A Creative Endeavor

Let me ask you a question:

How creative is your life?

Very? Not very? Huh?


Now, let me ask you a slightly different question:

How creative are YOU in your life?

A little? A lot? What?


Okay, let me ask you a third question:

Would you like more, and to be more, of it? (Creative, that is.)

Yes? No? Maybe?


Now, let me tell you why I’m asking.

Before I started Grad school two years ago, I was dabbling in creative things. I was working on my mixed media art, I was taking online art workshops, I had started a blog about my poetry/fiction writing, and I was frequenting dozens of creative blogs for inspiration and community.

But, then, I started school.

And with that, everything else “superfluous” took a back seat (or in some cases, was dropped off at my parent’s house, never to be seen again.)

That’s how it remained from August of 2009 through June of 2011 when I graduated. (Hooray!)

But instead of falling back into my creative endeavors, I did the opposite.

Now, yes, a break was needed. So, I told myself that it was perfectly fine to take a few weeks to decompress from the stress of it all. (And by decompress, I mean sit around doing nothing but watching TV in my pajamas. (And I may or may not have put on said pajamas as soon as I got home from work. (What?)))

After about a month, though, I realized that while I felt much more relaxed due to my nightly three-hour pajama-wearing TV time, I was slowly turning into a lifeless person with nothing to talk about but what so-in-so did on such-and-such TV show*. I had nothing to say about my actual life. (Except that work was fine, but busy.)

With that startling (and depressing) realization, I’ve been on a search for other things to occupy my time, and actually help me to improve my skills and interests as a person.

Now, don’t get me wrong, TV has taught me a few things that have added to my life, but by its nature, TV is passive. I observe. I don’t engage. But what I realized I was longing for was improvement by doing, by taking action, by living!

After this epiphany, I started setting parameters (because that’s how I am). I wanted to do something that wasn’t too hard, wasn’t too time-consuming (I still have shows to keep up with, after all), and didn’t cost a lot of money.

But, I wanted whatever it was to push me out of my comfort zone, challenge me creatively, and increase my daily joy.

All of this has been marinating in my head for the past month, and it wasn’t until last Monday night as I was contemplating my situation (which might have been while wearing my pajamas and during the commercial break of a well-known gossip show), I looked over to my bookcase and something caught my eye.


Eureka!



TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW BECAUSE THIS POST IS ALREADY WAY TOO LONG…





*Part of my TV viewing was shows on the Documentary Channel. Do you have this? It’s fabulous! Next time you see me, ask me about some of the documentaries I’ve watched. I will regale you with stories about fascinating people: like people who stare at the sun for energy, or the boy who looked for his invisible girlfriend, or the Mountain Talk folk, or what luminaries of our time have to say about forgiveness, or… **

**On second thought, you may not want to ask me. I’ve counted up and in the last three months I’ve watched 27 documentaries. It might be best to keep that door shut.

Is that a Poem in your Pocket, or a grocery list?

Yep, today is National Poem in your Pocket day!!!!

This means that you, yes YOU, need to share a poem with your nearest and/or dearest.

Last year, when I passed out poems to all of my co-workers, it was a great success that produced poetry discussion. Yay!

This year, I’m handing out one of my favorite poems by Dylan Thomas, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.” It’s a classic, and I love the power of the words. (You can hear him read it here.)

If you need some suggestions, visit this link. Poets.org has done all the work for you!

And, if you don’t have the desire to pass poetry on to others, that’s okay.

Just share it with yourself!

Not Your Average Birthday Gang…

So, last Saturday my super terrific friends threw me a birthday party--The Liz Jubilee! (Thanks Rachel and Katie!!)

And it was not your run-of-the-mill party with balloons and cake.

Nope! It was a Beatnik Poetry Slam party!!

That’s right. All the attendees had to present an original poem, read in front of the whole group with a spotlight in their face and bongos punctuating their words. (And in my case, beret on my head.)

Needless to say, it was awesome!!!! (I’d post some pictures, but I, of course, didn’t have my camera. (So, Rachel and Laura, when you get a chance, could you send me some?))

I laughed. I cried. I felt loved and appreciated—exactly what you want on your birthday, right?

And to join in the fun, I wrote a poem to share with the group. The subject of my poem was all the fantastic tidbits of knowledge I’ve collected over these years. You know, the stuff that’s made me really, really smart, and all.

