Methods & Muses Vol. 30

Tip the Light, Change the Mundane

I love a good, artist-with-artist Q&A, a salon where creative souls talk and share ideas.

Recently, at the fabulous Watershed Reading Series at Art Lit Lab, a poet in the audience asked a poet on stage, How do you find balance?

Ah, balance - the golden ratio, buzzy-buzz word often paired with work and life.

Maybe the poet was really asking, How can I make more time for my art?

Unless an artist is lucky enough to have their creativity support them financially, or they’ve earned their art time and chosen to use it in retirement, many of us have to (or have had to) work at jobs that take time away from making. Creative time is also cut with the necessary mundane –  grocery shopping, cleaning – as well as the social – caring for loved ones, supporting our communities.

So, given the ‘time pie,’ can we really slice more for our art?

I think we can. I say we tip the light, or change the mundane, so that non-art time becomes creative. Here are a few ideas, with hopefully entertaining anecdotes:

1.     Make a health-related visit about art. I ask every health care advisor what they practice. Back in NY, I learned that one of my Physical Therapists painted landscapes and the other enjoyed ballroom dancing. My Physician makes jewelry, and soon I’ll learn what my new Dermatologist and Optometrist practice. Please note, I’ve written what, not if, they practice. Yes, I firmly believe that art is inside all of us, and by us, I don’t mean just the humans.

2.     See, hear, smell, taste and feel art in all living things – birds’ nests, wolf howl, spider webs, wind sculpting tree branches, flowers and weeds, how cats and dogs dance with their tails and ears, how rivers meander over stones, how stones are sculptures, lakes and sunlight collaborate to make patterns. The possibilities are endless, and you will have to slow down to notice, but trust me, it’ll feel good.

3.     When you speak with someone on the phone, like a person recording your information for an appointment, make them laugh and ask them about art. Often people who work on the phone have a script, so a chuckle and an art-tangent nudges them to go off-script, improvise for a moment, and then, the conversation-performance becomes collaborative. 

4.     See your clothes and accessories as art, and if it feels right, let other humans know you see their costumes, their artistic choices too. There’s a young woman who works at the bakery we love, and she wears a necklace with a Scrabble letter. In chatting with her about her necklace, she shared that the letter was her partner’s initial, and that they were a musician. We then shared that we were musicians, and the moment was even sweeter.  

5.     Volunteer to DJ your next work meeting. Benjamin does this for his meetings, and he says that there’s nothing like seeing your colleagues smile and bob their heads as they enter the Zoom room. Music sets the tone, lightens the mood, and it’s hard to take ourselves too seriously if we’re having a shared, rhythmic moment.

6.     Contact artists outside your media. In the last month, I have reached out to two women who specialize in teddy bear repair and a DJ who collects vintage vinyl polka records. I’m also trying to meet with a visual artist who makes jewelry from found animal bones and sheds of birch bark. Why? Well,  if I’m doing research for a poem, I could look online, but I could also interview an expert, stretch my brain and maybe make a new friend.

7.     When you’re grocery shopping, slip postcards with art or poetry on them between the cereal boxes, or if you’re in a theater, tuck the cards between the seats. Ok, this one is specific. I include it with a nod of gratitude to a lovely group of poets I loved while I lived in Tampa. Yes, we actually did this. Poets are mischievous and fun.

8.     This should be a no-brainer, but if you go out to eat, or if you frequent a café or pub, compliment the cook, barista or bartender for their specific artistry.

9.     Listen to music as you do any kind of housework and incorporate dance steps if you can. When I was little, my Mom and I dusted or did the dishes as the vinyl spun 50’s dance music. Now, I clean to 80’s dance music, and she’s found a station on her computer that plays waltzes and polkas, like her parents used to play. Joy!

10.  Read a poem on your lunch break. Sure, you could look at your phone, scroll the tweets and grams, you could listen to a Podcast, but you could also read. A poem. Yes, this is a shameless plug for my primary art. Please. Read. Poetry.

Thank you.

However your life is shaped, try not to allow the conventional definitions of time to be a barrier to your art. Oh! And…

11.  If you have the means, you can also structure a vacation around art. My friend Dara and I did this. We called it an Artcation, and we spent time writing with one another and reading our work together. She also took me to a groovy shop that sold vintage type writers. Shoppers were invited to type a line or two into an enormous, collective poem. This was heaven, and I’ll always be grateful to Dara for our time. 

I’ll end on that note of thanks, and I thank all of you for reading M&M.

Have a great month!