La Salonniere

Brenda Ponnay

I’ve been reading Brenda Ponnay’s blog, Secret Agent Josephine, before her daughter Bug was a twinkle in her eye. I adore Brenda. She’s talented, immensely creative, self-deprecating and funny. Her blog is filled with creative inspiration, fun DIY projects for adults and kids, tales of adventure of her life as a single mom and tons of photos of her adorable daughter, Bug. Brenda is a freelance graphic illustrator with a really fun style. I’m so pleased to feature her here to share a glimpse of what inspires the woman who so generously shares her creativity with so many of us online.

1. B, let’s start with your online name—what inspired you to create your spying alter ego, Secret Agent Josephine?

It was a fluke actually. I was just poking around the internet looking for a free online journal program (I didn't even know what blogs were) and I stumbled across Blogspot.  I opened an account and named it the first random thing that popped into my head.  It's loosely based on the movie La Femme Nikita.  At the time I thought my journal would be secret from the world and I'd go by the anonymous name of Secret Agent Josephine.  

2. Your blog is one of my faves because it’s filled with so much fun and delight. Even when you’re documenting a hard or painful experience, you often still manage to find kernels of beauty, creativity and humor. How has living a life grounded in creativity helped you to maintain perspective through big life changes?

I think being creative is the best way to handle obstacles no matter what size they are, whether that's an artistic project or a big life change.  I probably learned how to be creative when I was really young as a way to solve boredom. We didn't have television and my mom wasn't really the type to drive us to the mall or put us in soccer, etc.  If I ever complained of being bored, my mom would tell me to sit on my bed until I thought of something to do. I always thought of something to do.  And I still do. I never sit still long.  I would credit my Dad for my eternal optimism though.  We're just born that way in my family. I may freak out at night and feel overwhelmed with negative thoughts but I usually bounce back every morning with new reserves. It's a blessing really.

3. Your daughter, Bug, is passionate about color. I remember when she went through her green phase; these days it’s pink. How does color affect you? Are there certain colors that you like to have in your home and/or wardrobe? If so, what do you love about them?

I'm not as passionate about color as you might think. I tend to like warm colors and colors that are in the same tonal range.  I hate combining light colors with dark colors or medium colors with light or dark. I'm kind of strange that way. It might be a generational thing. I find my mom loves dark and light together and so does Bug. Just not me.  I do have some basics I love though. Red, of course.  It's just my power color. Not that I think of myself as a power-monger but I find strength and beauty in it. It's happy and warm.  I also love orange and pink but those are just more moderate forms of red in my opinion.  There are certain things I do really like in my home and wardrobe though.  I like neutrals and black and white or navy blue and white stripes.  The neutrals I think are space holders for me. I need space and quiet and peace in between the big pops of color in my life.  Black and white or navy blue and white stripes are just a Paris thing. I'd have a dozen black and white striped shirts if I could!

4.  You’re a graphic illustrator. Was drawing a part of your young life? When did you know you wanted to pursue illustration and design as a career path?

I always drew. My family always tells stories of me turning over my placemat at restaurants and doodling all over them. I've always drawn stories and put together newspapers for my family as long as I can remember. My Grandpa paid for me to have oil painting lessons when I was six from a friend of his who needed some extra money. I learned a lot of basics at a very young age that has really helped me all my life.

I always wanted to be an artist or a book writer when I was young.  But when I got serious about a career, I put art on the back burner. I thought there wasn't any money in art. So I majored in journalism in college because I liked to write (and my grandmother majored in it as well, it seemed like the romantic thing to do at the time). Of course that led to working on school newspapers and magazines and I picked up my computer layout skills there.  Journalism never really worked out for me but graphic design did.  I worked as a graphic designer for years and then in the last seven years or so have wedged my way into the illustration field. It's taken me a long time to take myself serious as an illustrator so maybe that's why I call myself a graphic illustrator. I do a lot of graphic design with illustrations thrown in.

5.  As a single mom who’s a freelancer—and someone who readily admits to keeping odd sleep hours—how do you manage to juggle work, play and down time?

By drinking coffee!  Just kidding. I try to work solidly from 9am to 3pm with a break for lunch with Bug. After 3pm I run errands and do household things. Of course Bug is with me a lot of the time while I'm working so I can't say I'm always working when I'm supposed to be working. I try though. Bug is in preschool two days a week which gives me some good solid work time on Tuesday and Thursdays but the rest of the time she sits next to me at her little desk doing her own "work" or she is off playing in the house or in our great big backyard.  She often will spend time with my Mom who lives next door. They garden together and once a week take a shopping trip and go out to lunch at McDonald's.  I go to bed early (8pm!!) but I often wake up around midnight and do more work.  I usually stay up from midnight to 3 or 4 in the morning and then crash from 4am until 6am.  It's strange but it works for me!  Every Friday we go into Orange County so Bug can visit her Dad. While she's with him I usually meet up with friends. So that's where I fit in my playtime. And of course work for me is playing so I don't think I really have to juggle that hard to fit in playtime.  :)

6. One of the things that makes your blog so fun to read is all of the projects you create to do with your daughter. What have been some of Bug’s recent favorite projects?

She's getting the hang of scissors these days so her favorite thing is probably cutting out hearts. I'm constantly picking up bits of paper all over the place.  Thankfully, she doesn't mind cutting up recycled paper. Otherwise I'd fear for the trees!  She loves all the craft projects I do with her. She loved the noodle monster project we did for Alpha+Mom. In fact I often struggle with her over when we can throw out projects we've made. I think she'd like to keep every craft doodad we ever made forever.  It's sort of a battle between us. I do love the collaborations we do though. She makes me a better artist.

7. You recently relocated to a mobile home in your hometown near your family. It’s been fun to read how you’re redecorating it in your own wonderful style. I know you love a good thrift store as much as I do. Can you share a few of your favorite thrifting tips?  

I'm always looking for anything that remotely reminds me of the 60's or 70's. If it looks like something out of Mad Men or something that my parents might have liked when they were hippies then I'd probably like it.  I also look for old paintings too, real oil paintings (not prints) are the best. I don't like cliché paintings of boats or somebody's high school art project but a portrait from the 60's is like gold.  Pottery is probably next on my list of things to look for. It's like a treasure hunt to find something that might be valuable. If it's stamped with USA or McCoy on the bottom, I seriously consider snagging it but of course I look for form and color first. If something is pretty to me then it really doesn't matter to me if anybody else thinks it's valuable.  I guess I just use my imagination. If I can imagine something looking cool in a magazine spread then it's probably something I'd probably buy. I'm always creating stories and vignettes in my mind about where something might have come from.  Would James Bond use this? Maybe Audrey Hepburn or Amelie!