I was asked to post it, so here it is: (Oh, and all the bolded words were sung. Yes, sung. So, sing along—I know you know the tune…)

The Brainless Barrage*
By Liz Wolfe, 2009

I need
some punky power
this hour.
This 3 hour tour with my skipper
and Flipper has morphed
into a
Schlemiel, Schlimazel and
I’m
puzzled.
How many Happy Days, ayyyyyy
have slipped away
as I have filled my mind
with what, what I
could find?
So, let me
rewind, Rerun,
And say, Here’s the story of
a lovely lady,
sailing on the Love Boat
waiting for the Mork
to her Mindy.
Let me just wiggle my nose
and magically expose
my own A-team
for hire, and it’s dire.
Cause I care about
who Joanie loves,
And those on 21 Jump Street.
So, gimme a break,
I’ve learned if you take the good
and take the bad,
what you have
is a mixed bag
where everybody knows your
name, and so
I ask where’s my invisible
plane?
And are you sure a paper
clip, rubber band, and a match
can get us out of here?
Here where eight is enough
and de plane, de plane
can take us out of the land
of the lost,
where we’re
saved by the bell, but
barely.
You say
“Bad news, bears!
It’s a small wonder
you’ve got anything else in
that head of yours.”
And I say what chu talkin’
about, Willis?
Who’s the Boss?
Me!
Let me have my
wonder years,
and dance of joy,
joy that helped me
through my
growing pains of
a full house.
Believe it or not,
I’m walkin’ on air
was not
my theme song
of youth.
Truth?
More like
I prayed for my
highway to heaven
and took it one day
at a time.
So I don’t need
you to worry for
me cause I’m all right.
And like Charles, I’m
in charge, and
in a half hour, all wrongs
will be righted.
You say, “Pleeease,
turn off the TV, and be.”
To that,
I say
kiss my grits!
It’s too late…


*I referenced 36 different TV shows in my poem. Can you find them all?

See! I’m not a liar!!!

So, for months and months and months, now, I’ve been saying that I entered a poetry contest (by accident, actually) and my poem received an honorable mention (which was a complete surprise—since, again, I didn’t know I had entered the contest).

And all of you dear friends were like “That’s great Liz!” “Way to go!” “You’re the best.”*

And then months passed, and nothing. No proof that what I said was true.

I stopped bringing it up because I was afraid you’d all start thinking I was telling a tall tale. You know, that I had somehow confused having a poem published in a literary journal with reading a poem in a literary journal by someone named Liz.

But, yesterday when I got home from a long day at work, there was a surprise waiting for me in the mail…The Summer 2008 edition of Segullah and when I opened up the pages, there I was!!!!

A full page with my poem on it!!!

Yay!!!!

You can see the cover here. (And you’ll notice on the lower right of the webpage, under the Poetry section, you’ll see my name.”

I’m thinking of pinning the journal to my shirt and wearing it around town.

So, if you want to read it, just ask. I’ll have it on me**…







*These aren’t direct quotes. But, I’m assuming they’re close to what you said… =)

**And if any of you subscribe, not only will you get wonderful essays and poems by and about Mormon women, but you’ll also get my autograph. You know, for when I become a world famous poet.***

***Because when I become a world famous poet, I’m planning on moving to a small cottage in Ireland, where I’ll be a recluse. And then, it will totally be hard to get my signature, because if you stop by, I’ll probably throw stones and yell at you in Gaelic to get off my property.****

****Of course, I might let you in and give you an autograph if you’re there to film a documentary on my life, à la Grey Gardens. Because I’m sure, by then, I’ll be REALLY quirky. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be living with raccoons, and have a hot plate by my bed, but it’s very likely that I’ll have some kind of hygienic issue and questionable pet. Like my hair will be puffed out to the size of a small moon and I’ll have a pet jaguar.*****


***** I’d love to have a jaguar…I’d name him Kirk.

A Digression (Or really, look over there...)

I posted on my almost-a-complete-waste-of-time poetry blog.

Give it a look see, if you want.

Oh, and I've posted on my book blog, too. (In case you can't get enough of me...)

Hey, look over there!

So, check out my poetry blog to read about my P.I.Y.P. day results!

I was surprised by the whole thing.

And so were my co-workers.

No one expects you to say "Good morning! Here's a poem for you."

I Can't Multi-task...

