I was once told that in order to write a story, you need to write from a place that speaks to your own soul, and something you have knowledge about. I find that true of just about any creative endevour - is that in order to produce a work that feels authentic and true, you should create from a place in your heart.
About 5 years ago now, my cousin showed me a photographer's website, the music on which was beautifully executed by the talented Amy Seeley. I loved her from that moment. As a musician, she has a completely unique sound that moved me. As a photographer, who has gained her popularity on instagram, she has a touching quiet quality.
Between the two, she is probably the majority of my inspiration lately. She lives in Kansas City, which, though it's no Minnesota, her posts and lyrics speak to my home-sick soul in a way where I can come away feeling comforted and reminded of the places I call home. She speaks of pines, of plains, of fog and frost. (Just a note: I really don't even try to alliterate anymore. It just happens. I'm not sorry.)
As I suspected would happen (which it has) I get so homesick for things. Things like taking a drive from the cities up hwy 65 to Grandma and Grampa's farm, acres of tall grass, cow pastures, and tall pines that cover the land with a small path that delves into its depths. Things like the small creek of the dock on the lake, or footsteps pounding, a breath of silence, and then a big splash sound as someone runs on the dock into the water. Or the rush of adrenaline that you get from a stormy night, staring out the window to catch an incredible lightning show. Or even watching as the thunderheads form and seeing a storm approach.
Or listening to the rain let loose from the sky, sometimes in a steady sleepiness and sometimes in an anger-induced rage. Or the scent after a good storm.
During the winter it was the hushed tones and the stillness of the snow gently fluttering down, or the cozy lazy days you bundle up in warm pajamas and wrap yourself up in a cozy blanket next to a window, watching as the wind shoves the snow up against the house. Or the sound of ice-skates on a frozen lake.
Things like a melancholy autumnal drive along Lake Superior, caught in vibrance of the colored trees against the pale foggy sky. Or the crunch of the leaves underneath your feet.
It's amazing the things you realize how much you miss when you don't have them anymore.
Amy Seeley's work has continually brought me back to those places, at least in my mind if anything. But more-so, she has produced within me a creative drive and vision. Finding my voice in writing and choreography has been a lot to do with her work. (There are several others that would take too much time to delve into tonight.)
So while I make time to write, to choreograph, to create...take the time to think what sounds you'd miss if you left your home. Think what stunning views you'd long to be among again. Think of the smells that'd force you to close your eyes and breath deep in their richness.
Now take those and create. Create a picture. Create a poem. Create a dance, a short story, a film, a song, a drawing, a new facebook cover photo.
Creativity is not just for the creative. It's for everyone. Remembering these things as you play around with ideas will help your work flow and give it a clear voice.
About 5 years ago now, my cousin showed me a photographer's website, the music on which was beautifully executed by the talented Amy Seeley. I loved her from that moment. As a musician, she has a completely unique sound that moved me. As a photographer, who has gained her popularity on instagram, she has a touching quiet quality.
Between the two, she is probably the majority of my inspiration lately. She lives in Kansas City, which, though it's no Minnesota, her posts and lyrics speak to my home-sick soul in a way where I can come away feeling comforted and reminded of the places I call home. She speaks of pines, of plains, of fog and frost. (Just a note: I really don't even try to alliterate anymore. It just happens. I'm not sorry.)
As I suspected would happen (which it has) I get so homesick for things. Things like taking a drive from the cities up hwy 65 to Grandma and Grampa's farm, acres of tall grass, cow pastures, and tall pines that cover the land with a small path that delves into its depths. Things like the small creek of the dock on the lake, or footsteps pounding, a breath of silence, and then a big splash sound as someone runs on the dock into the water. Or the rush of adrenaline that you get from a stormy night, staring out the window to catch an incredible lightning show. Or even watching as the thunderheads form and seeing a storm approach.
Or listening to the rain let loose from the sky, sometimes in a steady sleepiness and sometimes in an anger-induced rage. Or the scent after a good storm.
During the winter it was the hushed tones and the stillness of the snow gently fluttering down, or the cozy lazy days you bundle up in warm pajamas and wrap yourself up in a cozy blanket next to a window, watching as the wind shoves the snow up against the house. Or the sound of ice-skates on a frozen lake.
Things like a melancholy autumnal drive along Lake Superior, caught in vibrance of the colored trees against the pale foggy sky. Or the crunch of the leaves underneath your feet.
It's amazing the things you realize how much you miss when you don't have them anymore.
Amy Seeley's work has continually brought me back to those places, at least in my mind if anything. But more-so, she has produced within me a creative drive and vision. Finding my voice in writing and choreography has been a lot to do with her work. (There are several others that would take too much time to delve into tonight.)
So while I make time to write, to choreograph, to create...take the time to think what sounds you'd miss if you left your home. Think what stunning views you'd long to be among again. Think of the smells that'd force you to close your eyes and breath deep in their richness.
Now take those and create. Create a picture. Create a poem. Create a dance, a short story, a film, a song, a drawing, a new facebook cover photo.
Creativity is not just for the creative. It's for everyone. Remembering these things as you play around with ideas will help your work flow and give it a clear voice.