8. Part of your relocation has been a change of landscape. You previously lived in a beach town; now you’re inland. What do you love about your new locale and how have you incorporated some of your previous beach life into your new setting?

Since I grew up in the desert there has always been a part of me that loves it out here. The big skies, the mountain views, the cactus that perseveres in any kind of weather... It can be desolate but it's also quite pretty. Also, there are things out here that I didn't have at the beach like a big backyard. I love my backyard. I think that really helps me from getting homesick. I can't take long walks on the beach anymore but I can garden and play with my daughter and dog in my very own space.

The second part of your question is hard for me to answer! The town I live in is actually very poor and depressed and it can be a real downer to see so many people who can't catch a break. I think one of the traps I see here that bothers me the most is how easy it is to mindlessly shuffle between the big box stores and fast food chains. That's all there really is out here. People don't have time or money to live well.  We don't have gourmet sandwich shops that offer healthy vegetarian options or boutique clothing stores selling handmade organic items. It's pretty much Wal-Mart and Target.  I think living at the beach sort of made a diva out of me. I want better things. I like to cook home meals that are better for me. I like to exercise and take care of myself.  I'm not saying that all people out here are slobs. That's not true at all. But it is definitely a lot easier to be healthier at the beach where the community is more upwardly mobile and people have more leisure time for these things.  So I guess I can say I've brought my healthy beach habits with me.

9. You’ve had to deal with creative theft online—with others taking your content and publishing it on their own sites. It’s an uncomfortable situation that we often don’t like to discuss, but I suspect it happens more often than we think. How have you addressed it when it’s happened to you? What safeguards do you take to try to block future thefts?

There's not much you can do. Especially when the theft is happening by websites set up in China. I don't have the time or money it takes to hire a lawyer to track them all down.  If I see overly blatant stealing I contact the offender and ask them to take it down or link me. Most do.  Most people don't know better so I try to kindly educate them.  I've watermarked my photographs mostly so I can prove they are mine if one ever gets lifted. It won't stop people of course but it slows them down.  I know there are programs you can set up on your website to stop right clicking but people take screen shots so it's sort of a hopeless battle. I think my best revenge is knowing that I have a thousand more images in my head that I can create on a whim while they will always have to copy me.  

10. I love the idea of creative bartering—helping each other with creative projects by swapping skills. You often write of you and your family members helping each other in this way. If you could put out a wish for creative bartering right now, what would you wish for?

 I love to trade graphics for website coding.  I don't code but I get asked to design websites all the time. So often I'll design a website in Illustrator and then hand it off to a friend who does know how to code.  I'll trade anything though.  Less taxes!

11. What adventures might readers see in the lives of Secret Agent Josephine and Bug in 2011?

I'm dreaming of travel. I'd like to go to a trade show in New York and possibly a road trip to Northern California to visit my family. I don't know if that will happen because funds are tight but I'm dreaming. I'm also thinking of making marmalade and of course lots of crafts. I've got an idea of making my own book light brewing in my head right now. I've never played around with electrical wiring before, that could be a real adventure.  Bug also starts kindergarten this September so I'm sure that will bring a slew of adventures into our lives too.

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With a nod to Brenda's mom, Susan McConnaughy, in #6, I couldn't end this interview without mentioning her equally creative dad, Tom McConnaughy. Tom the Trucker has been my online pal for years. He's an avid knitter who's been featured in the Wall Street Journal. Tom specializes in slippers. He's making me a pair with black and orange stripes--San Francisco Giants colors--which I plan to wear as good luck charms during baseball season.  ;) You can check out Tom the Trucker's Etsy shop here. "Honk if you knit!"

 

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and finally, a word from Bug:

 

All photos copyright Brenda Ponney. Used with permission.

Blog:  Secret Agent Josephine

Portfolio

Flickr:  Secret Agent Josephine

Twitter:  @secretagentjo

Facebook:  Secret Agent Josephine

Maya Stein

Maya Stein is a writer and poet living in San Francisco. Her gorgeous poems and prose have inspired so many of us in the blogosphere. Her writing is, and can be, so many things—honest, deep, fierce, thoughtful, erotic, lush, gentle, fearless. In addition to her own books (linked below), several of her poems currently appear in Patti Digh’s Creative Is a Verb. Having been a fan of Maya’s poetry for years, I’m honored to feature her here.

1.  I’ve been reading your beautiful poems at your blog for many years. How does writing poetry nourish you?

Well, first of all, Marilyn, I’m totally honored that you asked to interview me. And I’m delighted that you’ve been such a long-standing reader!

It’s funny, but when people ask me what I write and I say “poetry” I find myself grimacing slightly. I worry about how that sounds to an outsider, but maybe more truthfully I just haven’t completely come to peace with that word on my own. As an English major in college, “poetry” was complicated and epically long and full of totally obscure references and most of all, so serious. And largely inaccessible.

But I think the blog – more than anything – has really deepened my relationship to poetry. I think it has to do with a combination of my own life experiences drawing more out of me creatively, having found a certain kind of rhythm and style in my writing and being more comfortable around expressing myself. And there’s the public nature of the blog and the accompanying gentle pressure it applies on me to stay current. And of course, it’s become important to me to create pieces of writing that are both personal and approachable. So that combination of elements is a really good template for me to work from, to help guide my writing. Just having that kind of structure in place gives me a better understanding of how I want to shape each piece. At the same time, I try to let myself off the hook a little. I’m not aiming for perfection here. The little tagline under my blog title begins “This is not about getting it right,” and that’s my permission slip, in writing and in life.

2.  I loved reading about the traveling poetry project you created for yourself last fall, Tour de Word. You seemed so good at finding the gifts in each experience. Often when we embark on large projects like that, we can’t help but imagine what it will be like. Can you share a moment from the tour when the experience didn’t look like you might have imagined it would, but turned out to be surprisingly gratifying?

There were a lot of these along the way. I remember a particular moment driving on Route 2 through northern Montana and North Dakota. I had been thinking about this stretch of the trip before I even left, imagining it as a sort of desolate and lonely experience. It was a road I wanted to take because it was off the interstate and I was determined to stay off the main roads. When you look at the map, Route 2 is long and straight and there are not many towns that it goes through. So there was this little niggling worry – what if my car broke down in the middle of nowhere? What if I didn’t have cell phone service? Mind you, all of this happened before I even arrived at the beginning of that road. All that anticipation. I was preparing myself for solitude and rigor and mishap. But then, after coming down from Glacier National Park and merging on Route 2, all of that just fell away. It turned out to be one of the most beautiful drives of the trip. Not because of what was happening outside – although there was something very starkly beautiful about that scenery and I took about 300 photographs in those two days alone – but because of what was happening inside. That drive turned out to be deeply peaceful for me. I began to actually enjoy my own company and to see the importance of that as the rest of trip followed. How vital it was that I enjoy myself in the process. During that drive, I really began to understand that I was my own best friend, and that I would never be alone.

