grief of last year. And now it is an anchor, and a series of secret doors, and a seat under a rose arbour, and soaring on griffon wings above icy mountains, and laying under ancient trees.
It is everything, because it is simple, and connective, and an act of conscious courage.”
From of Studio Diaries in Refreshing the creative cauldron
“When I get into the flow of creating, it shows on my table. I have papers and paints strewn around, with multiple journals and sometimes multiple projects on the go. My table is littered with collage papers and text pages, sticks and textured items that I want to experiment with, bits and bobs that I collect with vague ideas of using them on future projects. A stray word, pattern, colour, or image may spark an idea and be the inspiration for my next painting.
What may well look like a mess to almost anyone walking in, is my creative cauldron. From this cauldron emerges my art. In this creative cauldron serendipitous new discoveries are made, delightful experiments are carried out, and ordinary alchemy takes place!”
Shinjini goes on to share how we sometimes get apologetic or embarrassed about a messy studio/ creative space. And then shares lots of examples of creatives with messy spaces. And lots of helpful thoughts about ways to view this differently.
ofAuthorstrator shared in Experimenting Through Doodles:
“But whatever the medium, it has to suit the story.
I think ink could work well for the old-timey, fairy tale mystery vibes of Wulfrun, I just need to sort out the best way to tackle it - will washes be too busy? Should the ink be black? Or is there a better colour for this? Should I stick to just line art, maybe try crosshatching for shading? And that’s even before considering character design and background and the specifics of the story.
It’s overwhelming to think about. Especially since no one is making me do this but me….
Nevertheless! When a project is overwhelming, I try to find the easiest way in.”
Which I think speaks to how going to whatever your go to medium is can be a way to stop overthinking and then you can always move forward differently from there.
of Eclecticism: Reflections on literature, writing and lifeshared oNt tsrat hte ewke
written entirely like this:
“uBt htsee adsy I errgte ym alixyt ni hte erlam fo ekbyaodrnig kslisl, ebacsue fo hte isuttaoin ni hwcih I ifdn ymesfl. nI a unstehll ti si htsi: I acn ytep afts iwhtuot ebnig caucaret, ro I acn ytep caucaretyl iwhtuot ebnig afts. tI osnusd ilek a oJnhosinna ro iWdlaen paohirms, ubt htsi si ym ilef. A omemtn ro wto fo ocmmsiretaoin no oyru aptr owlud ont ocem masis, fi oyu odn’t imdn ym asiygn os.”
Which I believe translates to:
But these days I regret my laxity in the realm of keyboarding skills, because of the situation in which I find myself. In a nutshell it is this: I can type fast without being accurate, or I can type accurately without being fast. It sounds like a Johannina or Walden paradox, but this is my life. A moment or two of commiseration on your part would not come amiss, if you don’t mind my saying so.
And I’m not sure what I want to say about it but it delighted me to “read” this and to look at it as its own art form and to consider the implications related to nuerodiversity and dyslexia and those people who can’t read for various reasons and how all of that, as well as simply a lack of proficiency with a particular form of technology, might impact what and how we create.
Mental Health and Creative Productivity Flux
NOTE: I mentioned that I didn't want to keep using the word productivity for this section, because it felt too accomplishment-focused. Wendi Gordon suggested “flow” instead and I've been gnawing on that because it feels almost right but it also has a lot of connotations for me. Then I read Mason Currey (as quoted above) who highlighted the word FLUX.
I did some digging. The word "flux" has its origins in Latin, coming from the term "fluere," which means "to flow." In Latin, "fluxus" referred to the act of flowing or a state of flowing. Over time, this evolved into "flux" in Middle English, retaining the core meaning of flow or continuous movement. It's a word commonly used in various contexts to indicate a state of change, flow, or instability.
This feels right, I think. So that’s what I’m going with for now.
An Unintentional Creative Conversation on “Productivity”
One of the things I find so amazing in my Substack inbox is how sometimes I read an article and then the next article that I read seems to respond directly to it. I found that happening here …
of Chasing Butterflies shared Service, Depression, and Value
“I’ve tried a lot of things. I’ve been a gardener, landscaper, teacher’s assistant, shop assistant, massage therapist and Reiki practitioner, childcare provider, waitress, and bartender.
I am also an author and artist. I’ve published several paranormal fiction novels, one children’s book, and one short essay in the spiritual self-help field. I’ve had several websites selling prints of my artwork.
Nothing sticks.” …
“The voice behind the depression has talked me out of almost everything I’ve ever thought about doing.”
“People tell me they love my artwork, but no one buys it. People do buy my books, but the more I write them the less I want to continue. I feel as if there is something more important, something of more value that I could be doing. I thought about art therapy. I even applied to a program, and got accepted. The dean of the department spent a whole phone call telling me that after I graduated I should teach others instead of practice. Then life happened, and I never started the program.”
So much more in that piece and it’s all so relatable. I was thinking a lot about it and then I read this from
of Morgan Harper Nichols in Dart Boards or Tree Rings?
“If you connect with the tree rings: You may be in a place where you are managing your capacity with what you have. At times, you may feel misunderstood because, like tree rings, others cannot see the inner workings of your processes and what you've been working on in the same way that someone who is operating in a more outward, fast-paced manner. In that space, remember that no matter what the rest of the world sees or knows about you, there is a rich story unfolding beneath the surface. And, just as tree rings continue to form year after year, so will you. The growth may be slower and quieter than expected at times, but it is beautiful, much like a tree reaching high into the sky. From your deep roots to the branches that form a canopy over the forest in collaboration with other trees, your growth, though often quiet and gradual, is still significant in more ways than you realize.”
That piece from Morgan Harper Nichols hit me in the heart. My father was a lifelong woodworker/wood artist/ urban wood harvester. He also always had a dart board hanging in his shop. I associate him with both dart boards and tree rings … and with a lot of my complicated understanding of creative “productivity” and how it relates to depression and self-esteem and business … These thoughts are incomplete at the moment but they are reverberating in my head.
And I’m adding tree rings to the imagery I use for exploring my own growth path and mental health.
And More on Mental Health and Creative Flux
of Self Made shared THE RETURN OF THE SELF MADE ✨SPARK✨
which is an update in the form of the micro, the macro, and the miraculous … a format I loved. In it, this:
“I first noticed that something was very off with me back in August when it hit me that my creative spark—that constantly percolating, inner effervescence that tosses ideas my way in the early dawns and middle of the nights, that accompanies me on long walks and in morning pages and whatever time I spend in meditation, that emerges, magic!—in lit-up conversations with dear friends—had gone completely silent.
I am an artist. My spark is the way I know whether or not I’m OK. It is precious, holy, and sacred, not only because of what and how it allows me to CREATE, but also because, after decades of numbing, it was this part whose calls for me to get my life together finally got loud enough for me to listen. Said another way: my spark saved my life, and gave me the life I have today. It’s what I refer to as my “higher self.” It’s the part that connects me to the bigger picture of my life, the world, the universe, and beyond (sidenote: if any aliens are reading this, I’m ready for my beam-up).
So when it went quiet, I knew something was very off.”
This speaks to how our mental health/ life challenges can impact the of our creativity … and how knowing what healthy creativity looks like for us, we can then notice when we aren’t in that healthy place and this can be a way to begin to recognize that something in life needs to shift. So, remember that when your creative flow seems to be all dammed up, it doesn’t mean that you’re lazy or that you need to just work more, it might be a sign to you to see how the river of your life needs to shift.
of Sixburnersue shared All The Pretty Flowers, All The Good Books, Never Enough Time
which is about this persistent feeling that there’s never quite enough time for all the things we desire to creatively do and how sometimes this leads to real stress and anxiety and concern that perhaps it’s a true disorder and wonder if something should be done about it.
“Even if I never had to work another day in my life for money, I would be torn – and yes anxious – over finding time to learn to knit or learn to paint or to become a better photographer or a better flower arranger. Or to find time to write my memoir, time to record Dad talking about the history of our family while walking around St. Peter’s graveyard. Time to go antiquing with my sister, or time to get that hour of walking in with my husband every day. What about the time to do that trip to Scotland? The time to find a warm place to go in the winter?
And time to read all those books!”
I can relate to all of that and also I often see it differently. I shared this quote as a comment on her post:
“Think not of the books you’ve bought as a "to be read” pile. Instead, think of your bookcase as a wine cellar. You collect books to be read at the right time, the right place, and the right mood.“ -Luc van Donkersgoed
And I often see things that way. What I didn’t share was that I have literally over 10000 books on my virtual “for later” shelf at my local library and I keep adding more.
Sometimes, for me, the constant million things “to do” (which mostly honestly are want to dos at least somewhat) can be really overwhelming and stressful and I regularly think that if I just got more organized somehow it would all become easier and I regularly think that I’m going to “get ahead” on things and then it’ll feel better and that is never true.
