I have finally subscribed to Jen's Folly. Really enjoyed reading the piece you sent and the exploration of not doing as a form of doing.
There is a progression that I don't entirely understand of how to ride the experience of allowing yourself to be. To be immersed in the experiential nature of life rather than trying to control it or the process of creation. Perhaps it is the enriching nature of this practice itself that makes the rest of experience so lucid. Perhaps it is the surrender of doing that makes all the other forms of resistance melt away and opens the door to possibilities of doing at another level. Whatever it is, it seems to be about a willingness and an openness that allows what is in you to come out, bypassing the brain or using it in a way that circumnavigates fear and regret (which become resistance). So that the book is not really the thing. The thing is the experience of writing the book because of the intrinsic value of it. I think this is an important shift and one that is very difficult to maintain without things like meditation practice. Another gift of working solidly for 2 months raising puppies and giving them away. Like a Buddhist sand painting blowing with the wind.
I understand how your writing through theatre is strongly linked to production. Perhaps this makes it even more important to work with this process. With the awareness that writing is not writing and that writing is writing and editing and reading and rereading and all of the things that it is. I will get back to it soon and you have made me very happy to think that all this time my not writing has been writing.
Your week sounds very full and creative. Not-writing definitely is writing, I think, as it usually leads to the unquenchable urge to write.
You're right. It's hard to ignore today's inauguration and what might happen next. But life will continue - and I enjoyed this dip into your week a lot. Thank you.
PS the chewing gum artist was (presumably still is) the father of a girl who was (an extremely long time ago) in my son's class at primary school. Tall and thin, a head of thick dark curly hair, he was very good looking and smiled a lot but didn't say much in the playground at pick-up time. In fact, I can't remember him ever saying anything at all. Maybe his head was in his art, or maybe he was overwhelmed by all the talkative women - who knows?
Wow. It truly is a deliciously small world! I have only seen the artist once, lying on the pavement outside Waitrose, Muswell Hill by a piece of chewing gum, paintbrush in hand - he certainly was long and thin, can't remember his hair and he never looked up. I wanted to go and talk to him but somehow felt it would be intrusive. I was so surprised to see the gum outside my house which is right off the beaten track...and so pleased to see he is still at it. I would love to know how he/if he earns a living?
I call it head writing and decided , after reading one too many times that I HAD to show up for my writing every single day, that head writing counts. The phrase that slips from synapse synapse and captures the joy that blooms as I open the blinds to the sunrise over Mt. Begbie on the first sunny day in forever, that counts.
I hear Sanderson say today, that we the writer are the art. It hit me, my life, my adventures, it all creates me the creator...so yes, not writing IS indeed writing.
You are very welcome. It's taken me a while to formulate the thought and realise that it is true. The amount of times I have 'stuff' to do and put off writing but am, without realising it, noodling an idea around and then when i eventually sit down to write it's all there!
Oh this is great Jenny! I have to send you the poem I wrote about buying an old fashioned alarm clock so I don’t have to look at my phone in the morning. I used to say thinking about writing is writing, but now maybe I can add not thinking about writing is writing.. I love that zen approach. In my workshops when writers say they haven’t written anything all week we make a point o give them a clap and a cheer!
I have finally subscribed to Jen's Folly. Really enjoyed reading the piece you sent and the exploration of not doing as a form of doing.
There is a progression that I don't entirely understand of how to ride the experience of allowing yourself to be. To be immersed in the experiential nature of life rather than trying to control it or the process of creation. Perhaps it is the enriching nature of this practice itself that makes the rest of experience so lucid. Perhaps it is the surrender of doing that makes all the other forms of resistance melt away and opens the door to possibilities of doing at another level. Whatever it is, it seems to be about a willingness and an openness that allows what is in you to come out, bypassing the brain or using it in a way that circumnavigates fear and regret (which become resistance). So that the book is not really the thing. The thing is the experience of writing the book because of the intrinsic value of it. I think this is an important shift and one that is very difficult to maintain without things like meditation practice. Another gift of working solidly for 2 months raising puppies and giving them away. Like a Buddhist sand painting blowing with the wind.
I understand how your writing through theatre is strongly linked to production. Perhaps this makes it even more important to work with this process. With the awareness that writing is not writing and that writing is writing and editing and reading and rereading and all of the things that it is. I will get back to it soon and you have made me very happy to think that all this time my not writing has been writing.
Your week sounds very full and creative. Not-writing definitely is writing, I think, as it usually leads to the unquenchable urge to write.
You're right. It's hard to ignore today's inauguration and what might happen next. But life will continue - and I enjoyed this dip into your week a lot. Thank you.
PS the chewing gum artist was (presumably still is) the father of a girl who was (an extremely long time ago) in my son's class at primary school. Tall and thin, a head of thick dark curly hair, he was very good looking and smiled a lot but didn't say much in the playground at pick-up time. In fact, I can't remember him ever saying anything at all. Maybe his head was in his art, or maybe he was overwhelmed by all the talkative women - who knows?
Wow. It truly is a deliciously small world! I have only seen the artist once, lying on the pavement outside Waitrose, Muswell Hill by a piece of chewing gum, paintbrush in hand - he certainly was long and thin, can't remember his hair and he never looked up. I wanted to go and talk to him but somehow felt it would be intrusive. I was so surprised to see the gum outside my house which is right off the beaten track...and so pleased to see he is still at it. I would love to know how he/if he earns a living?
I call it head writing and decided , after reading one too many times that I HAD to show up for my writing every single day, that head writing counts. The phrase that slips from synapse synapse and captures the joy that blooms as I open the blinds to the sunrise over Mt. Begbie on the first sunny day in forever, that counts.
Oh Leslie, I love your writing...slipping from synapse to synapse is such a great description those elusive bits of ideas. Enjoy your sunshine.
I hear Sanderson say today, that we the writer are the art. It hit me, my life, my adventures, it all creates me the creator...so yes, not writing IS indeed writing.
I love that idea. It's truly empowering. Validating.
I enjoyed your week - It’s good to be reminded not writing is writing - that’s a good start to my week. Thank you 🙏🏻
You are very welcome. It's taken me a while to formulate the thought and realise that it is true. The amount of times I have 'stuff' to do and put off writing but am, without realising it, noodling an idea around and then when i eventually sit down to write it's all there!
Oh this is great Jenny! I have to send you the poem I wrote about buying an old fashioned alarm clock so I don’t have to look at my phone in the morning. I used to say thinking about writing is writing, but now maybe I can add not thinking about writing is writing.. I love that zen approach. In my workshops when writers say they haven’t written anything all week we make a point o give them a clap and a cheer!
Please do send the poem. And I love the idea of the clap and a cheer. But what do you get if you DO write something?
I’m going try making an audio recording of the poem, cos it’s a wee bit theatrical.. will let you know how it goes!
looking forward to it...
We say, great well done, fantastic! You did it, keep going etc etc….
worth writing for.
I wonder if there will one day be a book about the book you wrote.
ooooo.....meta....Although, I still have to write the book ....