Of course, there were a lot of gratifying moments in the workshops themselves. I had no idea how it would be to lead a writing workshop for adults – I’d never done that before – so the idea of it felt like walking into the fire. Except what really happened was not about fire at all. What it came down to was just people writing in a room together, and me guiding the experience for them. It was less about “teaching” than “facilitation,” and I think just that shift in my own thinking gave me permission to step more fully into that role. From the very first workshop, I walked in trusting that what needed to happen would happen. I had faith that the right people would be there, and I had faith in the process and my relationship to it. I don’t know how. Maybe because I had no interest in the alternative.

3. Your Tour de Word blog posts were accompanied by lovely photographs of your travels. How did photography as a medium impact your creative experience while you were on tour?

I think taking photographs along the way gave me a sense of both place – the geography I was in - and progress – how far I was coming along. I also had a keen sense that I was documenting my trip for others. The pictures were like these breadcrumbs, and a way for people to connect to where I was even if they couldn’t physically be there with me.

I was so taken with the beauty of the country, and I felt very lucky to be able to explore it at this pace. To have the luxury of taking back roads and stopping in unexpected places. I tried to build in enough time in between stops to allow for detours. And I found that the most striking discoveries came from those detours. Again, it was both outer and inner experience – I think of detours on the metaphorical level, too. That joy of coming upon something unexpected. And marking it, memorializing it by taking a photograph. There weren’t a lot of people in my photos – mostly landscapes, views of open plains, mountains, bodies of water, bridges, trees, rain, and the road itself. I took a lot of photos of the roads I drove on. I’d take these in the middle of driving, through the front windshield. Probably not safe, but for me, this was the quintessential moment that captured the experience of what it meant to leave home to do this. There’s both this exhilaration about the open road and also a groundedness – this is the way you get from one place to another. You always have a road underneath you, in one form or another. You’re never really lost. I think all of my photographs were my way of reminding myself of that.

4.  Tour de Word was an offshoot of a long-time poetry project, 10-line Tuesday. How has the discipline of maintaining that Tuesday practice for so many years helped in other areas of your life?

I started “10-line Tuesday” because I wanted to have a writing practice that was manageable, that was enough of a stretch in terms of keeping me creative and holding me accountable, but was also something that was approachable to readers. Bite-sized poetry. So those themes – manageable and approachable – have been good guidelines for me in terms of coming up with new projects. I like to push myself enough – to do something that’s sort of butting up against my comfort zone – but also to keep it accessible. It’s all about gentle expansion, like in the way continental drift happens. I think if the work is too rigorous, or the idea too lofty, you start to put ridiculous amounts of pressure on yourself to succeed, and the project fails because it’s too top-heavy – carrying too much weight in its ideas instead of its executions. “10-line Tuesday” was about setting up a goal that I was actually excited to meet. If nothing else happens that week, I know that I have still gotten to be creative and to actually finish something. I really believe that a feeling of ongoing accomplishment – no matter how small - is crucial to keep growing, creatively and otherwise.

5.  For those who might believe poetry is not in the realm of possibility for them, what’s a simple exercise anyone can use to tap into their inner poet?

I think the first thing you have to do is relax. Absolve yourself of the pressure of writing POETRY. That’s a buzzkill every time, and most certainly a creative block. You can’t know exactly what you’re going to be writing. The trick is to keep the muscle loose and flexible, give yourself room to breathe. I always think that with every new piece of writing, I’m starting over as a writer. I may have written something good two weeks ago, but I’m looking at something new that’s never been written before and I have to keep that beginner’s mind as I start putting words down.

But in terms of what to do creatively, how to actually generate a piece of writing? Take down notes. Fragments. Snippets, snapshots of what interests you. Scan over the past few days or the past couple of weeks and see what lands on you, what catches your attention. Think in terms of visual, physical details, sensorial details – maybe your son knocked over a vase of carnations, or a check bounced, or you saw the full moon and it left you breathless. Maybe you had a bizarre dream one night, or a friend from your past contacted you, or you wore your favorite pair of jeans and felt totally in your body. This exercise is merely about paying attention to small moments, fleeting experiences, excerpts from life, snatches of conversation. I try to start small with every new piece and build from that. Again, this is about setting reasonable goals that push but don’t force.

I did this exercise during my workshops on Tour de Word. I’d have people write about 7 or 8 little fragments, and then we’d go around the room one at a time and read our lists one item at a time. It was really incredible to listen to everyone, and see them listening to each other, and then to see them light up when they realized that even a little fragment could read like poetry.  It gave them a very different take on what they could do – on a small, manageable scale – to tap into their own creativity.

6.  You’re in the process of teaching an e-course, Feral Writing. The tagline is: An Online Workshop for Untamed Storytellers. In what way(s) do you like to give yourself permission to remain untamed?

I started the course because I feel in certain ways that we’re losing that primal connection to our intuition. Whether it’s because of how much information we take in on a daily basis, or our own rigorous self-criticisms, or social pressure, whatever – it seems to get harder and harder to maintain a relationship with our instincts. I think writing is especially hard to keep “wild” because we always want to have it make sense, or tell a complete story. So a lot of the work of the class is about deconstructing and returning to the source of things. Moments of time, fragments of experience, sensory details that lit something up inside.

I think the notion of “light” is very important when it comes to nourishing that wildness. Years ago, when I was talking with a friend about a frustrating relationship I was in, he said, “Go where the light is.” And that instruction hit me dead center in the chest. I got it immediately. What he was saying was to stop struggling. To stop believing that I should be struggling. That there was a difference between good work and work that was rigorous for no reason. My job was to connect to the stuff that lit me up in the right ways. It didn’t mean that everything would be easy. But at least it would be clear.

Having a relationship with wildness and exploration feels very important to me. So being outside is great, and almost any kind of movement – playing basketball, going on a drive, taking a stroll somewhere, even just going to the park with good book – this kind of stuff always feeds me.

I also do things like eat when I’m hungry and sleep when I’m tired. I try to stay in tune with my body, with my internal cycles and needs. When my body wants or needs something, I listen. Because if it’s not happy, then I not going to do a very good job of putting it to use.

7.  You’ve published a book of poetry and photography and two collections of essays. What do you enjoy about the editing process when you’re crafting a new collection of your work?