But also, often for me, I see the abundance of things I do want to do as possibility an richness … In my worst depressive periods, it feels like there’s no point to anything, and sometimes it does help to remind myself of all of the million things I really do want to do, even if I forget in that moment why I want to do them, and that can keep me pressing forward to a new day.
of The Beauty of Things shared a moving piece called How to Read a Novel in 30 Years
which is about several things but what captured me most was how her experience with depression affected her ability to read and write:
“What I didn’t know was that I was descending into a depression so severe it would become, for periods of time, disabling. All of this will sound impossible to most people because of the jobs I had, and how well I did some of them. But it is amazing how much you can compensate if you have a good enough memory, an ability to visually match patterns, and worked with teams of people who read and repeated many things to you. My reading would return, but my creative writing would not come back until my mid-40s.”
I’ve been immobilized in my creativity, even in my consumption of the creativity of others, at times, as a result of depression, so this all resonates for me.
of A Writer's Notebook shared My Year of Writing Dangerously
which recaps an intention to do a specific type of daily writing in 2023 and what didn't and didn’t work about that …
“A lot of digital ink has been spilled on the topic of daily writing practices and whether or not every writer should keep one. The short version is that of course, it depends—on the writer, on their goals, on the cycles and rhythms of their own creative being. Personally, when it comes to writing, I’m a bit like what happens when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object. It’s hard for me to get going, but once I do, it’s hard for me to stop. Even so, I found that six weeks was about the maximum length that I could go with my daily observational writing practice before I started to feel burned out.”
What I love about this is the acknowledgment of the intention and the acceptance that it might not make sense to keep that intention and the beauty and power of adapting and then celebrating what goodness comes out of it anyway. She shares so many interesting writing successes that happened in 2023 despite this intention not being realized in the intended way. What I see here is a value in aiming the arrow and then being okay with wherever that arrows ends up. Or, cliche though it is:
“Aim for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”
of Inner Workings wrote Starting to Garden
in which she shared her experiences of trying to be a perfect gardener, a perfect human, with a perfectly crossed off to do list in this very imperfect world and how gardening is a place where she learned to take things slowly and approach creativity in a new way:
“I have tried learning many new creative skills as an adult, and have succeeded at a few (which I would tell you about proudly,) and have failed at most (which I block from memory as much as I can). All of them I have invariably pursued in fits of urgency and a flurry of to-do lists and not a small dose of misery. I would be a great hobby pianist, guitarist, poet, entrepreneur, yogi, speaker of Spanish, singer, storyteller. I just had to get the right app and the right schedule and the gumption to push through. The garden is the one that fully stopped me in my efficient tracks. Starting to garden could not be, as I wanted, a large, sweeping overhaul of myself and my plot of land. It was rather the little daily moves I could make to great effect, the few plantings or clippings that, left for a year or three, yield fruits or notable shapes or a new patch of sun or shade that I wanted, or, in the best cases, a delightful surprise.”
We have perfectionist tendencies for all kinds of different reasons and we often believe that the right app/schedule/whatever is the answer but often the answer is to allow for imperfection. I find that craft and art are terrific places to practice this so that then we can allow them in other areas of life as well.
of Between a Rock and a Card Place shared 7 Things I (Almost) Learned Last Year
which reminds us to embrace/accept the lowlights, not just the highlights:
“2023 did not go according to plan (that is, when I bothered to make plans, which I rarely did, as I was often too afraid). I crushed zero goals. On the work front, I pitched less and shied away from big projects I didn’t have the bandwidth for. As a result, this was the lowest earning year I’ve ever had. I ended December with fewer subscribers than I had going into it. C’est la vie.
I share this not to whine or garner sympathy, but in an attempt to normalize downturns. Despite what the collective highlight reel would have us believe, the graph — of productivity, contentment, healing, achievement, wisdom, what-have-you — does not trend ever upward. And that is okay.
The low notes aren’t fun, but they are part of any venture, including that big one called Life. As the highlight reels and “best of” lists reign supreme, remember there are no highlights without everything that falls beneath them.”
of Danielle’s Newsletter shared Why I Have to Write My Story
about listening to the message in Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert and working to move forward with her memoir …
“Fear has stopped me from writing. The oppressive voice of the perfectionist, the imposter syndrome, the crippling anxiety that I can’t do it—as in write my memoir. I can’t tell the story well enough. It won’t be good enough, and I’m not good enough at writing.
This perhaps may seem funny because, after all, I pound out these newsletter posts pretty regularly and without much effort and thought into them. I am blessed to read and write very quickly.
It’s a mental hurdle, undoubtedly. But when it comes to putting the stories all together in my memoir, I’ve faced a mental hurdle, imposed upon my own self.
But I have to do this. Why? Because since I haven’t, as I don’t, it still continues to haunts me.”
It’s a great piece about how we need stories, especially survivor stories. Each one of us has a unique particular story to tell and we can tell it and sometimes must tell it. Or it will keep haunting us and then we won’t be able to create much of anything anyway because it’s all circling back to that.
of Entering The Lung wrote The Damning Lists:
“About three days ago I hit a wall. If you have been following this newsletter (or whatever you wanna call it…) you’d know I have been deep in a couple heavy (for me anyway) songwriting projects. They are very difficult and also rewarding and both come with waves of self doubt and fatigue in addition to the joy, the belly laughs and creative highs. The spilt of highs and lows, which I have studied closely in my long experience, should look like about 2/3rd’s creative high, and one third struggle. Both parts are elemental to the sum. They can’t exist without each other. They make up the ingredients of the creative loaf you are patting together with your dirty little hands.
Hitting a wall is not to be breezed past. It’s a very real warning that you must at least pause. It’s a rock thrown up from another car’s tire that cracks your windshield and scares the crap out of you, if only for a second. The rock in my windshield came from (where else?) social media, about five days ago. The crack let in the bulb-warmed filet-o-fish feeling of unmistakable depression. I was genuinely afraid. I work very hard not to let it in and it’s especially hard in this time of horrifying slaughter. It started to drain my will to make things in a very real way.”
I share this for a few reasons: the recognition that there are highs and lows in every single creative project, the vivid imagery that makes the writing draw me in, and the last sentence … a reminder that external things in our world as well as internal things in our mind can drain us of the will to create. Noticing, processing, being with what’s going on helps us return to the creativity.
Also, the actual piece is about lists of “women songwriters” and how the continued habit of dividing and ranking creatives is problematic. Go read that part; it’s important.
RELATED: The elephant on my chest by of Lemon Soul:
“As someone who was diagnosed with clinical depression in the aftermath of traumatic events, I have visited the darkest of places, but I have also been very fortunate to have found my way back. These days the elephant rarely comes this close, but when she does, with her, descends the inescapable and definite feeling that the world would be a better place without me in it.
I pause here, not for dramatic effect, but because this deserves a pause. Firstly to make an assurance that despite feeling this at times, it is not something I will EVER act on, so I am not in danger; and secondly to say to all of you who have felt this, please know it is not just you. ‘You are not alone’ is not a trope, it is truth.”
Note: I’m sharing Emma’s piece above as “related” to that of Neko Case above that because I was moved by the way that they both took the pause in these pieces. Emma’s piece is powerful piece about depression that moved me in other ways as well, but I wanted to draw out this part - the value of the pause. A pause for ourselves when we need one. A pause for our readers when we want to be clear about something and make sure they know it. Let’s pause more.
of The Touchonian shared Build a Fortress Around the Creative Life:
“An artist can be demoralized by many different things. Not only lack of financial support from one’s work, (that can be solved by a number of different solutions), but also by a lack of time, a lack of energy, a lack of discipline, a lack of organization, a lack of concentration, a lack of stamina and especially a lack of a plan. All of these things and many others can be demoralizing for a creative person causing hopelessness, resentment, a lack of confidence and trust, and a general negativity making it nearly impossible to move forward or to reach deeply.
For this reason, an artist needs to learn how to think correctly, strategize correctly, adopt and shape the right philosophy, gain control over the mind, avoid addiction, become equanimous in heart and mind, commit to their pursuits with clarity and determination, shape their environment and relationships to be conducive to their creative intentions. These things, when mastered build a fortress around the artist’s creative life so that circumstances cannot dislodge them from their purpose.”
I’m not sure that I would describe what an artist needs to do in quite the same way. For me, it’s less about controlling the mind than noticing thoughts without judgment and being curious about what works for you instead of attaching to the things that are demoralizing. But although I’d phrase it differently, it’s a similar concept. And I love this idea that we can build a fortress around our creative life.
