discovery

Poupě bílé růže - Josef Sudek

After a very, very slow creative period, I'm making hay while the sun shines~~~~~

I've had the goal to give a workshop on creative nonfiction for a while. Exciting but nervous!

I'm always happy to share how I got to where I am today. But what else would be helpful? To help design a workshop, I invited questions via Instagram and posted general tips. It was a good reminder that I know stuff. Thank you to everyone who sent a question!

I hope to expand on the tips through this blog, a newsletter (MAYBE?), or a craft essay.

Responding to the questions made me reflect on my process, which is chaotic, intuitive and NOT DISCIPLINED. Writing requires patience, being gentle on yourself and putting in the work—a mix of inspiration (fun! exciting!) and removing blocks, conscious and unconscious.

Things that have helped me recently:

• Writing sessions and chats with Natasha Hertanto
• Chats with K (AKA husband) about creativity, art and light
• "Dappling Your Own Lighting Design" workshop with Benedict Nguyen
• "The Art of the Zuihitsu" lecture with Eugenia Leigh

I realised that I was scared of potentially hurting K through my writing, so it was good that we could talk about this. I'm so grateful for his support and reassurance.

I'm grateful to Nat for her generosity in hosting writing sessions and in our conversations. 

I'm grateful to Benedict her warmth, effervescence and excellent, sharp advice <3 It has been ILLUMINATING to think about the light we shine on who/what, types of light, when and where we shine this light, and importantly, the reasons for these choices.

I'm grateful to Eugenia for introducing me to zuihitsu, a Japanese genre that is neither prose nor poem. Playful. Defiant. Spontaneous yet intentional. 'Curated randomness'.

SO MANY conversations, ideas, reflections and lessons go into making art.....

I've been thinking also about "the essay we start with" and "the essay we end with". We live with/alongside an essay. As it develops, we're in a relationship with it. When we begin, we can't foretell how it might end. We have to live an essay through to its conclusion.

For now, I'll leave you with a quote from Czech photographer Josef Sudek:

Discovery—that's important. First comes the discovery. Then follows the work. And then sometimes something from it remains.