To be totally honest, I’m not a very good editor of my own work. So I kind of avoided that part of it for those books, although a lot of the pieces in there were workshopped in writing classes so at least other people had their eyes on them before I printed them.

But the part I really love about putting a book together is the design. I’m a closet designer and so any opportunity to play around with fonts and formats and images is deeply fun for me. The ordering of pieces is a little hard, but it’s really about not thinking too hard about it, just kind of having a sensor out there for transitions and timing. Maybe one piece is particularly dense so the one that follows it should give the reader a little bit of break.

I guess at the heart of it, putting a book together is about getting into the mindset of a reader. It can be a refreshing change actually, after all that immersion in the material. 

8.  You’re also a caterer and have a catering company, Three Pears Catering. Do you find that some of your writing skills are translatable to your catering career and/or vice versa? How do those two creative paths complement each other?

I love to cook is because it gets me out of the cogitative state that I’m in when I’m writing. It’s more about intuition and action. I’m not thinking a whole lot when I cook, I’m just doing. And that’s a good reference point for me in terms of writing, to know what that’s like so that I can really feel my way through a piece instead of thinking too hard about it. It’s interesting because the longer I write the harder this is to do. Getting back to that “beginner’s mind” when I start something new. Not dragging everything I’ve experienced from a previous piece. Of course, I see this is in life, too – these are all just metaphors for living. So this is about staying connected to some kind of primal nature and allowing that to take the lead. It’s not easy, but when I’m in the middle of an experience where this is happening, I feel unambiguously happy.

It used to be that my writing was a lot more solitary and the catering was kind of a social outlet…but now, in the way that I’ve been sharing my work online, and of course the trip I just took, and the Feral Writing course…that’s connected me to a lot of people, so writing has become far less solitary. And that feels like good progress. 

9.  You’re an avid cyclist and took your bicycle on tour with you. Can you describe a recent favorite ride?

I think my favorite ride on the trip was in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I’d had a rough workshop the evening before at a writing center for kids – the bulk of the participants were between 9 and 12 years old and I think they’d been sent by their parents, so they were a little grumpy about being there. It was a pretty excruciating 2 hours. Thankfully, I didn’t have to go anywhere the next day, and I woke up with a very clear set of instructions in my head: find a body of water and bench to sit and quietly look at it.

So I looked on the map and found this park about 12 miles away and just hopped on my bike and rode there. I found a nice country road to go on, and it was in the thick of fall so the leaves were just stunning. The day was warm and I biked through a town where I stopped to pick up some stuff for lunch, and I got to the park – Hudson Mills Metropark – and there it was. The river, and a bench right by it. I started to cry – in a good way. It’s like I got exactly what I asked for. It was a great big gift, that ride, and it really brought me back to center in the best way. By the time I rode back to where I was staying, I was like a different person. And the workshops that followed that bike ride felt so much steadier to me. It’s like I just got into some sort of new groove.

10.  In May 2009 you wrote a guest post at Superhero Journal as you were training for a week-long cycling trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles. You talked of experiencing an epiphany when you let yourself relax into a place of non-judgment:

What if there was no such thing as “hot” or “windy” or “freezing?” What if it was just called “weather”? What if I stopped thinking in terms of miles and used the word “space” instead? And what if there was no such thing as “uphill” or “downhill” and it was simply called “the path”?

What’s your process these days for getting to that place of non-judgment—to clear space to just be with what is?

I just do my best to stick with what’s happening at any given moment. I think so much of those judgments can come because we have this picture in our heads about what things should look like or sound like or taste like or be like, and when they aren’t that’s when we get upset, and something inside of us gets shaken. But when I stay with what is – even when it’s unpleasant – I can move with it a lot more easily.

There were certainly some days on the trip that were challenging for me. But all I really had to do was say to myself, “Wow, this is challenging” and almost instantly there was a kind of self-empathy about that. By simply acknowledging and validating my own feelings, I was able to get some distance from the “problem” and then it became almost humorous, a good story to tell later.

I recently got introduced to Byron Katie’s work, and I just started reading her book, “Loving What Is.” She talks about three kinds of business – my business, your business, and God’s business. And the only business I can do anything about is my business. But so often, we get involved in other people’s business. We want them to act in a certain way, or do things differently, or whatever. And of course, there are things even further beyond that that we get all twisted up about. When something doesn’t seem to “work out.” Whenever barriers come up and prevent our moving forward. This is the stuff that’s God’s business, which as I see it is about forces of nature or circumstances that I do not have a hand in. So I can’t do very much about those.

So when I stick to my business  alone – which in my mind is all the stuff that only I can control – then I can really start to get some distance from what’s not mine to worry about. It’s a much more powerful place to act from, when you’re just taking care of what’s yours to take care of. So I’m seeing myself start to unclench from trying to fix things for others, or inserting myself in places where I don’t belong, or “wishing” things were different, or otherwise putting effort in situations I do not have the power on my own to change. And it’s remarkable how much less stressed out I get.

11.  Maya, I’d like to close this interview with a video clip of you reading from your work. I’ll let you choose what you’d like to share with us. Thank you.

You know this makes me a little nervous, but okay. Here goes.

Begin Here from Maya Stein on Vimeo.

Blogs:  one paragraph at a time, this every moment

Feral Writing: An Online Workshop for Untamed Storytellers

10-line Tuesday

Tour de Word 2010 - A Traveling Poetry Project

Books:  Papaya Publishing

Three Pears Catering

Photo of Maya Stein by Stefanie Renee Lindeen

Patti Digh

When I first discovered Patti Digh’s extraordinary blog, 37 Days, in 2005, I felt like I was home. Who was this extraordinary woman whose every post resonated so loudly with me? Patti is the author of several books, most recently Life Is a Verb, Creative Is a Verb and Four-Word Self-Help: Simple Wisdom for Complex Lives. She is a popular speaker and with her partner, David Robinson, the co-founder of The Circle Project which is transforming K-12 and teacher education and providing telecoaching experiences and retreats for individuals. Patti resides in Asheville, North Carolina with her amazing husband, Mr. Brilliant, and her younger daughter, Tess, a blazing-bright creative being. Her older daughter, Emma, is a student at North Carolina State and totally rocks the sousaphone section of their marching band. Patti is one of the most heart-centered people I know and I’m honored to call her friend.

1. Let me start by asking you one of your own questions: What kind of landscape are you a part of? What landscape gives you a potent sense of belonging?