Mental Health and Creative Identity/ Self-Perception
of Ask Polly shared I Finally Got My Mom Out of My Head!
which is an awesome follow up to a letter sent previously by someone who provides an update:
“In the past year my relationship with my mom has improved astronomically. Two big reasons for that, I think: 1) I started a band this year (!!) and started writing songs for it, which have increased my sense of purpose and self-trust about 100 fold and thus made me much less defensive and more relaxed, despite it being an extremely intense and challenging project …”
I love everything about Heather’s response, which includes in part:
“Let this be a lesson to anyone who’s fallen into the habit of describing themselves as lazy or moody or overwhelmed by life. Start digging a little and you’ll discover that you’re secretly ambitious, wildly romantic, and anxious to overachieve on every front. Sensitive, intense, thoughtful humans want a lot from life, so much that it hurts. We want so much that we avoid knowing how much we want. And when we avoid and avoid and avoid, living in fear of our true desires, we become misaligned with our true natures — and with nature itself, for matter.
Even though we were ebullient, idealistic, and optimistic as small children, our disappointments and frustrations accumulate and we start to describe ourselves as disorganized, lazy, impatient, critical, inconsistent, demanding, and/or impossible to please. But none of those traits are actually signs that you’re a complete dirt bag with low standards. They’re signs that you’re a person who wants MORE.”
Notice the words that you use to describe yourself. Ask yourself if you would use those words to describe a child, a friend, a lover, a mentor … Ask yourself which words you really want to use to describe yourself. Create the life that allows you to use those words more readily. And it works both ways, change the words you use and allow that life to flourish.
of wrote The aesthetic subcultures and the floating world
which is a mesmerizing piece about different subcultures, noticeable in large part by their fashion choices, but really fascinating when looked at through a lens of social criticism.
"Dark academia is not an aesthetic of outward-facing social protest motivated and fueled by despair. Dark academia actually represents a denial of the angsty doomism favored by goth; instead of weeping over a meaningless world, dark academia seeks to return, in the mind at least, to a world that didn’t seem to have lost its meaning yet.
… Dark academia considers the difficulties of the world to be beneath notice, something only the plebes would care about anyway; and with those clothes on you know they won’t be working with their hands or otherwise needing to earn their living. They will stay in their hallowed halls of learning, and they will study, pushing themselves ever forward and onward, ever more rigorously, toward a fuller engagement with the life of the mind.
… However, the people involved in dark academia can themselves forget the point of the aesthetic; they can get so wrapped up in the pursuit of it that they forget their aesthetic is meant as a reproach to the culture’s habits of easy subjectivity; they can begin to see reading, study, the hallowed halls, and all the rest as a particular set of accoutrements to the good life.”
That last point is true about so many subcultures and groups and even in self-definitions … we can get so wrapped up in the ways we define ourselves, internally or externally, that we become a narrow slice of what we really are all about.
has changed the name of her Substack from Prone to Hyperbole to Letters from a Muslim Woman
and I am so here for it. She explains in her post:
“As I continued writing, I realized that I was partitioning the different aspects of my identity each time I wrote to you. I was asking myself, does this writing discuss my Muslim-ness, or not, and then sharing the posts under different headings, either as part of Prone to Hyperbole, or as part of my Letters from a Muslim Woman series.
But here’s the thing: that segmentation came from an implicit fear that some of you may not like the Muslim side of me. That if that side came on too strong or showed too much, you might leave. Many of us third-culture kids know how to code switch, and do it seamlessly, transitioning between our more palatable identities in wider society to our ethnic identities in smaller circles, depending on the circumstances.
I realized recently that all my posts are really Letters from a Muslim Woman.”
I can’t say it better than she does. And I’m so glad for her bravery in showing up as her whole authentic self.
Mental Health and Creative Business
of Emotional Support Lady shared We Don’t Know What We Don’t Know
and it touches upon some of the complexities I encounter in the center of the Venn diagram of art, business, and mind. The mind has a lot of power to influence the way we experience the details of how art and business work together.
“Isn’t it likely that my editor, who works on rom com books for a living, has a better grasp of how these stories work than me? And shouldn’t I see her suggestion as an opportunity to improve my work instead of viewing it as a threat to my abilities as a writer? (This is all the humility part.)
Once I accepted this, though, my anxiety started to kick in because it would mean some major changes and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to pull it off. That’s when I had to lean on my experience as a writer and trust that even if I don’t know how to take all her notes today, I will likely figure it out along the way. (That’s the confidence part.)
So that is the approach I am hoping to take for the next two months as I do a major rewrite. I will try to remain confident that I am good enough to take her suggestions while remaining humble enough to view her suggestions as a gift instead of a burden.”
Allison’s post shares a book by Adam Grant and the concept of rethinking and she explains how she’s applying it here. Reframing is powerful work in mental health and it’s something that we can utilize when art and business rub up against each other in uncomfortable ways.
RELATED: How to Re-Shape Your Story, a guest post by on Resurface by
“I think that when we are in a story, it can be so hard to see, objectively, whether it’s helping or hindering us. I’m far more able, now, to step outside of the story. To witness events in isolation for what they are, rather than as part of a catastrophic narrative. I have come to understand, too, that I write about my life because forming new stories helps me wrestle the internal and external chaos into something beautiful. I write because I cannot get enough of those vapoury, blissful moments of flow. Above all, I write because I am fiercely protective of my mental health. Writing is medicine. It’s not my only medicine, but it is the most potent.”
of Words and pictures by Kathryn Anna Marshall shared Kathryn Anna Writes Bespoke - A new adventure
exploring her love of writing poetry, her debate with the part of her that wants a more stable income, and her decision to dive deep into poetry with a new adventure.
“Content writing is an art. It demands understanding of SEO, understanding of marketing and a supreme desire to work within the consumer-driven world. After a couple of months exploring courses and tips from marketing gurus I realised that this was not where I wanted to be – and was probably not a world where I would thrive. I’ve never been a natural business person, and never really enjoyed the conventional corporate world. Shoehorning myself back there felt like a step backwards, a betrayal of all I’d learned about myself and what matters to me.”
This is so honest and I relate to so much of it. Content writing was my bread and butter for many years, something I liked and then hated and then was okay with and then burned out and then balanced with other things (not in any particular linear order.) It is currently still how my money comes in while I try to figure out how to make Substack actually work financially. It’s complicated. By we can’t betray ourselves once we know what matters to us. Inspiring new work Kathryn Anna!
RELATED: From of The Middle Finger Project in Predictable Little Cowards Do Not Make Money
“Ironically, the more you choose a path because of the income potential, the more broke you’re going to be, because the less you’re going to want to do any of it. You won’t want to talk about it. You won’t want to write about it. You won’t want to scream about it from the rooftops. And that means your marketing is going to feel like torture, and your days are going to feel like sludge, and you’re going to have a really hard time getting any traction, because people can tell when you are faking it.So, don’t do that to yourself, okay? It is the wrong decision.Follow your enthusiasm, your incandescence, your effervescence. Trust your curiosity. Your curiosity isn’t frivolous: it’s a map back home to yourself.”
I need to re-read that daily.
of A Weaver's Diary shared The Hidden Costs of Charging More
as part of her important How to Stop Working For Free Series. In it, she shares how she decided to finally price all of her tapestries at a value that actually accounted for the real work she put into them, how hopeful she was, and how it resulted in …
“not a single sale.
To say I was crushed was an understatement. But more alarmingly, because I’d spent the best part of two months working on this collection at the expense of other parts of my business, I was now financially in a very tight spot. I’d even taken out a high-interest emergency loan to cover the time when I’d been working on these tapestries, feeling sure that once the collection launched I’d be able to pay it back.
I somehow managed to claw my way back into a better financial position in early 2022, but I was scarred by the whole experience.”
She lived the very thing that so many creatives fear and that is the reason many don’t price their work higher, often to their own detriment (burnout, etc.) She goes on to explain, though, that she realized she could price her work higher, but it meant taking a different approach to business. She’s an example of continuing on even when the business of art hurts you.
of Kaliko Journal shared Year in Review 2023
and I really loved how she acknowledged that the year wasn’t some big celebration of creative success but that there were some great things that she did as a human living this life because really, isn’t that what is important. And this:
“I took a part-time job in February last year, pretty much on a whim, as I was still burnt out (depressed?) and realised that relying on Kaliko to finance a construction site is a bit too much to ask. It would probably be technically possible but also disastrous for my mental health so this is the first time I really stepped in for myself and I am glad I did. I wanted something quiet and easy, so I found a job as Office & HR Management for a company in a culture sector, working mostly for national museums.
I was prepared to suck at it and hate it. After almost a year I think I am actually good at it and I enjoy it. Wait, what…? I know, lol, surprise to me, too. It was a blessing for my well-being: having a steady pay check, more routine in my day-to-day, working in a team again and learning (loads!) of new stuff, proving myself I am actually smart.”
