Stimulation, Expression

Continuing to examine the idea of inspiration and where it comes from, this week it seems there are answers all around. Every kind of desert wildflower is blossoming, from asters to desert zinnias. Perhaps the most beautiful of all are cactus flowers. It seems such a mystery to me that the most prickly and dangerous of desert plants offers the most gorgeous flowers.

"Cholla Blossoms"

Cactus flowers stimulate several senses at once:  Sight, smell, touch (silky petals contrasted with spines), even sound (buzzing of bees).

So here's a piece of the puzzle:  inspiration equals stimulation. Creativity equals expression. First we have to sense, then we can express what was sensed.

Sensory Memory

Continuing to think about the kind of subjects that inspire me, and reminded of this painting by Julie Ford Oliver's post last week, featuring a painting of lilacs in front of a window, I was reminded of this old watercolor of mine.

It's probably 14 or 15 years old, but I can yet recall the excitement I felt when my husband and I drove past the abandoned house in Pinos Altos, the lilac bush burdened and drooping with heavy blooms. The lilac smell was overpowering, whisking me back to childhood, when my sister and I carried armloads of lilacs to our teachers in the spring.

This made me aware of another piece of the inspiration/creativity puzzle:  sensory memory. It's all stored in the noodle somewhere. A smell can grab you and shake you and transport you across years in a nanosecond. Likewise, for me, colors and sounds. If you know how an old song can make you smile or cry, a whiff of perfume remind you of someone long lost, you know what I mean.

Artists keep these sensory memories cooking, drawing on them for an emotional kick-start to inspiration. It doesn't matter whether the memories are happy or sad, it's the chemistry that gets me moving to create. That's probably the reason I often question whether resolving old griefs would affect my ability to be creative. This is an issue that has troubled many creative people through the centuries. But for now, I know I can depend on the old sensory memories to provide inspiration for a lot of new creations.

Synergy in the Universe

You know how when you start thinking about a subject, you start seeing it everywhere? Some people say it's the universe, feeding you what you asked for. I think I believe it's more a matter of noticing things that were already there, but you have become sensitized to them.

Yesterday I watched a TED segment featuring Amy Tan, speaking about...guess what...creativity.  Because she is one of my favorite contemporary writers, I was really curious to hear what she would have to say about creativity.  Not so surprisingly, she didn't have a simple explanation of it. She offered some ideas:

• Looking for connections and explanations
• Questioning
• Getting help from the universe

When I thought about her explanations and compared them to my own ideas, I felt the resonance. The first two ideas seem to be about examination and introspection. The third seems to be a possible source of answers to the examination and instrospection. Of course, to receive any help from the universe, the questioner has to be open to receive help...


Two Souls, One Heart

When I thought about all this a bit longer, I realized that I'm happiest with my work when I can get into a place where it just flows. Maybe I am able to let the colors or a central image or the music in the background lead me through.

So maybe THAT'S the challenge...learning how to go with the flow.

Investigating Inspiration

In an effort to discover what creativity is all about, what inspires, I've attempted to categorize a group of paintings presented in this blog during August and September of 2011. What I found out is that it's not simple -- there's nothing simple about inspiration. It's complex, a combination of response to physical surroundings, all mixed up with memories from other times and places, images and ideas sparked by challenges, musing, and just looking at materials.



"Ghost Tricycle"

 Here's a perfect example:  "Ghost Tricycle" began as a demo at a NM Watercolor Society, Southern Chapter meeting in April of 2004. I got the original idea while visiting a nearby ghost town, Lake Valley, in 2003.  An old, rusting tricycle was sitting in what had been the front yard of a home. Not much is left of the houses, but the trike remained, kind of an homage to the child who once played there.

Not only the images of the old toy and the house, but the lonely feeling of the abandoned town, the sound of wind whistling around broken fences, the hot, peppery smell of the desert, the crunch of gravel and dried vegetation affected my senses that day.

Later, looking at my photo of the scene, I recalled riding tricycles with my sister, playing in the front yard of other homes, long ago.

All memories and senses combined in a particular mood as I cut and tore papers, choosing colors and textures inspired by those memories and senses.

Nothing simple about that. This is going to take a lot more introspection!