Farmville Deprivation

So, for week 4 in The Artist's Way I was supposed to impose a reading ban on myself. I have many issues with this, of course. I never have time to read in the first place and really miss it.

I had several concerns with the reading ban as outlined in the book. First, Julia Cameron says that artists are addicted to words and reading too much keeps us from getting in touch with our inner self. Well, in the modern world we could say the same about television, the internet or any other electronic entertainment device.

( photo by Hervé Lejeune )

 I can see reading as a form of escapism because when I was young I read all of the time. Back then I would say that a reading ban might have done me some good but I am no longer 14 with my nose constantly stuck in a book. I am 41 and I hardly get to my books. I do have to read a lot at work -- students come in and hand me papers that I have to discuss with them right then and there. In The Artist's Way Julia Cameron cheekily says that artists are “creative” in getting out of what they don't want to do and so we can rely on those skills to get out of the reading we need to do for the week, even if it involves work. Um, no. I would get fired. Plus, I think that is an inappropriate attitude for people trying to improve themselves, as they must surely be when they are using The Artist's Way.

The reading ban is one of the things in the book that makes me think it is a one-size-fits-all program. I would rather think about what would work for me and then try that. Especially since in week 3 she asks us to examine our use of time and identify unnecessary time consuming habits. My most outstanding time-consuming unnecessary habit is Farmville.

Yes, you laugh.  I'm glad this blog is anonymous. On my regular Facebook page I set up filters so my non-Farmville playing friends won't know about my terrible habit of begging for logs, wrenches, animal feed, watering cans and horse tiaras. I also set up 2 other Facebook pages with the purpose of playing against myself and having more room to "farm". Every morning I get up, make coffee, and spend the first hour of the day with Farmville. When I am home doing other work on the computer, I keep going back and forth to Farmville. I can't stay away from it. Also, many of my Facebook friends gave it up but one friend is chronically ill and often housebound. She plays ALL DAY LONG and her enthusiasm often sweeps me up. It gives me a little bit of a way to connect with her, I guess, even if it is in a dysfunctional way.

A couple of weeks ago I decided it would be easiest to start the Farmville ban when I went to the beach because I would be without easy internet access for a few days. That is not so simple because when I went in August I was in the middle of one of the quests and went to the local free wifi spot to work on my farms. This time, even though I had my netbook, I only used it to work on exercises from The Artist's Way or other constructive writing things.

I felt victorious when I got home the last night of the trip and did not turn on my computer in the middle of the night, as I would have done in the past.

After that it seemed smoother sailing. It was a busy work week and I had no time for unnecessary things. I am proud of myself because I didn't even look at Farmville for 8 days. My higher power sent me some writing work and some other constructive things to do.

I did try Farmville over the days after that but it now seems very irritating, time consuming and useless. And, my housebound friend is so sick of the elaborate quests that she wants to give it up too. So, there. I can say I got infinitely more out of that than the reading deprivation.

The Artist's Way Check-in: Week 4

This week finds me a bit down in the dumps though I do have some small good things to report about my writing life. I'm trying to work on being open to receive good things as they come my way and even try to expect them. This is a hard thing for me, an adult child of an alcoholic because I've been conditioned to be afraid of any form of communication, especially mail, phone calls and even email. (In fact, I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't afraid of getting big envelopes in the mail. That is - psychologically big.) But, I'm trying.

(engraving by Pierre-Joseph Redouté)

Here we go with a ho-hum check-in.

Morning Pages: Here and there, but no real dedication to them.

Artist's Date: Again, I was going to say "no" but this afternoon I went to meet my boyfriend at the library and they had an exhibit of antique books with hand colored plates. They were beautiful and mostly relating to nature. So, I snuck in another 15 minute artist's date before going to meet him on another floor. 

Issues: Well, the above mentioned attitude issues, plus working on things when they show promise.  The editor that asked me for my best article promoted it on Facebook over the weekend! On Friday when I found out she  was doing it I spent some time tweaking and polishing my other articles on that site so at least I did something in response to the news, which is my goal after all -- I need to build up a little universal momentum in these things but the wheels are squeaky and rusty. I also started researching a new article for them and then got some more writing work from a previously dead source. I am grateful because I let two Al Anon friends talk me into a day trip to NY in October and this will pay for the bus fare -- if I get it done.

I didn't do any of the Time Travel excervcises in Chapter 4 of The Artist's Way. I just didn't care to do those. I didn't do the reading deprivation either, but I substituted something else, which became much more beneficial to me.  That, my darlings, will be a whole other post as I have quite a lot to say about it.