I share this specifically because as a lifelong creative working mostly for myself, I have come to learn that there are critical times in our lives when we might need or want to take on some kind of work that isn’t furthering our creative careers in an obvious way. This can feel like giving up or getting off track but actually it’s just the best thing for us right at that moment. Sometimes having financial stability from an “easy” job is what is actually best for both our mental health and creativity. It doesn’t mean you’re not an artist anymore. In relation to this, I find Barbara Sher’s books on creative living really helpful.
of Every Shade of Grey shared Silent January is Doing its Worst
about the common challenge in January of each year for people running creative businesses to find that the year is getting off to a slow start and to panic with fear and anxiety about what this might mean.
“Whether you run your own business or work freelance, if you define yourself as self-employed, starting the year can be one of the most challenging, confidence draining moments of the whole ‘going it alone’ set up. Everyone is grateful for the end of the barage of emails on 24th December and relishes recuperating from the year’s toil with friends, family and festivities. Slamming that laptop closed for maybe the only guaranteed break of the year is beyond a relief. But when 17th January comes around and the inbox is still absolutely crickets, the deafening silence can start to feel fucking terrifying.Amongst my many freelance friends who work across creative and media fields, silent January is a well-established phenomenon. Some of them go to pieces with worry every year as the tumbleweed blows through town, others go to Bali to bliss out and ignore the feeling of being no-mates Nancy. But whatever you do, it’s almost impossible to remain untouched by the sense you’ve failed to launch into the new year.”
I haven’t ever experienced this myself, not as a January-specific thing. I have typically earned my bread and butter writing “content” to support other creative writing and most businesses seem to have big plans and goals at the start of a new year so they’re happy to pay for “content”. This year has been different in that I’m in grad school again so I’m just enjoying the winter break and preparing for the new semester so I’m not focused on generating income (but really looking forward to the student loan money that should hit my account soon.)
That said, I know all about the ebbs and flows of income as a creative sole proprietor and the way it can trigger this terrible anxiety cycle about how I’m never going to make money ever again. Which immediately makes me think about this:
From of because she has to in I failed at failure
which is about failing a driver’s test but about so much more …
“The irony was, it was my spiralling reaction to thinking I’d failed when I stalled at some traffic lights (I hadn't) that caused me to actually fail. When I made this mistake, I instantly kicked into defeated mode. I completely lost focus on the task at hand, gave up and made a really dangerous mistake that would have resulted in a crash if the examiner hadn’t slammed on the dual control brakes. (I know…)
Once I believed that I’d failed and believed that the whole rest of the exam was pointless, I just tapped out and started berating myself on a loop, thoughtlessly rushing to get back to the test centre and away as fast as possible. (Thank goodness I did fail! Because this girl was NOT safe to be let loose on the roads).”
in an interview with of Beyond with Jane Ratcliffe shared:
“This isn’t recent advice, but it shapes the way I think about my freelance writing and my creative writing. I saw a documentary about The Wrecking Crew, a group of session musicians who played on a lot of hit albums. One member of The Wrecking Crew, Tommy Tedesco, laid out four reasons to take the gig. He said, take the gig for: 1) the money, 2) the connections, 3) the experience, or 4) because you think it’ll be fun.
There’s a lot of practical wisdom there. Money is important because you need money, obviously. Connections are important because the people you work with determine your future opportunities. Experience is important because that’s how you learn. Fun is important because, well, if I have to explain why fun is important, you’ve got bigger fish to fry, and you should go fry those fish immediately.”
I think this can be a really helpful frame/guide especially for those of us who struggle with creative business decisions. We struggle for all kinds of reasons - depression causes indecisiveness, imposter syndrome and fears of failure/success impede out choices, overwhelm paralyzes us … but if we can ask ourselves: “does this offer money, connections, experience or fun?” and whether or not we want one or more of those things, I think it can help us move past that gap.
shared an interview with Amy Belfi on the Cognition, Neuroscience, and Creation of Music
“John and Amy also discussed the role of a musician as an artist and how the profession is sometimes seen as frivolous when, in actuality, it is quite necessary. She grew up hearing that she shouldn’t pursue music because her parents and peers wanted her to make money—implying that there’s none to be made in music. So, she studied another passion: psychology. However, she eventually made her way back to music and was able to combine the two.”
So much richness in this entire piece but this particular part highlights how often even today kids/humans are steered away from doing what they’re passion about it because “it doesn’t make money.”
of Get Real, Man shared Why can’t I just pick a niche
which reminds me that sometimes it’s valuable to see our creative activities as “work” or “business” and sometimes it’s just as valuable that we don’t look at them that way:
“A little over a year into this newsletter, it’s apparent (to me anyways) that this is not a business. Or if it is a business, it’s a very poorly run one. Maybe that means I should be fired and someone more dedicated to the business should be brought in. I will be happy to accept resumes if you have recommendations. What this Substack actually is, at least right now, is a playground. It’s a place for art: to practice art, to explore my art, to bring my whole self into the art as I grow and develop and experiment — day in and day out. …
Say what you will about the quality of that art (but maybe say it kindly, or behind closed doors, I’m a sensitive soul)1; this is my place to represent the significance of the world to my inward self. And to quote Hippocrates in full: “life is short, the art long.” I’m interested in the second half of that quote. Because if we’re playing a long game, a ten or even a hundred year game, then our models change. I’m no longer maximizing what I can get today, but how I can continue to do this work for as long as possible. How can I continue to love the growth, the challenge, the learning that it takes to approach the essence of greatness in this art? And that’s the point of this space: to spend my life (as a writer, as a spiritual seeker, as a human) approaching greatness.”
Which relates to what I shared earlier (up above) about seeing my own art/writing as a body of work.
of Jodi Spins Stories shared Seven tips to survive social media
“As authors,1 we’re expected to do a significant chunk of our own marketing on social media. You already know this.
What began as a quick way for authors to update interested readers with book sales, cover reveals, and in-person events became an actual part of the author’s job — made more difficult as chronological timelines disappeared and algorithm-curated home feeds took over. “Author will promote on their social media channels” started showing up as a bullet point on publishers’ marketing/publicity plans. And while follower numbers don’t actually determine whether a (fiction) book will get picked up, audience size can play a role in advance size and support, as well as an author’s willingness to promote their own work.
Friends, it stinks.
Okay? Let’s just get that over with. It stinks. It doesn’t actually move the needle for most of us and it’s a whole lot of unpaid work that feels necessary but — since, again, it doesn’t make a meaningful difference in sales numbers — isn’t. Even if you have something go viral, the sales bump is unlikely to make a difference that is worth the time and effort on your part.2”
I really appreciated that she shared he perspective that you don’t HAVE to do any social media as an author, that you can choose to do social media in a way that works better for you, and offered some practical tips that you can take or leave to assist in the journey. I have always struggled with the marketing aspect of being a writer … not because I have any qualms with marketing myself but because, like many creatives, I want to do the work not promote the work. It’s a different skill set, a different interest. I’ve mostly come to peace with it although that changes with changes in social media and changes in me. But it’s a “thing” for a lot of us to grapple with.
RELATED: From of Human Stuff from Lisa Olivera in Observations, Past and Present
“In place of Instagram, I’ve been journaling more. Attempting to learn to knit again. Reading pages of books and newsletters instead of posts. Not sharing photos of my daily doings. Sitting. Doing nothing and remembering what it’s like to just do nothing. Examining how my work and writing has been affected by Instagram. Examining who I am without a “following”. Leaving my phone in the other room. Exploring being a writer without the added pressure to also be a content creator. Considering what it would look like to open a therapy practice again (!!!). Wanting to re-center being of service. Questioning whether I want to be a Public Figure at all. Questioning what being a Public Figure has done to my psyche, my creativity, my voice. Feeling myself breathe. Not multitasking. Grieving what has been lost because of these apps. Noticing what’s been gained. Feeling more willing to let go of what needs letting go.”
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How Art Heals
of Slice of Midlife shared Connective Tissue
which has introduced me to a topic I plan to dig deeper into:
“Did you know that in addition to taking classes on anatomy, biology, and pathology, in medical school, your doctor may have spent time doing a close text examination of an Alison Bechtel graphic novel or following a prompt to write about a time when they felt ashamed?
Courses in narrative medicine are part of the curriculum at most U.S. medical schools. A few schools like Columbia University also offer narrative medicine certificate programs and Masters programs. NWNM is a nonprofit organization with a unique blend of widely accessible offerings.