It was Keith Basso who wrote, “wisdom sits in places.” I love that phrase, and I see and feel the potency of that image and that understanding. Wisdom does sit in places—I have felt that. Have you? Having traveled around the world for many years, I came to believe that I could live anywhere. I still believe that. But not everywhere is home, is it? Not everywhere provides that sense of belonging and comfort and peace that comes with finding your place in the world. It has become clear to me that I resonate with some places more than with others, a deep heartfelt sense of “yes.” I’m not sure there is a cohesive thread between those places, either, in terms of physical landscape: Some are urban, others rural, many are near water. But the thread true to all of them is a great sense of love, of that hollowing out of the chest that comes with the urge to be there. And more and more, I realize that while there is a physicality to landscape—a longing to lie down on the earth, a wish to be in that space in a fuller way—there is more often than not a longing to be in a landscape of people I love. My girls are the mountains, my husband John is the rock I stand on to look out to sea, the people I meet because of my work are the fields of gold. And there is ample space for me to be alone, knowing they will be there when I come back, and that I take a part of them with me.

2. In Creative Is a Verb, you write about how we can sometimes deflect our creative selves. Is there a part of your creative self that you realized you’d been deflecting and have now fully owned?

I believe there are three ways we block ourselves from being our most creative: 1) False comparisons with others; 2) False expectations of ourselves; and 3) False investments in a story. All three of them are deflections that keep us from fully inhabiting that creative spark we had as children, the one before we started comparing our drawings of trees with the girl next to us in art class, before we started focusing on being the best rather than the most fully human, and before we had formed in concrete the story that we’re not the creative one, we’re the _________ one. The freest I’ve ever been is when I started writing 37days in 2005—I had only one intention: Not to build a successful blog (I really didn’t know what a blog was), and not to create a book, but simply to write my stories down for my two daughters in case I died. That was it. The power of a single intention. Life is a Verb quickly became a quiet bestseller.  And then the deflections began: What if my next book isn’t as good? Maybe I only had one book in me. What will people say if I tell the story of ________________? I’m not a guru, I’m an overweight white-haired slightly depressed menopausal woman. We wrap stories around everything. Every single thing. And I know now the story I can wrap around myself can either be one of joy and creativity and absolute wonder, or of comparisons. I choose Option A. Almost always.

3. As someone who is in demand as a speaker and travels frequently for business, what steps do you take to ensure that you have sufficient time to recharge? How are you creating stillness in your days?

This is a powerful question for me right now. I have only this year begun to practice this kind of self-love. Last year was sacred for me—there was a lot of death and illness and difficulty—and this year I want to create a spaciousness. Space on my calendar, space in my head and body, space in my house. So my answer this year is different than it has been in the past. Last year, this question would have drawn a blank stare from me, I fear. Because the answer would have been that I don’t do those things, I don’t take care of myself, I’m tired.

In response to recognizing that, I started a year of mindful eating and moving on January 1, 2011, to ensure that I recharge, take care of myself, create space in my head and body. My new blog, becoming bendy, is documenting this journey, and I can say that just a month into it, I feel healthier, both mentally and physically. My doctor put me on antidepressants at the end of 2010 and told me to lose weight to get my blood pressure down—it had gone up to 188/144, and that scared me. Having a father who died at 53 from heart issues is always in the back of my mind, especially as I teeter nearer and nearer to that age. Having a doctor look at me and ask if I was depressed also scared me: Was it that obvious I was in a bad space? Yes, yes it was. I was in a wet paper bag and couldn’t get out of it.

After a month of moving my body every day, paying attention to the structure of my days, eating vegan until dinnertime (I’ve been a vegetarian since 1976), I feel fundamentally different: more flexible, clear-headed, spacious, sure, and happy. Stillness is coming to me by design; I am creating space in my day for it. I just started a meditation practice, and am making time for that, too. My approach to wellness has changed—it no longer includes numbers and measurements, which has freed me up to really focus on wellness, and not on weight, to focus on a kinder, gentler way of being in the world as I am.

4. Because you’re such a frequent flier, you wrote in Creative Is a Verb of longing “for another perspective, the one at the eye level of corn.” What are a couple of small steps we can take when we’re craving a shift in perspective?

I love your questions, Marilyn. This has everything to do with really seeing what is in front of us every day. Not what we expect to see, but what is really there. As my business partner, David Robinson, says, what we are teaching people is akin to what he learned in art school (he’s a painter): To see. Anything that takes us out of our normal viewpoint does this: reading a magazine we wouldn’t normally read, going to a community meeting about an issue on which we haven’t focused, riding a city bus instead of driving, getting on our hands and knees and “walking” around our house at the level of a child, going as a guest to the gathering place of a religion we don’t practice, taking a photograph every day of the color red as we find it in our day, asking someone “what are you going through?” and then just listening to their answer without feeling the need to tell our story, looking at children’s art, using a wheelchair or crutches for a day, trying to learn to play a new instrument….there are a million simple ways. Madame Curie has said, “Dissymmetry causes phenomena.” Only when we are in some kind of disequilibrium can we really see. Find ways to knock yourself off balance. Daily.

5. Bullying seems to be rampant in the U.S. these days and it’s across the board—from the top levels of politics and media to the neighborhood schoolyard. What simple actions can begin to put an end to bullying in our daily lives?

Kindness is always an option. Always. If we are bullied, we need to respond with kindness. Not because it will teach the bully anything, but because it is a form of detachment that more beautifully expresses our own worldview. Everything that happens to us is free data—mostly about us. If I am bullied and fight back, I’ve become a bully myself. If I am bullied and refuse to pick up my end of the rope, I maintain my own integrity, my own deep sense of self that overrides any circumstance in which I find myself. I think anyone who makes fun of others is a bully—I’ve been one, and so have you. Websites like “the people of WalMart” and others that make fun of or seek to humiliate others—those are bullies. Sometimes our bosses are bullies and it takes a lot to stand up and detach inside that circumstance—those are the moments that really count. Sometimes detachment is the only way through. Not escalation, but detachment. Adults are bullies, perhaps more than children, but this epidemic of bullying in schools particularly bothers me—responsible adults (parents, teachers, community members) must speak up and be advocates for those we see being bullied who are, perhaps, too young to see that it will get better. Reach out to those children you perceive might be having a tough time, and listen to them. Intervene when necessary. If someone says your child is bullying, don’t become defensive—seek information and take action. We need to keep our children alive.

In a world in which public humiliation has become entertainment (reality television, tabloid news, for example), we’re not setting a good example for our children. We have to do better.

6. “I’ll try” is, as you write in Creative Is a Verb, the “enemy of intention.” In what area of your life did you realize you were sitting on the fence in the land of try and how did you get clear on your intention?

