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Creative Expression

Creative Expression

 

Well, ain’t that like a hammer to the head? *LOL*

One of my biggest complaints lately – and by lately I mean for like the past year and a half – is that I seem to be creatively blocked – stumped, stuck, clogged.  The muse is constipated.  I used to write creatively every day – all day, in a myriad of genres.  And when I wasn’t writing? I’d draw (not that I’m good at it, but I enjoyed it).  I’d be creative in the kitchen, too – baking breads and desserts and all sorts of new treats.  But, ever since the divorce and my return to work, with the kids back in school, and dealing with life’s trials and tribulations, I haven’t been creative at all!  I did have a few insightful moments over the last year when thoughts of love inspired poetic expression, and did come up with at least two articles I can think of off the top of my head that I was pretty proud of, but by and large, over-all, I’ve been creatively closed.

This card says enough is enough… bust out the drano, grab hold of the plunger, employ the use of the roto-rooter, feed the muse her exlax and get on with the show.

It’s time to write again.  It’s time to draw again. It’s time to bake again. (uh… candle making, maybe? *grins*)

Here’s what the guidebook says:

Card Meaning: Your heart needs an outlet to express powerful emotions. By drawing this card, you are urged to engage in an artistic or creative endeavor.

Card Description: The fairies sing, dance, and make beautiful decorations as a way of expressing their heart’s joyful energy. You, too, are urged to create an outlet for creative expression. Anything artistic or creative will make your heart sing with joy, and will allow you to get in touch with your true inner feelings and divine guidance. Painting, flower arranging, photography, sand or snow sculpting, writing, or composing songs are wonderful examples.

Your creative expression doesn’t need to be skillful or perfect. In fact, the most therapeutic types of creative activities allow you to “paint outside the lines.” In other words, don’t worry whether your creative project is perfect or marketable. Let go of all goals and judgments, and instead, create with childlike exuberance. Enjoy!

Affirmation: I am a highly creative and artistic person. I now allow this side of myself to be expressed.

Source: Healing with the Fairies Oracle Cards by Doreen Virtue, Ph. D.

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Written by:
Wendi Friend
August 2005

A Writing Prompt

Writing letters is something some of us do, sometimes, as a way of making personal connections with friends and loved ones. More and more, however, with technology evolving and demands increasing, we’re much more likely to pop off a quick email or ring our loved ones up on the phone. In the past, though, letter writing was not only an art form, but was an intense recording of history in informal context. Letter writing was a form of communication, but was also a great pastime, as people weren’t afforded the luxuries of televisions, radios, computers, or video games. When one’s chores or daily tasks were done, there were a few choices for recreation: read, play music, or write.

One of the greatest examples with whom I personally connect is Abigail Adams, recognized for her artistic style, intelligence, and powerful presence in text. Mrs. Adams opened the majority of letters to her husband with the words, “My dearest friend.”

How nice would it feel to receive a letter today with that greeting in the header? Even in her first words of introduction, Abigail drew her reader into her grasp. Once captive to her attention, she’d then unleash an eloquent fury of opinions regarding everything from domestic issues to politics. Helping her case greatly was the fact that the recipient of her letters, for the most part, was her husband – John Adams, a powerful force in the political party establishing the United States of America. The letters written from Abigail Adams to her husband had a great part in shaping the US, particularly in regard to women and slaves.

Abigail Adams wasn’t the only person to write letters that would be remembered and/or cherished. In fact, there are volumes upon volumes of books created on Civil War letters, and other old letters of days past. For some reason, today’s people seem utterly fascinated and uplifted by the style, vocabulary, and living conditions of those who dared or cared to take the time to write down their thoughts and send them to a reader for consideration.

When is the last time you wrote a letter by hand to a good friend or family member? How did you begin that letter? If someone were to find that letter a hundred years from now, what do you think they’d learn about you and the time in which you lived?

When is the last time you received a hand written letter? How did you feel when you received it? Do you save your old letters?

Challenge yourself – as a writing prompt – to familiarize yourself with one or two treasures from yesteryear’s letters. They’re easy to find on the Internet or in libraries. Then, take an extra step and write a card or letter by hand to someone special to you. But don’t just write a letter; make it an art, make it a part of history.