Through storytelling and highlighting a range of perspectives — healthcare providers, patients, caregivers, spiritual advisors and more —narrative medicine aims to improve the delivery of healthcare.”
of Suzan Colón wrote This Will Make You Smile
“People think that because I’ve studied Yoga for so long, I must be a master meditator. Big LOL on that! Sometimes I can meditate fairly well, and other times meditation just adds to my stress levels. In 2001, a time of great turmoil in my life, I learned how to knit, and in 2017, I learned how to crochet. Friends, stitching is meditation without frustration. I blended my meditation training from teaching Yoga with fiber arts and created medKNITation, a system of meditation using knitting and crochet. If you’re a knitter1, you already know stitching is meditative, but this amplifies the effects.”
When I first started researching the benefits of crochet as therapy for my books Crochet Saved My Life and Hook to Heal, so few people were writing about it, although a few were writing about knitting as therapy, and over a decade later, it still really delights me whenever I see anyone working in this area. Suzan Colon hosted her “first live medKNITation session on Saturday, January 13 from 9-10 am ET.
of Michael Mohr's Sincere American Writing wrote Facing the Blank Page
and while I expected to find insight there into writer’s block or procrastination or whatever else I assume the blank page to hold, what captured me most in this piece was:
“Expectations seem to be the major tepid curse. We expect and we fall. People fail us because we hold them up to be bigger, better, more perfect than they actually are. We’re all hopelessly wounded, flawed, afraid, uncertain, unglued, and capable of great harm and great love.
These inner monsters come out through my fingertips onto the screen, devastating the whiteness of the sordid blank page. The more black letters cover the whiteness the better, the safer I feel. It’s not about color; it’s about sanity, safety, reprieve. Art is creation, as I said.”
of What Works launched What Makes this Remarkable
with a look at the podcast 60 songs that explain the ‘90s which I now plan to binge and in it also shares:
“I've shared before that the emotion I always have in mind when I'm writing is relief. When I approach a subject, I consider whether there's a way for me to explore it so that I can make even one person out there feel some sense of relief. Maybe they feel relief that they're not the only one. Or that they finally have language for something they couldn't quite articulate. Or maybe, even ideally, they just stop worrying about something because they decide it just doesn't matter.
What's beautiful, to me anyway, is that I end up feeling the relief, too. I'm not always happy when I finish a piece, but I'm relieved to have thought the thoughts and gotten them down on paper. I'm relieved that I found words for something I couldn't articulate before. I'm relieved that I can stop worrying about the jumble of questions that had been occupying my brain space.”
I have definitely lived this experience of writing for relief - much of my long history with journaling is about this and I’m definitely someone who writes to understand myself. But I don’t think I’ve ever exactly named the value in writing for the relief of others, even though that’s also something I’ve done a lot of in my work. I love this frame.
Angie of @Angie’s Substack is sharing daily slow starts of inspiration
which each explore holistic wellness in ways that I find inspiring, particularly as they align with my word of the year. On Day 2, she shared Doodle Forest: Where Imagination Blooms, which says in part:
“Your hand moves with ease, and you can feel the tension melting away with each stroke. Like a forest stroll, Doodling is a gentle exercise that promotes relaxation and relieves stress.
With every doodle, you express your emotions without words. It's like the forest, where each tree silently conveys its story. Doodling provides an outlet for your feelings and a chance to find balance.”
I started doodling in sort of a zentangle fashion at the end of the semester, something I hadn’t done in ages, and I’ve been finding it so beneficial. Do you doodle?
RELATED: of Wendy MacNaughton is doing 30 days of drawing/doodling prompts
And shared in Day 3:
“Inspiration for today’s doodle comes from two artists/activists: Keith Haring and Friedensreich Hundertwasser. Both artists worked with lines and icons, and used repeating patterns in their work. Some might say, they DOODLED.
They also both addressed issues that they cared about within the drawing they created. In a way, they used their drawing practice to manifest more of what they wanted to see in the world. This is similar to what we’re going to do today… so let’s take a quick peek at these two artists work and lives for inspiration.”
shared a guest post over at Midstory Magazine (which is by ) on Finding Joy in 2024
and highlights a daily writing practice she’s been doing since 2017, sharing the three good things that happened in the day:
“Through this practice, I have also learned the art of cognitive reframing. Because I am committed to writing a list of my particularly good things each day, I sometimes have to find joy on horrible, no good, very bad days. These days are hard — the day our dog died, the day I lost my most important writing notebook, the day my son’s best friend since childhood died unexpectedly from an illness at age 20. Even on those days I find a small thing (or three) to appreciate, to recognize as good even among the bad. I have learned to do the work of recognizing my own bad moods and negative thought patterns. With this awareness, I can work to reframe the negativity, to pull out of a negative thought spiral, to give myself the gift of something positive to focus on. I’m not perfect at this, I still get stuck at times, but it’s not as hard anymore.”
She notes that she has never stuck with a daily journal or similar things but has found this specific practice to be something that sticks, that works, that betters her life again and again.
of Creative Block shared Impact Through Art
with a story that brought tears to my eyes, only a part of which is:
“Meeting Elena was a blend of nervousness and excitement. Out of all the designs she had to choose from, she picked mine. She was drawn to the colors and vibrancy, and that filled my heart with immense joy. My art resonated with her in a profound way.
This moment was especially precious to me because, as an artist who often creates work for brands and clients, I don't always get to witness firsthand the impact of my art. But that day, I not only had the honor of gifting her the prosthetic leg but also witnessing her put it on and walk.”
WOW. Read the whole article. <3
@Suzy Walker of Heart Leap in "I write to make myself strong and come home, and it may be the only real home I'll ever have.”
describes so well how writing heals …
“Home, I discovered, is not a place.
There is literally no place like home.
Because home is a feeling.
For me, home is a feeling of safety, refuge, belonging, and love. It’s a sense of community; it’s creativity and connecting with myself and others.
Writing helps me to connect with all of those feelings on a daily basis.
Writing takes me home.”
The Power of Experiencing Art
of A.M. Sketching shared Reading to Cats
“Recently my friend Kate Morgan Reade took a copy of my book Numpurrs to a cat shelter where readers are participating in Cat Tales - Kids Reading to Cats at the Caring for Cats shelter in North St. Paul, MN.”
You must go see the photos of children reading to cats. I have seen this program regularly for dogs. One big reason behind it is that children who may be afraid to read aloud because they have difficulty with reading or are afraid of being bullied or whatever read instead to dogs who are kind, compassionate listeners. I’d never seen it with cats before. Love this.
of Good Footprints shared (The Other) Best Reads of 2023
and the intro might be my very favorite thing I’ve read about why books/writing are so powerful:
“I crawled through a week-long blizzard during polar winter near the Arctic Circle. I languished in a submarine, swam above the Mariana Trench and flung myself near the speed of light — more than once — past the Kuiper Belt. I’ve been to art school, run with reindeer and flown with dragons. I was sentenced to death for witchcraft, led a climate revolution, hypothesized about the aliveness of a paradoxical cat, and fought greedy oil conglomerates. I’ve dodged bullets in war zones, midnight-brainstormed with Obama, and mind-melded with a pensive, gender non-binary mountain lion living in the hills of LA.
I’ve revisited the past, glimpsed — and changed — the future, mopped (real) rivers of tears from my face, experienced love, gutting loss, fiery lust, agonizing pain and simple joy of humanity through other people’s eyes and hearts, all while deepening compassion and adding to my range of perspective.
ALL OF THIS from looking at the same small set of characters in different arrangements on paper. HOW IS THAT NOT MAGIC?!”
of Taking Personal Inventory shared Creative People Will Find a Way:
“I write because it helps me to connect to the big guy, the Source, whatever you choose to call it. I like Source, but I also use higher power, and sometimes I just go with God. All I know is I'm not in control, and that's just fine by me.
I also read other people's work because it helps me to connect, not only with them and the source of all their power, but because it challenges me, it informs me, it amuses me. It's that connection to other people that I'm really after.”
Whenever the word “God” grates against me (which isn’t always or often but it happens for various reasons), I immediately remember Julia Cameron’s redirecting of the word into “good orderly direction” … some people complain that The Artist’s Way is too spiritual for them but for me it was actually one of the first spiritual practices I ever worked with and what worked for me was that she basically said, “call it whatever works for you and move forward”.
