First Class "The Artist's Way"

Last night I attended my first class of "The Artist's Way" based on the book by Julia Cameron, which is considered by some the seminal work on creative practice. 

The two hours went by very quickly and in no time at all people were sharing their creative histories with one another as well as what blocks us all creatively. Out of respect for the privacy of those in my class, I wont share any of their personal stories, but the creative history of the collection of people in that room was incredibly rich. I am looking forward to learning more from those who have been on this path for more years than I. 

Our facilitator, James Nave', opened the class up with a line from a poet with whom I was not at all familiar, but who is rich in history in this area, Charles Wright. As poetry is not my art form, I tend to forget how much I really enjoyed exploring prose while I was in school and have slacked off in my openness to reading it in more recent years.

The line was from a poem called Lonesome Pine Special. The title came from a Carter family song. As he spoke to us the words, you could feel the class begin to fill with hope that the next 12 weeks of the class and the experience of delving into the material of the book was going to be an amazing experience, one that some of us have waited our whole lives for, to really give permission to and nurture our creativity and our art practice. 

James talked about giving our creativity and our art "front burner" priority. I must admit, I tend to wear a badge of honor falsely for fitting creativity in between all of my other responsibilities and obligations. Shifting that perspective is going to be a challenge for me, as I tend to over commit my time and over extend myself, to what end, I'm not really sure. Maybe just to subconsciously avoid the real work I am supposed to do. All that to be discovered over time. I will leave you with the line from the poem:

        What is it inside the imagination that keeps surprising us
               At odd moments
                                      When something is given back
        We didn't know we had had
        In solitude, spontaneously, and with great joy?

                -Taken from the poem, Lonesome Pine Special by Charles Wright