The Artist's Way Check - in: Week 3

This week was rather busy and then we went away for a long weekend to the beach. But, since I didn't have a chance to read I brought The Artist's Way with me and worked through some of the exercises. While I felt that the "rediscovering your childhood interests" applied to me that wasn't what I really wanted to work on this week. I did find other things to think about, though.

Morning Pages:  I did some writing most days but only on a few days did I do the whole 3 pages. Like I said, it was busy for me during the work week.

(photo by kslyesmith of stock.xchng)

Artist Date: Surprisingly, I did 2. On Wednesday after work I squeezed in a 15 minute visit to a museum within walking distance of my job. They had an exhibit on antique writing instruments that I wanted to catch before it closed over the weekend. Then, yesterday morning while I was still at the beach I borrowed a bike and rode around with my camera at about sunrise. That was great and something I'll likely repeat the next time I'm down there.

Issues: I got a lot out of the reading on synchronicity, which Julia Cameron defines as positive coincidences that help us progress with our art. I liked the part about how we don't act on synchronicity because we are afraid. Last week I started to be aware of synchronicity but over the weekend I examined why I am afraid of it and why I don't act on it. It seems like I do a lot of work and it goes nowhere. So, I'm going to change my attitude about it and when I see synchronicity I'm going to think of some action(s) to take, no matter how small. Like they say in Al Anon "Do the legwork and let go of the results."

For example, in last week's check-in I mentioned a new writing opportunity.  So I decided on 2 things I could do to help this along, which were listening in on a conference call for their writers (if I get home from work on time) and working on a new article so I will have more of a body of work in my preferred area. Well, I've been away and haven't had a chance to start a new article but I did get back to find an email from the editor asking me which of my articles she should look at, but only one. It looks like the email is a few days old so I knew I should get on the ball and reply.

Well, what did I do? I went downstairs and read the paper. I knew which was my favorite and best (though not necessarily the most popular) article and it would have taken me two minutes to reply, but no.... I thought I would do it when I got to work but I've got another full boat today and so finally I made myself come up here and do it. Well, I am The Resistant Artist.

I think my problem is that today I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. I had four blissful days without the internet and now I have an email inbox full of stuff from work, writing, and friends that need attention. Plus, stuff around the house and another busy week ahead. My cure for this is to find a quiet spot and make a to-do list. That way I can tackle one small thing at a time without over-thinking it.

Also, the day I wrote out my fears about synchronicity I had a chance to talk to my boyfriend about it and he also shared his concerns about his own work. So, it was good to open up and bond with him a bit.

Resistance and Art Gallery Openings

Today one of my graduate students invited me to a group art show of people from her program. It is only in the building next to mine and I'm going to try and make it. This officially represents a change in attitude. Usually I get invited to these things all the time and then don't bother to go, even if the show is literally in the same building that I work in. In the past I was too grumpy to stay at work even one minute past the end of the day but now I'm going to make more of an effort to look at the art here. Plus, it will help me bond better with my students and perhaps I can even call it an Artist's Date.

(Photo by Brendan Gogarty)

For some reason I've been prompted to think about why I hate art openings. I mean, I hate them with a passion and they give me a headache. I try to think of reasons why I hate them but I can't. I say that I hate the pretentious art scene (true) but I can't quite figure out the real reason. They are a real flash point of anger for me and I can't figure out why.

In writing this I tried to remember if I ever liked art openings. I can remember one rainy Saturday when I was in my late teens (18 or 19) and I was out exploring the city neighborhood we had recently moved in to. As I was walking home I saw a little gallery that had an opening and I went it. At that time I didn't have any art education and didn't even have a GED. The opening represented a world that I hoped to be in one day. I went in and looked at the art and had some free finger food. The artist was an older man who painted watercolors of cityscapes so he wasn't a pretentious art person. It was a positive and pleasant experience. I went home thrilled with my new experience.

In art school I went to my friends openings a lot for shows on campus. These were informal student affairs where someone baked cookies and the art was hung on the walls of one of the school hallways or tiny exhibition spaces. I also went to the more formal shows that the school put on featuring established artists in their bigger public exhibition spaces. Those were fun, too because I generally knew everyone and the art was usually interesting. Since I was in school I could get more out of what I saw and relate it to what I was learning. Plus, the Exhibitions Director was a notorious spendthrift and the food was very fancy and expensive -- he even ordered sushi on occasion!