RELATED (and said beautifully) from of My Sweet Dumb Brain in The Year of Helping Others:
“To help people, we have to connect. We must first connect with ourselves in order to reach a place of wellness and generosity. We must connect with others so we can bear witness to their hurts and needs. And we must connect with our communities, to offer support where it most matters.”
of Mary’s Pocketful of Prose shared Shedding Other Voices and Seeking What is True to Me
which is about a terrific conversation she had with Claire Coenen about the creative life and setting intentions for writing and sharing that writing. In it, this section reminding us of the power of being a reader:
“I share my writing so that others can feel seen. In reading Andrea Gibson’s piecethe other day, I realized that every time I read what they write, I feel better about myself and the world. I want people who read my writing to feel that way too. I want my writing to encourage people to let go of shame. I want people to know that they are not alone, that they are part of something bigger, a community. Reading the work of others has offered me so much hope, light and laughter. I offer my writing in reciprocity for those gifts, hopeful that someone will find the same gifts in my words.”
of Mulching in Welcome to Mulching
expands really beautifully on the power of how reading impacts us in a piece I highly recommend reading in full that includes, in part:
“These three years of engaging with various writers and thinkers have involved a process of layering rich, compostable material on top of the soil of my mind. Each new idea formed a wood chip, a shred of leaf, a crumb of bark, that carried nutrients from the mind of someone significantly wiser than myself to be mulched into intellectually enriching humus for my brain. The process of meditating on and writing about these ideas took on a similar role to that of earthworms and soil aerators: digesting the nutrients from the humus and working them into the soil, creating something fertile and ready for growth.”
of Things Worth Knowing with Farrah Storr shared How I learned to dress myself (aged 45 and a quarter)
“There is a dress that hangs in my wardrobe that has no place being there. It is the daintiest little thing: puffed-sleeved, semi-transparent and covered in dozens of laser-cut daisies. It is not my style at all, which has always tended towards the mannish and sombre. Why then has it remained there, worn just once on a summer’s afternoon nine years ago? I shall tell you why: because of the way it made me feel.”
which touches on an aspects of experiencing art that I think most of us engage with but maybe don’t think that much about. Because experiencing art isn’t just taking in great literature or going to an art museum - it’s about everyday fashion and food and all of the other things that delight our senses. There is so much power in noticing that.
RELATED: From The Immortal Jellyfish & Intuition by of The Isolation Journals with Suleika Jaouad
written in a prompt by Alex Bertram about “what Susan Sontag calls the “equivocal magic” of photographs" …
“My mind was lost in the portrait, and the layers embedded in it. What could it tell me about her? Or about the photographer, H. Walter Barnett, who’d slipped from cultural memory? About the circumstances surrounding the making of the portrait—the before, during, and after?
As I explored its story, I saw that I was drawn to the creativity that’s inherent in allthe things we interact with in our day-to-day lives but that we do not see. The portrait’s visual tension, insights, and trickery were all part of the same thing: my enduring interest in the hidden creativity of ordinary things. The revelation helped me to arrange my materials and begin to tell the story of the portrait’s life.”
Note: The intro essay by Suleika is filled with richness; do read it!
of Literary Merit shared ten authors she wants to read this year
“I own more books than I have room for, yet I browse the Libby app every Tuesday to borrow new releases for my Kindle. I try to keep up with new titles that spark my curiosity, but I'm curious about many more books than I have time to read. Plus, focusing so much on new stuff leaves me less time to read backlist titles. I tell you all this because there are books and authors I've wanted to explore for years, but I just haven't done it yet thanks to the tidal wave of books at my disposal every waking second.
I started my new book journal for 2024, and one of the sections I included is a list naming the writers whose work I want to read this year. I want to share my list and encourage you to create one of your own. I've read some of these authors before, and I'm unfamiliar with others, only aware of their stellar reputations. My list isn't about what I think I need to read; it's full of writers I want to read.”
I think this highlights several key things related to the power of experiencing art (in this case, specifically, books …)
There’s something beautiful about the inspiration process that comes with just adding new titles to your life, whether or not you read them all … I regularly add books to my “for later” shelf on my library’s website and while I do intend to read them there’s actually something just about the ritual of seeing what’s being published that I love.
And yet, if we focus entirely on consuming new media of any kind, then we miss out on the richness of the inspiration we are truly really seeking, so it’s important to go back and dig deeper as well. For Andrea, it’s the list … for me, it’s usually about picking a specific topic or keyword and then digging deep into that. I do this regularly for certain topics (San Francisco, for example) and for a focused period of time for others (like my word of the year).
When considering where to put your energy in terms of experiencing art, ask yourself if it’s what you really want to explore or if you have this feeling you just “should”.
RELATED: Private Libraries as Bibliophilic Paradise by of Great Books + Great Minds
“In my own tranquil library, a fusion of both physical and digital realms, I find my sanctuary. The books, the music, and the enduring essence of my father merge into a tapestry rich with inspiration and peace.
This library is not just an assemblage of texts; it is a living homage to the unyielding power of knowledge, a nod to history, and a guiding light for the future. It is in this sacred space that I lose myself, only to find myself anew.”
Adam Smyth of TEXT! wrote about Reading several things at once
“We may think of reading as our solitary immersement in a single book, but that’s not really what happens. We read while we are doing other things – our eye tracking through Spare by Prince Harry or Marcel Proust’s Finding Time Again (taste vary), but our mind all the time turning over the sound of traffic outside, the turning hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen, the list of things you haven’t yet done, the thing your friend said yesterday. And while we might imagine ‘good’ reading as the silencing of these other voices, in reality reading is always about the entangling of the book in front of us with all the other things going on in our head. Reading is always about many texts at the same time; reading is always plural and, in that sense, necessarily unfocused and dispersed.”
This is definitely true for me - what I’m reading informs what I’m experiencing and vice versa, ties into what I’m taking in and putting out in conversation and creativity. Adam goes on to share an experience of reading two texts at the same time:
“The effect of reading them together meant they bled into each other: the boundaries of the two texts were permeable.” …
“To mash up the sentences like this looks startling, but it captures what was happening in my head as I toggled between the two, and in fact what always happens when we read.”
of Wolf shared The Boy and The Heron
which is a review/overview of Miyazaki’s piece that also incorporates his own experiences as he watches and I was mesmerized by this description of how experiencing someone else’s art can be so powerful for us:
“I sat there dazzled, enraptured, the world sliding around and through me, wholly capturing me, captivating me, howling through me, and I gave into that world, that Play, and allowed myself to become a thrumming engine along with all the palpitating hearts thrumming in the chests around me, we all building this world together, bathed in Miyazaki’s hand drawn imagery, and I was struck dumb when Mahito tried to free his aunt, his new mother, from the cage of the birthing room where those paper birds recalled both Spirited Away but most of all the moment in Princess Mononoke when San, the wolf princess, tries to free Lord Okkoto, the blind boar god, from the curse enflaming him and his people towards suicide, towards a self-inflicted genocide, and I gasped, suddenly alone in that packed theatre, elbow to elbow with my cowriter, and the hooks within me, that I hadn’t noticed, all pulled at once when Mahito’s mother says goodbye, when his great-granduncle’s tower comes tumbling down, when his father tried to free him, his sword slashing through a maelstrom of enlarged and sentient parakeets, and I lost track of time, of myself, and I tumbled through time, through years, through the versions of me, of ydde, who sat and watched these many Ghibli movies on various beatup couches, on dirty carpets, in dark theatres, sitting at my desk where I wrote a column of every Studio Ghibli movie, but most of all to that very first time, to the first time I ever encountered one of these wonderful, terrifying, beautiful, worldending, lifechanging movies that led me through decades of influence, a decade of desolation, and I was again ten years old, my mouth agape, agapē—”
of Italicus: a writer's life in Italy shared Black Space and Equilibrium:
“What’s the point of looking at art? Is it to admire beauty or marvel at technique? Is it to understand better the times the artist lived in, or something of their environments? In “realistic” paintings or sketches we see a particular landscape, or a typical Renaissance bedroom, or the defensive existence of a medieval town—all glimpses into a time machine made of pigment and form, subject and perspective, canvas and board. Nothing wrong with any of that. I’m guilty of seeking beauty, of preferring art that matches my aesthetic taste—Botticelli! Gentileschi! Bonnard! Sargent! Van Gogh!—not that it’s a sin to indulge in what gives me that burst of dopamine. Pleasure comes not just from that dopamine jolt but also from our emotional responses to certain images, colors, compositions, juxtapositions. Or we might get teary simply because an artist does something we think is impossible for ourselves. Even when we’re being analytical or historical minded, art can sneak in and elevate us, transport us out of our safe little worlds. But often that happens despite ourselves.
What if we push beyond our preferences or defaults? What happens then? And how do we manage to let go of our boundaries? How do we look at art, and how does the how affect our artistic preferences?”
Yes, what if?
