In Which I Humbly Resolve...
On intention and follow-through
I started this last year with the intention of posting once a week. That didn’t last long, as evidenced by the fact that I don’t think I’ve posted anything since September. I could feel badly about this, but honestly I don’t. No one is paying to read this, and there’s no law that says I have to be consistent. But it’s good for me to take the time to write something that doesn’t hold the tension or pressure of writing a poem. So here I am, starting up again with the same intention as last year - one post a week - and I will do my best to follow through.
When I was a teen playing on the high school basketball team (until the rest of the team grew and I stayed five foot three and mostly useful as someone who would go in and foul people), my coach always encouraged us to “follow through” on our jump shots, to maintain the arc and momentum, to give ourselves a better chance at scoring. My father and mother were always insistent about following through on commitments as well, which is probably why I still find it so difficult to cancel plans, even if I’m ill.
So what does follow-through look like in a creative life? For my writing, I am still working at not self-rejecting, not holding back on submissions or opportunities. Once I write the work and feel it is ready to be public, I need to follow through by putting it out into the world if I want others to read it. (I have started the year well in that regard - five days into the new year, I have submitted to four journals, one book prize, and one residency. Gulp.) As a newbie visual artist, I have even more impostor syndrome, but 14 pieces of my work are currently adorning the walls of my beloved local library for the month of January, a step that I wouldn’t have taken a year ago.
I’m prioritizing my creative life in ways that are new to me. I am registered for an art workshop at The Glen this summer, which will ensure that I create new visual work, and I’ve been lucky enough to find a writing group full of talented people where I am accountable for creating something in the hour or so we spend together once a week.
That being said, some days I just want to read a book (currently alternating between Tom Lake by Ann Patchett, Scattershot, a memoir by Bernie Taupin, and new poetry from David Wojciechowski). Or sit snug on the couch with my husband and watch Succession. (We started late - currently on season two.) Or go to lunch with some friends and laugh. (We always laugh.) There is no timeline or lockstep process for being creative - yes, BIC time is important, but so is laughing, living, collecting and delighting in language. (Speaking of Succession, I’ve been putting amazing lines into my phone as I catch them - last night’s favorite exchange was “Any booze?” “No, just Emily Dickinson and low thread-count sheets.” It made me cackle. Not sure why, but it did.)
So, reader, if you’re with me, here’s to a new year of best intentions. And if you want to write, a prompt:
Find a bit of language that delights you - in a book you’re reading, a TV show, eavesdropping at the coffee shop…
Write that phrase or sentence down the page, one word per line. These words will become the initial words for lines of a poem. (Kind of a backward golden shovel.) See where it takes you - follow through.