I’ve always been a leaper. I do change like the French Revolution. If I want to write a new blog or book because I have something new to document or say, I write it. There’s no strategy except the strategy of saying what I most long to say. Impetuous? You bet. So I don’t stay in the land of try very often, but I do recognize its seductive qualities: let’s research the ever loving hell out of something before moving forward, let’s hold another focus group, let’s benchmark some best practices. These all imply an intention of selling; my intention is saying.

“How” is a far easier question to ask (and answer) than “why.” But it’s the “why” that matters.

7. There’s a chapter in Creative Is a Verb called “Listen to tiny fishies” where you tell a lovely story about something that happened with your daughter, Emma, when she was three years old. You write, “I had finally stopped flying long enough to hear her.” What’s one thing you’ve recently realized that you had stopped long enough to hear?

I got a message on my cell phone during my last book tour from my youngest daughter, Tess, who is now seven years old. Her little voice quavered and broke as she said, “Momma, please come home. I need you.” I think you can imagine how this broke my heart. So I’m looking for ways to share my work and stay home more. Sometimes we have to hear the same message over and over again, don’t we? The message from Emma was the same message: “I dreamed I was a little tiny fish and I couldn’t find my mommy,” she said. Tess is saying the same thing. I’m listening. Again.

8. Both Life Is a Verb and Creative Is a Verb were collaborative projects where you incorporated art and poetry from your readers around the world. What have you enjoyed most about the collaborative process while creating your recent books?

These collaborations have changed my life. At a most basic level, it is hard for me to ask for help. There are probably a lot of reasons for that—but I’ve always been the one others go to for help and it’s hard to create space for me to ask others. I’m working on that. I remember when my father died—I was just a teenager, but every adult around me, from my mother to the funeral home director, asked me what to do next, how to set up the funeral, what songs to use. I love being of service to others, and I now realize how precious it is to open up that space for others to help us. When Life is a Verb was being published and there was this extraordinary outpouring of love and art and poetry from readers, I was made speechless by the generosity. I simply asked, and the world opened up its heart to me. It was an artistic barn raising of such magnitude, and made the book a work of art created by love. Opening up space for people to make art is part of my work now, and I dearly love that. To see interpretations of my words into art is so meaningful and humbling to me. I love the community that has gathered to create art. In my newest book, What I Wish For You: Simple Wisdom for a Happy Life, coming out this spring, you’ll see contributions from people around the world, both in art and in writing. The wisdom we need is within all of us. All of us have something to say—we have all walked across our own personal desert. Not just the famous people, the ones we often pay attention to, but all of us have a wisdom. I’m so delighted to open space up for the saying.

My collaborative blog, 3x3x365: 3 friends, 3 states, a photo every day in 2011, was born out of an online friendship with two extraordinary women, true storytellers. I love their perspectives on life. The three of us have never met in one place at the same time, and this project is a way for us to deepen our friendship across distance. I am loving the way our photos and stories (none of which are shared beforehand) are intertwining and revealing the connections that are there between all humans, but we don’t see them.

9. One of my all-time favorite 37 Days essays is “Follow your desire lines.” You wrote, “Natural human purpose. What is mine? Yours? Maybe if I look at the paths I’ve worn, over and over again, I’ll see that purpose show itself…” That post was written on December 7, 2005. Patti, in the ensuing years, what have you learned about your desire lines?

I love these questions, Marilyn. In these six years, I have found the power of a single intention—not writing to have a successful blog, not writing to get a certain number of page views, not writing to get a book contract, but just writing. Writing what I long to say, separate from all those measures we place on ourselves. Playing with language to make it say what I most need and long to say—an extraordinary process if divorced from outcome. Living in the process (and not the outcome) of writing is one of my desire lines. And some days it is a struggle, that, because we are surrounded by people measuring things and expecting us to.

Opening space for people to say what they long to say is another. Living life on a very human scale is another—meeting people one-on-one and listening to their stories and telling mine. My desire lines are now vastly different from eleven years ago when my first business book was published. There is a vulnerability inherent in my desire lines now, a knowing, a private journey that plays out in my words. I’m getting better at stepping into my own journey and letting go of the expectations of others. There is a simplicity to knowing, and I am enjoying the spaciousness that allows.

Beyond all that, my desire lines are, ultimately, intensely personal: to be a mother to my children, a friend to other humans, an activist working for social justice, and an artist whose art shows up in the world in many different forms. I don’t want to be an expert, but a friend, a collaborator, a teller of my own truths.

Blogs:  37 Days, becoming bendy, 3x3x365

The Circle Project

37 Days shop

Creative Is a Verb Retreat - April 7-10, 2011 (near Asheville, NC - limited to 16 participants)

Twitter:  @pattidigh

Facebook:  Patti Digh

 

Liz Lamoreux

Liz Lamoreux is the author of Inner Excavation – Explore Your Self Through Photography, Poetry  and Mixed Media. It’s a beautiful book filled with wonderful creative exercises. Liz is a writer, photographer, poet, mixed-media artist and yoga teacher. She chronicles her life in the Puget Sound area with her husband, Jon, their baby, Eleanor Jane, and dog, Millie, at Be Present, Be Here. I hope that by the end of this interview, you’ll understand why she’s loved by many, including me.

1. Liz, you and I have a common experience in our life stories: we both spent our 10^th years sewing and baking in 4-H clubs. You tell a wonderful story in your book about returning to sewing 20 years later, yet not quite perceiving your creations as art. How did you finally allow your inner fabric artist to emerge and blossom?

So glad you asked me about fabric and not the experience of being the second to last quick bread judged in a tent in Northern Indiana on a 98-degree August day in 1987. My sewing talents seem to be much greater than my quick bread talents; though, I must admit I haven’t made quick bread since….

Now to answer your questions: When I began sewing again, I started creating bags and aprons and didn’t really see myself as a fabric artist. As I became more comfortable sewing and creating my own patterns, I was drawn to using vintage fabrics and buttons and other sewing supplies. When I began to think about the stories that those items held because the women who came before me had used them, I slowly realized that I was releasing those stories with each stitch. Somewhere in there, I began to see that I was also telling new stories. The truth is, it is all about the stories for me when it comes to creating and art and writing and photography. When I had the aha moment that an apron could actually invite someone to feel just as connected to something real in the same way a painting can, I began to see my fabric creations as art.

2. You served as a poetry muse for so many (including me) several years ago when you co-founded the wonderful online community, Poetry Thursday. You continue to be an advocate for the accessibility of poetry today. Can you share a bit about what poem notes are and how we can use them as seeds for our creative endeavors?