Art in Community
of I Am Happy shared I am happy in 2024
and articulated something I concur with:
“For me, creativity has been such a powerful tool to connect with myself and the world around me, and therefore to find my sense of joy. You don’t have to be a “creative” to use creativity as a tool for wellbeing - but then, I believe we’re all creatives at heart. Our species has been telling stories and making art since we began, and it’s the main way that we interpret the world. I think we’d all benefit a great deal from letting go of this idea that there are “creative types”, and then everyone else, and instead making creativity feel more accessible and free for everyone.”
of The Wild Forgotten shared Drawn to the Wild:
which reminds me that creativity in community isn’t limited to a community of human beings but perhaps is about being in community with all sentient beings …
“I create so that I can tell my subject I see you. I create so that I can embody the beauty and grace and wisdom of that being, to shapeshift in a tiny way as I take them inside me through deep observation and a hand that lovingly renders them in two dimensions. To become raven, or owl, or fox, or wolf in just the smallest way.
I see you.
I am drawn to the wild, I am drawn to drawing the wild. I am drawn to witnessing them as a way of witnessing myself, accepting and appreciating the animal body I walk around in, being humbled by their presence (while my own mind is often anywhere but in the present moment).”
When Art Harms/Triggers/Is Complicated
As I’ve explained, I use the terms “art” and “mental health” really broadly so sometimes what I share is just how art can be really complicated.
of Fidgets and Fries called What more do they want from a Speller?
which comes from her section called Aidan’s Communication Journey, described as: “An Aidan-led exploration into what works, what doesn't, and helping my son to acquire what he feels to be the best way for him to communicate with the world.” If you aren’t familiar with this, it’s all about her journey to help her nonspeaking autistic son be exactly himself in the fullest possible way, and it’s inspiring and educational and I’m always learning from it. She says:
“I want my son to grow up in a world where he isn’t constantly having to prove himself. I want to go to conferences with Nonspeakers and when they are asked “what do they want for their future” the answer doesn’t include, “learning how to type on the keyboard to prove to others that these are my thoughts.”
My heart broke listening to so many Nonspeakers feel like they still had so much to prove. Look at how far they have come! Look at what they did! They are showing people that they aren’t shells of human beings, that they ARE human beings. Someone is in there. And they know so much. Yet, they feel that they need to type to prove it to others.”
She explains what a CRP is, comparable in ways to a sign language interpreter, and how we fail as a society to recognize this option for interpretation because we fail, really, to believe that the nonspeaker is able to communicate if they can’t also use keyboard spellers and other very specific tools. She opens up the conversation to consider something broader and more inclusive …
of Goatfury Writes shared Solomon Shereshevsky
a journalist who remembered everything, was studied psychologically because of that, and performed as a mnemonist but at a cost to his mental health and wellbeing. He had a form of synesthesia that I found described as:
“fivefold synaesthesia, in which the stimulation of one of his senses produced a reaction in every other. For example, if Shereshevskii heard a musical tone played he would immediately see a colour, touch would trigger a taste sensation, and so on for each of the senses. The images that his synaesthesia produced usually aided him in memorizing.”
Andrew explains the problem:
“this wasn’t a tap he could turn off or a switch that could be flipped off.
Shereshevsky was stuck with vivid recall, and faced with an overwhelming amount of information coming in. This came at a significant cost to his daily life and psychological well-being.
Imagine never being able to forget anything. Not only would painful memories persist for your entire life, but every little trivial event in your life would crowd your thoughts, often making it difficult to concentrate on the present. This was S’s life.
Even worse, synesthesia saw to it that S would have a hard time dealing with routine daily tasks. A simple conversation could trigger a cascade of colors, tastes, and tactile sensations. This constant sensory overload made ordinary interactions and tasks unexpectedly challenging and exhausting.”
We all have unique minds and I find that cases like this one of extremely unique minds show us how complex it all is - a trait can be both a gift and a curse, it can help as well as harm.
of shared in their newsletter
some terrific creative lessons learned from taking a course and I love that the list of lessons begins with:
“Putting myself into a learning environment means I think more about my writing. This feels good.Putting myself into a learning environment means I overthink my writing. This does not feel good.”
I think whenever we stretch ourselves, we may come up against these challenges and tensions where it feels good and not good for a variety of reasons. I think sometimes those of us going through a hard mental health time can get lost in the not good part. But if we can focus on finding the balance where the good exists, remembering that feeling “not good” isn’t always a bad thing, then our stretching can be positive.
Wendy MacNaughton of Wendy MacNaughton shared in Doodle Finale
some “drawing fitness tips”
“A few of you expressed that you’ve been experiencing hand cramps and some physical discomfort while drawing. UGH. I’m sorry. That sucks. Every drawer has been there. Quick tips for drawing health: 1. When you draw, sit up straight with both feet on the ground. (Take it from the person in PT for a busted hip due to sitting with one foot up on her drafting chair for years.)”
Visit her post for more of those tips. I mention it here because, of course, all health is both mental and physical. But also because I’ve interviewed people who have expressed to me that because of their mental health symptoms, they sometimes create compulsively, leading to physical damage to their bodies in various forms. So, whether you just need to stretch a little because you write/draw/play/whatever too long in one sitting or you’re at that other end of the more compulsive spectrum, remember to stay in touch with your body.
In my book, Crochet Saved My Life, I included an appendix that offers hand exercises for crocheters, which I also find useful as a writer. For example, here is one for the fingers: “Place both of your pinkie fingers on the edge of a table. Press down on the table with your pinkie fingers, gently raising and lowering your hands a few times. Repeat for each of your other fingers.”
wrote Legends Never Die for
for paying subscribers which is absolutely worth paying for if you’re familiar with the movie Kids. Kids was a pivotal movie for me, and it was so interesting to read the back story behind it and what’s happened to some of the people since then. Including the ways in which being in the film catapulted some of them to amazing acting careers (Chloe Sevigny, Rosario Dawson) and took others to death (suicide, overdose) …
“Ronald says towards the end, Harold was preoccupied with how fame and notoriety affected him. “It’s like a sponge that won’t expand even if you soak it in water,” he says. It wasn’t just partying. His life didn’t only belong to him. Isn’t that what we always do to celebrities? “He was insecure. And he was jealous,” says Priscilla. “And he struggled just like everybody struggles with emotions. Sometimes he handled it well, and sometimes he did not handle it so well. He was a human, he was definitely not a saint. I think that's important.” Jefferson, Priscilla, Ronald, and others who knew Harold, switch between past and present tense when talking about him, as if he’s still here, as if no one will ever say goodbye.”
Fame, whether celebrity level or local or social media, is complicated and it can cause/exacerbate challenges in our lives.
BONUS: Short Shares and Grounding Us
At the start of each Friday, I share a quote or two from the week that grounds us in this space. And at the end of each selection, I share “short shares” that I don’t really elaborate on but they were excerpts that moved me so much I had to share them. Here’s the roundup of both those things shared in January 2024:
of Kindle Curiosity shared this week:
“When I talk about creative ecosystems what I mean is expanding your concept of creativity beyond the act of making. Every part of your lived experience makes up your creative ecosystem.”
This “holistic view of creativity” is exactly what I’m wanting for all of us creatives. I look at the shadow side of how art impacts creativity because I believe that understanding those difficulties can give us clues about how to live a more holistically balanced life that honors our creativity amidst all of our other needs. Sarah explains how this perspective differs from two primary perspectives we typically see; read the whole article, it’s so good.
And also this simple but poignant thought from the intro to Head, Heart, Hands #1 by of Making Time:
“My favorite newsletters and blogs are those that remind me of all the surprising magic and creativity in the world, that brighten my day by making life feel expansive and new. So hopefully I can spread a little of that magic.”
From of Pencil Pals in What I Learned From Writing Here on Substack:
“My friend once told me that when she asked her toddler what she was doing, she replied ‘Ranging and taching’. She was arranging things she found kicking about the kitchen: spoons, pencils, pasta, carrier bags, etc. and attaching them to the garden gate using string and tape.
I loved that description. Ranging and taching. It tickled me, it lit up some excited fairy lights in my brain.
Ranging brings to mind exploring. When you get lost in creative play, that’s exactly what’s happening:
You are exploring by arranging and attaching ideas until you make something brand new.”
That sums up, really, a lot of what these weekly digests are all about.
And also, I am thinking over and over again about these words from
the Sunday journaling prompt from of THE EMPRESS:
“Narrative agency drives our cultural visibility as well as our sense of self-determination—how can we better own ours? How can we say, “That doesn’t have to be my story?””
From of Aoife Long's Newsletter in Meet Elizabeth Kneafsey, the Wild Wool Shepherdess
“You see, like many other indigenous tribes, this tribe is matrilineal, with a deep connection to the sacred feminine and grandmother moon.
So within, so without; just as the feminine within us all is deeply threatened by the society in which we live, the moon, of all places, is now under threat of colonisation.
Elizabeth, like many others, has dire warnings about the downstream consequences for life on earth, should the moon be disturbed.