So, this week, I'm going to be posting on my other blog.

If you're interested in poetry, check it out.

If not, come back next week, and I'll have something new.

Pinky Promise!!

Announcement!

So, do you remember my whole “YEAR OF LIVING THE IDEAL LIFE AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT!”™ plan for 2008?(If you need a reminder, you can read the posts on it here and here.)

Well, it’s hard to do! I never imagined how hard.

It’s SO much easier to come home after a long, exhausting day and do nothing but watch TV. It really takes a lot out of a person (especially one with no willpower to speak of) to get of her duff and do something of value.

That’s what I’ve been trying to do these past three weeks: fill my time with value. (So far, I’ve been mildly successful.)

To do this, I’ve had to put myself on a schedule. Yes, I’ve had to schedule my creativity!

I know it sounds weird, but if I don’t have an organized plan (with timelines, goal dates, and stickers—for the good days) I can easily tell myself to put it off for tomorrow (Too bad, future Liz!). After all, who cares? It’s not like anyone’s monitoring me!

See, I’m inherently lazy. Really, I am. And I also battle the big beast “FEAR OF FAILURE!” Man, what a horrible animal that is!

But, lest you think that I’ve taken no action on my New Year plan. I’ll tell you what I’ve done already.

Out of the 6 goals I set for myself, I’ve already begun three! That’s pretty good, right?

1) I’ve created the charts and deadlines, 2) I’ve begun revising poems, and 3) I’ve spoken with an old creative writing professor of mine and she’s asked me to do weekly posts on the University’s literary journal blog that I’m actually going to get paid for (well, eventually)!

And, drum roll, please…I’ve started a new blog* totally dedicated to this venture (which, I guess, makes it four goals I’ve already accomplished).

This blog is going to only contain things pertaining to my creative adventures—mostly my writing, but also other things that spark the artistic mind.

So, with all that said, I have a question for you: What are you doing to make this the “YEAR OF LIVING THE IDEAL LIFE AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT!”™? Really, what are you doing? Look inside your heart of hearts and see what’s there.

This is our only life! The only one we’ve got!

Do you want to look back on it and think “Man, I wasted a lot of time on those stupid TV shows (or whatever else is your time vice)!”? Or, do you want to say “I filled every second of my life with value!”? (Don’t get me wrong, I know we need vegging/winding-down time, but it shouldn’t absorb all our free time, right?)

I don’t know about you, but I want to say the latter. And, like I said at the beginning of this post, it’s HARD. It really is! But, I’m here to help you, and you’re here to help me.

Together, we can live our lives to the fullest!

*You can access my new blog here. And it’s also linked in my right-hand side stuff.

Friday Fluff

Well, I’ve been meaning to post all week. You know how it is…

I’ve even started a number of posts about*:

1. The rest of Sister Beck’s speech and the dumb questions that followed
2. Witnessing the spirit work in my young women
3. Mitt Romney and how he’s affected my office life
4. My decision on Grad. School
5. Why I hate bean sprouts

But, by the time I sit down to type, I get about three sentences in and say, “Ah, who cares.” And I end up staring out my window in a stupor.

So, with that, here's something that caught my attention.

Don’t you wish things were this simple? You need God (or gods, as the case may be) to give you some advice or witness testimony on your life, so you just summons him/them!


Also, I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but I’m participating in a “write a poem a day” thing during the month of December. Each day you're given a specific prompt. I’d link to it, but, I’ve posted some REALLY crappy poems over there, and I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my nearest and dearest. (I know, like I already haven't. But still, these are really bad.)

Anyway, one of the prompts was one of my favorite Billy Collin’s poems. So, I’d thought I’d post the link to it here. This perfectly captures a big problem for me and my mind.



Until next time…




*I’m still working on these, (well, not the bean sprouts one) so stay tuned. Eventually I’ll get around to posting them.

A Secret

So, here’s something I do that no one knows about.

It’s not that big of a deal, really.

But, it’s the ritual I do to invoke the muse, as they say.

I put on this CD and let the words from one of our greatest poets flow over me. Sometimes I listen to it for an entire day. I have most of the sonnets memorized by now. And I love to repeat them in my best British accent (sometimes I even use gestures for added emphasis (don’t laugh)).