When I started writing poetry a few years ago, I spent some time really caught up in what a poem is supposed to look like. Although I appreciate the world of academic poetry (and the poets that world has birthed), I see poetry as a tool for healing (both reading it and writing it), so the quest for a perfect poem doesn’t really interest me. I came up with the phrase “poem notes” to give myself permission to just write. A poem note might be writing what looks like a poem or it might be the beginnings of a poem or perhaps it is simply a few words linked together that one doesn’t quite yet recognize as a poem. How I wish I could give all people I encounter the gift of realizing a poet lives inside them. I think poem notes are a good place to start. One of my favorite poem note prompts that I use a few times a week is, “in this moment, I am….”

3. Like you, I grew up very close to my grandmother and have a passion for family histories. How can researching our past help us to excavate our authenticity?

Oh I love this question (hence my very long answer). There are so many stories just waiting for us to uncover them. When we sift through photos from our childhood (or the childhoods of others), we find clues that give us glimpses into brief moments that are like one paragraph in the book that is someone’s life. When I look at photos from my own childhood (I am lucky to have quite a few), I take in all the details from the green shag carpet to the spice rack in the kitchen on the wall behind me to the socks I am wearing. I have a memory of being in high school when my grandmother (my dad’s mom) gave me a box of old photos. I was so delighted to find a photo of my dad and his dad and his dad’s brother, so I framed it for him for Christmas. (My father’s father died before I was born, so I am always looking for clues to paint a picture of this man who seems like a myth at times.) I later learned that my dad had turned to my mom that Christmas afternoon and indicated that the photo captured a not so pleasant memory for him. This brings up an important piece of this excavation into the past. Not everyone will want to “go there,” so it is important to choose how far back and where you want to go. This is why I think we should bring a flashlight, so that there is not only always light in the darkness, but we can also choose what we want to shine our light on. I believe that the clues we find help us to understand why we are in this place on our paths in this moment, even when we uncover things that might be difficult or dusty or confusing. I think we must invite ourselves to seek what is real because that is where the truth sits waiting for us.

4. Your baby girl, Ellie, is a poster child for cute. How has Ellie’s presence in your life helped you to excavate your own inner artist?

Thanks for your kind words! Ellie is a sweetheart. And life has certainly changed quite a bit since her arrival. Since her birth, I have found myself spending a lot more time just being in the present moment. Trying to stay right here and not jump ahead to the “what ifs” and the “to do” list. This has meant that I have to use my time a bit more efficiently, but it also means I am pushing myself to listen to what being present can teach me. Some days this means bundling her up and going for a photo walk. Other days this means letting her play on the floor in my little room while I work on necklaces. I am trying to be softer with my expectations of myself and all that I think I “should” accomplish as an artist and writer. For example, watching Ellie discover her hands and how they work and can pick things up pushes me to remember what is real and beautiful about life and a “to do” list is never more important than that truth.

5. One of the things I really admire about you is your dedication to the art of photographic self-portraits. Your Flickr set, what is real, is a perfect example. How have you learned to quiet the negative inner voices that can sometimes come up for women when we’re shooting self-portraits?

In 2006, I spent two months doing a mirror meditation each day (I still turn to this meditation often). This meant that I spent somewhere between 30 seconds and five minutes a day standing/sitting in front of a mirror and just breathing while eye to eye with myself. When I did this, the way I looked at myself began to soften. Over time, I started to see the truths of the woman before me and this helped me to also begin to see my beauty. This has helped me when I take self-portraits as it has pushed me to seek the real and let go of the need to hide. However, what I love about taking self-portraits is that I am in control of the camera. I choose what I want to capture through the lens and what I want to share with others. This helps me soften the voices. And, (most of the time) I give myself permission to just delete photos and see them as bad photos as opposed to evidence that I am not beautiful.

6. Recently you’ve been doing some videoblogging and have talked about “your corner.”  What is your corner and how do we create our own?

Recently, I have been moved to look at what energy I put out into the world, and how I can sometimes waste the few hours of free time I have in an evening looking at everyone else’s corner in this little grey box (my laptop) instead of simply being alive in my own corner. I love the connections and beauty the Internet and blog world have provided me. At the same time, I can simply get caught up in wishing my house looked like that house or my studio had more space like this person’s studio or that I had money to buy that new printer like so-and-so or even that Ellie’s birth story was full of only good things like that mom made her experience sound. The list is endless really. I am inviting myself to remember that being my most real self and honoring the truth I know is the only way to do my best work and live my most authentic life. We create our own corner by living, really living, in it. This idea of “really living in our corner” can mean a lot of things I suppose, but to me, the most important idea is that we just show up as ourselves. Of course, this means we have to spend time getting to know ourselves. So, I think the first step is to close that laptop, lean into the quiet, and listen to yourself. I could go on and on…

7. You created Be Present Retreats and will offer several retreats this year, including Inner Excavation weekends inspired by your book. How will Inner Excavation weekends serve as a companion piece for readers of your book?

Inner Excavation weekends will be an opportunity for people to give themselves the space and time to really dig into some of the ideas and themes brought up in the book. We will play with paper and paint and color, dance inside words and find our inner poet, sit in the quiet, go on photography excursions, spend time with our senses, and how the list goes on. So often we flip through books about art and inspiration and then they sit on our shelves. These weekends will give us the chance to put the inspiration into practice.

8. Since the first Inner Excavation weekend will be held in Indiana, I must ask: how would we recognize your inner Indiana girl? What parts of Indiana reside within you no matter where you live?

I feel moved to answer this in a poem note:

I come from

a baby blue Studebaker convertible

the fourth from the top brown carpeted step on Garland Circle

rigid rows of reaching soybeans

her laughter wafting from the kitchen

a solitary singing cardinal atop the dogwood

a day so humid the wallpaper wrinkled

9. You often collaborate on projects and invited several women to contribute to your book. What are some of the best things you love about collaboration?

Collaborating really does make me so happy, and I hope to bring this into my creative life more and more as I walk this path. The shifts in perspective collaboration brings can really impact us. I love looking at different ways people see things and how they can interpret the same prompt or idea. We all bring our unique stories to each moment, and I love how just one phrase or even a word can change the way we see something. We expand as artists and people through collaboration.

10. You create soul mantra necklaces and lockets and sell them in your Etsy shop, The Little Room. If you could leave us with one soul mantra, what would it be?

I am enough.

Blog:  Be Present, Be Here

Book:  Inner Excavation

Retreats:  Be Present Retreats

Etsy:  The Little Room

Flickr:  Liz Elayne

Twitter:  @lizelayne

Shelagh Duffett

Artist and photographer Shelagh Duffett is brimming with creativity. She paints delightful folk art,  shoots gorgeous photographs and even creates her own recipes. Shelagh resides in Halifax, Nova Scotia and is mother to an almost 21 year-old daughter and guardian of a plump grey tabby named Monty. I’m so very pleased to feature her here and hope you enjoy our conversation about some of her creative endeavors.  