‘The moon is basically the beating heart of Mother Earth; she is responsible for the tides and the movement of water across the planet. The cycle of the tides makes a sound like a drum or a beating heart. Any impact from man upon the moon will massively disrupt life on Earth.’
From of The Liminality Journal in In the Unknown of a New Year
“I have goals for how many books I want to read in the coming months, and I have goals for what foods I want to consume and in general what kind of consumer I want to be. More goals than I’ll be able to keep up with, but that’s okay. It’s always okay. So this tiny, wonderful kitchen with onion peel on the floor and dog bowls strewn about, where music and podcasts play and entertain, is also an incubator of sorts, where the world comes to meet me and I meet the world to figure out who I am.”
From of Loreteller's Compendium in The Hero’s Journey Calendar:
“Chart the course of a year like the adventure of a lifetime. Cross the threshold of Summer, take comfort in the relief of Autumn, prevail through the transformative power of Winter, and witness the triumphant return of Spring.
Beginning on the vernal equinox, A Hero’s Journey Calendar divides a year into thematic seasons. Based on real-world climate data, this is an experiment in storytelling, and an invitation to see the span of a year as an adventure in itself.
Divided into 9 seasons of equal length, each set of 40 days is a chapter in the cycle of a year. When Winter hits its hardest and the nights are longest, the 5 days of Grave are an island in time, bridging the gap from death to rebirth.”
From a beautiful piece by of Multilayered:
“We find ourselves tethered to stringent hours, grappling with more than one job, navigating the demands of bills and taxes, ensnared in a totalitarian machine that compels us to serve systems intent on eroding our spirits and creativity.
And because we live on Earth, your pain is my pain. Your joy is my joy. Together, we are Earth.
And because we are Earth, we still have the time to reimagine the world. We still have the time to dream of what's possible, to awaken our radical creativity, and to defy the systems that strip away our dreams.”
Her piece digs deep into the opposing forces that we exist within in this world, honors the tragedies many creatures on this planet are facing, and still shines a light of hope. It is a place I want to return to again and again.
And I want to add this from her same piece:
“Don't we all carry within us thousands of untold stories and one? Each of us a book, or two, or three. Some stories will be shared, while other parts of us may remain unseen, misunderstood, or unheard by others. The complexity of our narratives adds a unique layer to the human experience.”
of Writing Around The Edges shared beautifully in Not a word of the year
“Dreaming of how, even when it’s crammed only into the margins of our busy days, our writing can shape our lives and our lives can shape our writing. How the nooks and crannies of our twilight hours (I only recently discovered twilight can be considered dusk or dawn, isn’t that beautiful?) can be pockets of magic, portals of escape, empty vessels waiting to be filled by our wishes and spilled back into the world, should we choose.”
of Metanoia described Symmetrical Entropy: Order Within the Chaos
“What is this idea of symmetrical entropy I’ve come up with? It is disorder occurring in such a way that when given enough time and space, it begins to take shape. A slew of seemingly random acts happen collectively, forming something that has symmetry. Simply put, symmetrical entropy is a paradox. It is order birthed from disorder.
I can’t be certain, but often I suspect that symmetrical entropy is a real thing. Scientists talk about how all matter leans towards a state of entropy, of randomness. Yet, look at all the order, look at all that condensed, all that organized, and all that lead to this life we’re living. It is akin to masculine versus feminine, light versus dark. Push and pull is the rudimentary natural law at work here.”
RELATED: from of Ars Poetica in poetry pocket
“Claudius Rodolf built the word entropy from the Ancient Greek tropē, or: transformation. i am sure he smiled, too, when looking down at his parchment on some pale, moon-burnt evening, noticing the similarities between its echo and that of the english word energy.
we are creatures of energy and time perpetually baring witness to the gradual undoing of our being: with the thermochemical collapse of our lives, our bodies, and our world into disorder and uncertainty— and still we are so lovely and so foolish so as to ask that the whole dance might make an exception or two in the case of our singular lives— or that, at the very least, we may be in charge of it.”
From of Beth Kempton {Life. This is it, friends.} in Warning: May contain audacious dreams
“Write down your dreams, however audacious and impossible they might seem, but then hold them gently. Forget about the timeline. You aren’t in control of that. Close the notebook, get on with your life, choosing every day to do the things which are most likely to take you in the direction of those dreams, without being attached to the form of their manifestation, or the schedule for them coming true, and then see what happens. Take action, let go. Take action, let go. Dance with the universe and trust in the power of your notebook. Prepare to be amazed.”
Every writer writing here has dreams both small and big.
of the writing grove shared From marketing to cooking in Michelin-starred restaurants
which is an interview with writer/chef Wil Reidie:
LM: What’s a word or phrase in Finnish that you love but doesn’t translate to English, and vice versa?
Wil: Not a word or phrase so much, but a construct of Finnish grammar that I find particularly fascinating. It’s something called the partitive case that is found almost uniquely in the Finnic language family. The form designates a lot of different things. It can designate unknown amounts of things, for example. But the partitive also does something else, something more profound.
It suggests the incompleteness of an act, a process, an ongoing action. This is why to love someone is always to love the partitive of that person. If I love you in Finnish, I love sinua (the partitive form of you), not sinä or sinut or any of the other forms of you that exist in Finnish. With this being so, love is always an incomplete act in Finnish. A process. A resolution possible yet never found between two things. The one who loves and the loved. Sinua, the you my love can never fully reach.
From of Elin Lööw in My 2024 Intentions: A Year to Delight in My Processes
“Life isn’t always easy. I know there will be challenges this year. There will be darkness and hard days and difficult things to deal with. I am a silver linings kind of person, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t hard parts to my life.
That’s why I need the light. I feel it so strongly, that I need this delightful, light and soft energy around my creativity. I need it to balance out and conquer the darkness.
I need the art, the beauty, the silly, the frolic, the inspiration, the delight, the wonder, the good, the creativity. It’s my shining light. That’s what I’m turning towards in 2024.”
of The Lizzy Co Show shared The Proust Questionnaire, Part I
answering the first 11 questions with a haiku and a piece of music. It is brilliant. Don’t miss it. For example, in response to the question: “what is the trait you most deplore in others?”
“Do you need to speak?
Are your words helping the world?
I need quiet, please.”
And if you enjoy poetry, check out Pink Peppercorns by of The Bite Of The Sun
A small bit:
~Bite an olive fresh from tree
it’s a thousands miles away
from the brine variety~
From of The Life Boat in No more heroes:
“Drawing is movement held in stillness. Or maybe drawing reveals the stillness within movement. Water seems to be the perfect expression of this duality. Water is as old as the Earth, perhaps, some say, even older. And yet it’s in constant motion, responding to every shift of light and air, freshly new every moment, as liquid water, invisible vapour, solid ice and all manner of fogs, rains, floods, blizzards and bogs.”
From @Nat of Thought Jam in Diazepam state of mind:
“When I was younger, I imagined the inside of my head as a dusty old storeroom full of different-sized boxes.
The gloomy light shed enough brightness to make out the messy shelves that flanked the inside of my skull. Here, I’d file away memories in heavy boxes at the very top of the shelf, lock it and then swallow the key with a huge gulp.”
From of Splash in Negative Capability:
“John Keats studied to be a surgeon for many years before leaving it all behind to be a poet full-time. After spending years seeking to understand the body, cutting up corpses and seeing what we were made of, he still arrived at the conclusion that there was something beyond what he was capable of understanding through study. He may have understood blood vessels and organs, but such study never uncovered the soul or what lets a body be a being, what lets a body sing into the dimming of day into night.”
I love putting these digests together, celebrating everyone’s creativity, bringing together so much talent in one place, allowing us to think more deeply about each person’s writing, connecting you to one another here. But there won’t be any more of these digests until enough paid subscriptions can support them.
On a tight budget? I offer Pay What You Can - choose a sliding scale price here.
Fun fact: When I cut and paste this text into a Google Doc without the images, we get 46 pages of writing from January 2024. People are doing truly amazing things here on Substack.
I’ve been thinking about this and something hit me as I started reading this post. I don’t really want to put it in a comment so if/when you get a chance, maybe we can set up a time to talk? You can email me or whatever (pretty sure that info is on my profile)…just let me know if you do or I probably won’t see it.
I like what you're doing. I remember coming across your post where you were talking about tithing 10% to other creators, and I thought that was such a good idea and something I wanted to adopt myself.
The truth of the matter is that I'm simply not your target audience. Your ability to put ideas and writers together is beyond the scope of my intelligence. That aside, I have failed to make time to give your work the attention it deserves.
I'm sorry for that. An analysis this expansive is overwhelming to me.
That being said, I do hope that you find the subscribers you need, and that you learn and pivot from your experience. I know there is value in what you're doing. I wish you the best in your endeavors, Kathryn.