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Written in 2001

 

“The magick moving through art is the ability to visualize without seeing, listen without hearing, speak without talking, and feel without touching.” ~Wendi Friend~

I over-slept today. I awoke frantic and frazzled due to bad dreams and thick stress. My eldest child, Atlas, was already gone off to school. The younger two decided that I should be left to sleep, so they played quietly together in the loft after having gotten dressed and made their beds. I awoke feeling the need to crawl inside myself; but in a healthy way. I felt like my heart was trying to tell me something. I wanted to sit still and listen. I wanted to silently remember my dreams and explore my thoughts.

Brewing my first pot of coffee for the day, I wrote down that I was hungry for creativity. Creativity, for me, is medicine – whether I’m creating with words on paper, crafting with supplies, or playing with notes of a new song. When my hands are busy, anticipation and expectation preoccupied with art, I can hear myself better. I can see the journey ahead a little more clearly. I can breathe a little more deeply. I was ready to heal. I was hungry for creativity.

Unfortunately, growth was not the only thing I was feeling this morning. The sign on my heart must have been flashing, “No Vacancy,” because all the space within it was consumed with a mixture of hope, need, want, and guilt. I know why I’m in this position. I know that stress backed me into a corner. I know that responsibility challenged time to a race and won. I found myself staying up late nights, waking early in the morning, and skipping meals in between because I couldn’t find the time to do all that needed done in the accomplishing of my goals. I felt guilty because the kids wanted to spend time with me. But, then, so did I.

That’s when I remembered this quote and wrote it down on paper again at that moment: The magick moving through art is the ability to visualize without seeing, listen without hearing, speak without talking and feel without touching. I wrote it down the first time in a journal/coloring book I’d received as a gift. I used a pink gel pen, then – and must have re-read the statement a hundred times while my left hand colored the picture to the left.

As I re-wrote the phrase this morning, seven year old Stinkerbelle knocked on my door, wanting to know if she and Rhythm could go play outside. Turning in my office chair, I smiled, saying, “Ya know what? No. Why don’t you go get your brother and the two of you can hang out in here with me for a while.” Stinkerbelle was thrilled to no end, as was her brother. I had no idea that hanging out in my office would be such a treat for them. When they were both in here, I explained that I’d like them to do something creative with this part of the morning, then they could go outside and play. Stinkerbelle immediately wanted to put to use the weaving project she got for her birthday. Rhythm had been wanting to play with my magnetic poetry book. He watched me do an exercise the other day, thought it was neat, and had been wanting to try one of his own. He picked out five words from my bag of magnetic poetry pieces while Stinkerbelle began stretching little loops of elastic to hook and weave on the plastic base. While the two of them nestled into their creative acts, I nestled into mine.

While Rhythm wrote his own thoughts of the day and Stinkerbelle wove a pot holder, I allowed the pen to move across paper with my own round of magnetic poetry. I withdrew five words from the plastic bag and wrote them down:

1. wind 2.away 3.sister 4.summer 5. morning

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

Morning flew quickly by today.
Summer heat taunts, though it’s only spring.
Winter has finally melted away,
making room for the great sun king.

Dreaming of a garden of flowers
I seek nature’s comforting glow.
Sister wind has exhausted her powers
when March currents did forcefully flow.

As I stand in these seasons changing,
I am one with light and sound.
My mind does it’s mystic rearranging
while my feet connect to the ground.

So I thank the entity Mother Earth
for destruction, obstacles and strife…
for death only makes room for birth
and a new opportunity for life.

Winds blow away negativity
cold freezes ugly thoughts
heat melts snow, warming creativity
and I find what I have sought….

my own inner garden of peace.

While we were working, I noticed how tranquil we all were. Rhythm and Stinkerbelle both worked with pleasant grins stretched across their faces, and I realized I was doing the same. We were able to be together, and yet apart, all at the same time. We were all doing the same thing, but differently. We were all being creative and exploring ourselves. This satisfied all of our needs. Their wanting to be with me didn’t mean that I couldn’t still do what I needed to do. I learned that they just like to be in my presence and sharing in my love of art.

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