I think at the end of Art School the art opening thing went sour. Four of us had a senior thesis show in one of the school's galleries, including my studiomate. By then I had been through lots of drama with her because she broke up with her longtime boyfriend and spent a lot of time drinking and getting into trouble. Her mom swept in and took control of the food and everything for the opening. The rest of us were upset by their attention grabbing and crazymaking.

Then, a couple of years after I graduated college my father had an important show but he didn't care about the opening and so I ended up doing the food. I hated his passive aggressive approach to it as he didn't ask me but let the work fall on me anyway. Then, I had to hang around at the opening but I couldn't be an artist, people only saw me as the daughter of the artist. (This is another issue I have -- people have openly implied that I'm not a "real" artist, I'm only copying after my dad. In my private writing I recognized the main perpetrator of this idea as someone who has serious issues of their own so perhaps I can let this go soon.)

Anyway, so I've avoided openings ever since. I want to go back and enjoy them as fun again and be an artist in my own right around other artists.

Fear of the Blank Page

This is the second week of school and I'm beginning to see a lot of distressed students struggling with their first writing assignments of the semester. I have to  keep quiet about what the teachers do though it isn't easy. This year a teacher asked his freshmen class to write a paper analyzing a Sartre piece for their first college paper ever.

So, it was interesting to talk to this one kid because he seemed so much like myself. He is a transfer student (like I was) majoring in the same thing I majored in at art school. He has a terrible fear of the blank page and that extends to both writing and drawing. We talked about the drawing issue in conjunction with the writing issue.

In light of this, I must confess that I hate to draw. I'm sure that this is also the fear of the blank page, which I assured the kid that many artists have (myself included). I mean, I really hate drawing. I freeze up and make little inept things that I hate. I can't even draw cartoons anymore, which was my passion for a long time.

(Photo by spekulator of Stock.xchng)

In college I always had this idea that I was drawing retarded or something. I hate painting, too, for reasons that I haven't explored yet. In community college I took a lot of drawing classes and I enjoyed them but in that school we didn't advance very fall. When I was putting together a portfolio to get into art school I took a  lot of the art school's adult education classes to build my portfolio. There, I took a great class where I felt I finally learned well. Actually, it was based on the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. (Many public libraries have it.) I really felt I had an excellent teacher and I bonded with her. She was a gifted person who spent a lot of time with us. I want to write about her at one point because I took a class with her again later, but that is for another entry.

I got into art school but always had the impression that it was by the skin of my teeth and that my drawing was not strong enough. The only drawing class I enjoyed in art school was nature drawing, probably because I love nature and I enjoy drawing organic subjects. They lend themselves well to the expressive line work I like.

I haven't really drawn much since I left school. A.R.T.S. Anonymous recommends doing your art at least 5 minutes a day. Well, with drawing I can't even do that. I don't even want to look at a sketchbook. Somehow, I feel like I can't draw anything significant and it is almost like I am back to the beginning again -- I think I've forgotten how to draw.

So, anyway, thinking about this kid. sometimes I go through phases where I think I hate my job and then soothe myself by realizing that God keeps me here for a reason. So, this semester I'm going to try to be a little more open and try to learn more from my students and the other people around me here.

A Simple Thing

Today when my boyfriend I went on a road trip we stopped by the National Shrine Grotto of Lourdes at Mount Saint Mary's. Places like this always make me feel...well...resistant but then I even up weepy in spite of myself. I grew up Catholic and I know I'm supposed to feel a certain way and if I feel anything that isn't cynical coming on I try to suppress it. You can say I was determined to not have a spiritual awakening.

Maybe I don't want to call it a spiritual awakening but I could call it a simple solution. We visited this place before and when I told my Al Anon sponsor about it she said, "That is where I gave (my alcoholic) to God."

Well, there were some prayer kneeling benches in front of this area with the Mary statue surrounded by water and my boyfriend, being the spiritual guy that he is, plunked down on the wet velvet to meditate on his own thoughts. As usual, I settled in next to him to patiently wait until he was done, not having any spiritual thoughts of my own. Or, rather, resisting them. 

I decided to be a good Al Anonic and say a quick prayer for my creative and money issues--after all I had been discussing them at length with my boyfriend on the trip up. I remembered what my sponsor said about her alcoholic and realized that it was that simple--I should just give these issues to God. A powerful, but simple realization and of course, I was so busy struggling that I never even bothered to think of it. And, despite my resistance I left wet kneed and weepy.