Greetings, dear reader,
The great Faith Ringgold died on Saturday. If you’re not familiar with her work, take a look. Sometime in the 1990s, I took my first trip with the specific purpose of going to an art exhibit–my mission: to see Faith Ringgold’s work. Going from NY to DC while broke was not easy, but, as a new quilt maker, I valued seeing art that included quilting and was unapologetic about it. Earlier this year, I took a shorter journey to see her work at the Worcester Art Museum. Once again, I felt awe in front of her art.
I’m fortunate to live a (longish) train ride from NYC. While I don’t make it in to see every art exhibit that intrigues me, if I feel a deep connection to an artist, it’s simple enough to find the time, make the schlep, and fill my well. I’m curious how you fill your creative well?
As spring ephemerals peek through the winter cover, as the rhubarb leaves grow big, as the peonies rise up tall and red, I feel the emptiness of my creative well. Maybe I’m empty from the winter. Maybe from the pain I’ve had for the last month. Maybe I didn’t slow down enough this winter and let the scraps of my creative endeavors compost.
An empty well doesn’t, for the record, mean that I don’t partake in my creative practices. For me, it feels like a holding pattern. Like what I’m doing is less exciting than it once was.
Or, in the case of my #100dayproject, less sustainable than I’d hoped. So, dear reader, I confess to you: I’ve quit my #100dayproject.
Well, quit’s a strong word. I’ve changed it. I’m still committed to creating 100 issues of Dear Ms. Tomato’s Unsolicited Advice zines. No longer is it a daily project, though. I’ve been unhappy with the quality of what I’m creating–cramming in the creation of a full zine between a paper cut postcard and making dinner or writing has meant less collage, less drawing, less fun than what I crave from this project. So I will slow the pace, increase the fun, and progress with this volume. As I finish an issue, I’ll post it here, so be sure to follow DMT!
Do you need permission to let something go or to create in a more sustainable way? Consider this your permission.
Upcoming Creative Patina Workshops and a Date Change
Our April 15th “Reveling in Uncertainty: Embodying Negative Capability” workshop has been postponed, which means you can still register. Here’s the updated information:
April 22, 2024, 7:00-8:30 p.m. EST “Reveling in Uncertainty: Embodying Negative Capability” Investment: $30.
As experienced teachers of writing and creativity, we understand the impact that cultivating one's creative capacities can have on personal and professional fulfillment. Negative Capability, a term coined by the poet John Keats, refers to the ability to embrace uncertainty, doubt, and ambiguity without succumbing to the pressure of searching for immediate resolutions. It's about dwelling in the "mysteries, uncertainties, and doubts" and finding inspiration within the unknown.
A complex, slippery concept, negative capability opens up creative thinking in a productive way for writers of all levels, whether by helping writers to trust the mysterious in your writing, to find surprising connections, or to live comfortably in the “gray” areas of life.
We’ll provide writing prompts designed to enable you to explore negative capability in your own work and lives, exercises to help cultivate it, and the opportunity to write an early draft of a poem or other writing that embodies the concept. **Registration will close on Sunday, April 21**
April 29, 2024, 7:00-9:00 EST “Fragments and Fascicles: Stitching Short Forms Together” Investment: $70 includes kit fee.
In her late 20s and early 30s, Emily Dickinson gathered more than 800 of her poems into 40 fascicles, sewing stationary together with string. While some critics claim their ordering is random, others, like Dorothy Huff Oberhaus, argue that they form one major work. While we may not definitively understand Dickinson’s purpose, we can learn from the fascicles how to gather shorter poems together to create greater meaning by bringing them together.
This hands-on workshop will invite participants to generate a series of short poems–some may make use of forms such as the cinquin, haiku, or haibun–or image fragments. Following the generative part of the workshop, you’ll learn simple ways to sew their poems together, imitating the fascicles created by Emily Dickinson. You’ll have the opportunity to consider the order of the poems and how they appear on the page.
To ensure you receive your kit on time, registration will close on Monday, April 22.
To sign up, visit our workshop site.
Link List:
Books I’m reading:
The Creative Act by Rick Rubin. This is my before-bed book. Still dipping into it each night.
Stitching Freedom: Incarceration and Embroidery by Isabella Rosner. While I wish it included photos rather than illustrations of the pieces described, this small book (it claims to be a zine, which I’ll respect, but I think I’d call it a chapbook) provides a compelling overview of embroidery done by incarcerated people over the centuries.
Things I’m Loving
I’m hooked on Crude cleansing oil. It doesn’t upset my sensitive skin, and the light scent doesn’t trigger my allergies. Never have I looked forward to washing my face the way I do now. True story.
Never a person to maintain a salon mani/pedi habit, I recently picked up a Bare Hands dry gloss manicure system and have started to use the natural pedicure system, too. If you use your hands a lot, don’t want to take time to go to a salon, and just aren’t into nail polish…but still want well groomed hands and feet, this might be the ticket.
Wondering what to do with your eclipse glasses? Donate them! Here’s how.
Creative Prompt: What do you need permission for? Write / draw/ collage yourself a permission slip and see how it changes your point of view.
Thanks, as always, for reading this.
xx,
Beverly
A permission slip! I love that. Will put this on my project list (which now strikes me as funny when I see it typed out like that... I'll give myself permission....later!). :-)
Love also, what you say about how your well feels empty but you still practice, still create. The fun can sometimes come back, but I know when it doesn't, it's a message: trust the feeling, move forward.
Love your newsletter!
I quit my daily project February 29th when I was assigned a ridiculous deadline at work and when the deadline passed at the end of March I didn’t go back to it. Work has a way of sucking me dry even when it’s going well that shifting gears can be tough. So I get it.