First, I’d like to remind all writers in the Philadelphia area that my monthly writers’ critique group will be meeting this Wednesday, June 6, 2007 at 7pm at the Borders Books in Springfield.
For more details, check out the Critique Group page here at the Brainripples blog, or email me at jadeblackwater [at] brainripples [dot] com .
Second, the Festival of the Trees 12 is up over at Arboreality. You’ll find a few of our regular Brainripples visitors as well as an abundance of tree-loving bloggers from around the world. The Festival of the Trees is a monthly blog carnival featuring posts and pictures about trees, forests, and wood.
If you would like to participate in future Festivals of the Trees by submitting work or hosting the Festival, be sure to visit the Festival of the trees coordinating blog for all the dirt.
Finally, a question for fun:
What is one of your earliest memories of creating something and feeling satisfied with that process of creation? A drawing in school? Your first batch of cookies? Your first engine rebuild? Tell us what you remember about some of your first artistic experiments.
For me, one of my earliest memories of creating a work I connected with was during a writing project in second grade (or was it first?). Our teacher was the best when it came to sparking the creative, and this was one of our first lessons in writing poetry. After initial discussions, we wandered out onto the playground in a line as she asked us to look around, see what catches our eye, and then write about it.
I still remember all the first things I noticed and wrote about for the project: a cloud that looked like a feather floating at the zenith, an old nursing stump, and a leaf skeleton caught in the duff. (In fact, somewhere in my art boxes, I bet I have that little book of poems!) These poems weren’t especially brilliant or witty or powerful – but they were mine. Once I felt capable of composing thoughts in a poetic form, I began to write my first poems that extended emotion and thought into metaphor and verse.
Don’t get me wrong though. I wasn’t some poetic genius at six, (and I’m still not even shining the shoes of the greats). These flashes of poetic insight were mere sprinkles of rain across a vast plain of ridiculous, outlandish, (and occasionally vulgar and potty-mouthed) short stories scratched in many a spiral-bound notebook.
Ok, your turn! What’s one of your earliest memories of creative inspiration?
If you don’t feel like scratching your head on that one, try this instead: what is one of the first projects/works/etc. that you created (or helped to create) that really made you feel satisfied with your own work, or amazed at your own ability?