Oh, and there’s one sonnet (Sonnet 29) put to music by Rufus Wainwright that I listen to about 67 times in a row like I’m some kind of idiot savant (although I don’t think they’re called idiot savants anymore, but I can’t remember the new PC term, so I’m just going with that) and it always brings me to tears.

You can listen to it here. (Just click on the top of the article where it says “audio clip.”)

Maybe it will inspire you to pick up a pen and write what lies within…

A Loss of Biblical Allusions

When I was in a writing class about a year ago, I began a series of poems speaking from the perspective of Eve. My goal was to eventually complete an entire chapbook (which is what you call a book of poems—for those who don’t know) dealing solely with this concept, called “Eve” surprisingly enough.

In this class, we had to submit our work for “peer” review, and when I got the “reviews” back, I was shocked to realize that the kids, I mean, young adults, had no idea a) what the title meant or where to even look to see what the title meant, b) who was speaking, and c) what the poems were talking about.

I couldn’t believe it! They had no knowledge of Biblical stories!

What a loss.

How were these kids ever going to understand Pound, or Elliot, or Frost, or Hopkins, or hundreds of other poets and writers who over the last 500 years or more have infused Biblical allusions into their work? How would they understand the layers of Gawain and the Green Knight or The Canterbury Tales?

Depths of meaning will be eradicated simply because future generations will not understand what the authors were referencing!

It really made me so sad.

I ended up having to add two scriptures to the first four poems, just to give them the context.

Poor clueless kids!

And since I’m lamenting about all this, I thought I would post the poems for you (with the scriptures) so you can see what I’m talking about.


Mammon*

“And Adam called his wife’s name Eve; because
she was the mother of all living.” (Gen. 3:20)


I.

Laurel tossed, we leave ourselves
lost as we are
the wanton world our choice.

We ate to know,
we ache now to be
known as we are.

Moving, a glance over our
slumped shoulders,
vows broken by our voice,
we trail our glory
through the earth we tread.

Our feet leaving a
path we can never retrace.

II.

We have heaven on our feet,
clinging to the remains of our
garden selves. With a glance,
I know his thoughts. Still, his
choice was his. But blame is
easier than belief. Silently, we
tread. I look forward, wishing
my leaves were living. Wanting
to be known as I am, now.

III.

I remember
the flora,
and the sweet
smell of laurel,
and the feeling of
ease and of eternity.

I remember
the fruit,
and one forbidden
as it was.

I remember
what I wanted:
to know.
I wasn’t beguiled,
I was born.

And I tread,
knowing the truth
of myself.

IV.

The look is still in his eye, but
belief is there as well. Time has
made the sweat of his brow make
him. Our children wonder what
it was that made us choose. The
serpent underfoot is under felt.
And still, we tread, and trail our
glory through the earth, our feet
leaving a path traced by our world.

* “No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.” (Matt. 6:24)

Scripture Poetry

So, at Segullah magazine, I read a guest post that I really enjoyed.

You can read it here.

The author writes about taking poetic license with the scriptures and creating poetry. And if you know me, this is right up my alley in every conceivable way.

I was so inspired that I started going through some of my favorite scriptures and turning them into poems. It's pretty simple to do.

And I think you should all give it a try! (You don't have to worry about words, you just use the scriptures and play with the format a bit.)

My example is rather long (which is why I didn't post it in the comments at Segullah), but it is one of my favorite chapters.

Read it if you want, but really, this post is just about getting you guys to try it out.

It really helps in seeing the beauty and sacredness of the word of God.

John 6

Lord, evermore give us this bread.

I am the bread of life.

He that cometh
to me
shall never hunger.

He that believeth
in me
shall never thirst.

Him that cometh
to me
I will in no wise cast out.

I came down from heaven, not to do mine own will.
This is the Father’s will which hath sent me.

Everyone which seeth the Son
and believeth
on him
may have everlasting life.

The Jews then murmured at him.

Verily, verily, believeth on me.

I am that bread of life.

I am the living bread.

And the bread that
I will give is
my flesh
which I will give
for the life of the world.

He that eateth my flesh
and drinketh my blood,
dwelleth in me,
and I in him.

Many of his disciples said, This is a hard saying:
Who can hear it?

Doth this offend you?

It is the sprit that quickeneth;
the flesh profiteth nothing.

The words that I speak unto you,
they are spirit,
they are life.

From that time many of his

disciples

went back and walked
no more with him.

Will ye also go away?