1.  Shelagh, when did you decide you wanted to make your living as an artist?

When I was little, my dad got the idea of using white shelving paper (which came in long rolls) for me to draw on and as a result, the most amazing murals were duly created by tiny me, landscapes which morphed into seascapes, into fairy lands into random scribblings into outer space...all manner of things. I still have one of those rolls and it amazes me when I look at it! Very inspiring. Tells me that I was always creative.

My first "real" job was as a film editor for television news and that evolved into camerawork and producing, directing, etc. for various networks and private companies. So I guess images have always been a huge component of my working life. The painting came purely by accident.

In 1999 we had an old Huckleberry Hound lunch box that I did not want. I'd heard that they were quite collectible so decided I would sell it. Our local flea market was not an option and I had heard about eBay and wanted to give it a whirl. At that time, there was only "eBay," no eBay.CA or UK or whatever, it was in its infancy. Well...the lunch box sold for $125. Hooray! I immediately scoured the house for teacups and interesting bits I could sell. In the meantime, I had been given a box of acrylic paints for my birthday and for fun had painted a quirky folky fish. One day, I was looking at it and thought, "Hmmm, eBay has an art section..." I listed it, and it sold to a person in California! I was delighted and then felt guilty that maybe the buyer thought I was a "real" Nova Scotia folk artist. I immediately painted another to assuage my guilt and that sold to someone in Toronto, the next painting went to Vancouver and the rest is history! I've been doing it ever since. It enabled me to stay home with my daughter as she grew up.

2.  Has your creative path taken any surprising turns that you didn’t anticipate when you began your artistic journey?

My art has definitely improved since I started. The old answer is true, "How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice." I think the surprising thing to me is that I am still doing it. My art is all over the world now and I have to admit that gives me a thrill.

3.  Your folk art paintings are colorful, vibrant and fun. Do you have a painting schedule you like to keep, or do you wait for the muse to strike?

I used to paint almost every day whether I wanted to or not. It was my "job" and I had to paint to earn money. The more I painted, the easier the ideas came and the process of sitting at my art table became part of my daily routine. Now that I sell prints of my work, the pressure has eased a bit and I am not painting as much as I used to. I'm also busier with blogging and market selling and doing work for other venues. I hope to get back at it in a more regular way this month.

4.  Have photography and painting always coexisted in your creative life or did you come to photography later?

Photography came first. My dad had a camera and used to develop his own pictures when he was younger. I was fascinated by the process. I bought my first camera when in my late teens and have been taking pictures ever since. I actually prefer photography over painting. I think it is the immediacy and simplicity that appeals. You compose with your eye and then just click the shutter. Painting is much harder, more time and skill involved. A bigger investment of yourself.

5.  How does photography complement your painting and/or vice versa?

I think that they are both about composition, colour and light. The way the eye travels around the image. The feeling I want to evoke. They are similar. I like graphic simple images with lovely light. 

6.  You’ve sold some of your photographs via stock photography sites. Can you share an example of how one of your photos was adapted that particularly delighted you?

Gosh, I have only come across a few examples and quite by accident. In microstock photography, once your image is sold the purchaser can do what they want within the guidelines of the license. One usage that pleased me was randomly coming across one of my pictures of junk food on Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution site ("Facts and Figures" at the bottom). It was there as an example of what not to eat but exciting nonetheless. That picture was also used in a biology textbook in Hong Kong.  An image of the Eiffel Tower was used in the Philadelphia International Flower Show's poster. One of my most popular photographs of a pair of red shoes has been used by an Italian advertising agency in their logo. That one was seen by someone else and reported to me. Really, it is rare to come across one's own microstock images in use.

7.  You write a wonderful blog, Alice in Paris Loves Art and Tea, which came in 2nd in the People’s Choice award in the 2010 Canadian Weblog Awards. As a successful artist, why is blogging important to you?

Thanks, Marilyn! Blogging is important to me because it is another creative outlet. It also helps me to spread the word about my art (marketing) and things that are important to me (championing). For example, in 2009 I read the book Three Cups of Tea and was very moved by the work done by Greg Mortensen. I decided to take action and with the help of my blog readers we raised over $1000 for his foundation. I also love the friendships I have made and the ideas I discover through blogging. I find it quite inspirational at times.

8.  The recipes you post on your blog look positively scrumptious, yet seem easy enough that even a non-cook like me could make them. You’ve even authored a cookbook, Nova Scotia Potluck. What local dish do you recommend that visitors try?

Gee, that's a tough one. I suppose fish chowder or fresh fish and chips would be what I'd recommend to any visitor coming to Nova Scotia. Depending on the season, maybe blueberry pie or lobster. We've got some great restaurants here and fabulous cooks so one would never have to worry about not eating well.

 9.  You’ve lived in Halifax most of your life and seem to have a genuine love affair with the city, as evidenced by your beautiful photographs of it. How do you maintain a fresh eye behind the camera when you’re shooting your hometown?

Really, Halifax is an easy city to take pictures of. It is beautiful. I have my camera with me most of the time and I never know when a picture will hit me on the head and say take me! Depends on light and place. One of those weird things, images jump out at me unexpectedly.

10. Recently you’ve sold your artwork at Halifax Seaport Market. What have you enjoyed about the farmers market experience?

The Halifax Seaport Market is a wonderful ecologically constructed building right on the harbour and it is filled with light. I have only just started selling there and so far I am enjoying it. I think the location makes a difference; I don't think I could be selling if I was in a dark enclosed space. One thing have to say about the experience is that it is quite different to be talking to customers face to face rather then via an internet connection. Much nicer really. I have enjoyed the people buying and those just chatting and the vendors as well. Working from home is a bit isolating. The internet helps with that but nothing can compare to real humans.

11. I always love to see your beautiful travel photography. Is there one destination you’d like to visit in 2011? What do you envision photographing once you’re there? 

Marilyn, I have no plans for this year, yet...but I would LOVE to walk the Camino de Compostela de Santiago...have wanted to do it for YEARS. Something about a long meandering walk meeting people from all areas of life and different countries, seeing Spain and living simply for a few weeks really appeals to me. Having just said that, New York appeals too.  :)

Thank you to Shelagh for such a delightful interview!

Congratulations to Mari, our random commenter winner, who will receive a free registration in Shelagh's photography e-course, Sensational Snap Society. Thank you to all of the commenters! And thank you, Shelagh!

Blog:  Alice in Paris Loves Art and Tea

Photography e-course:  Sensational Snap Society

Paintings:  Alice in Paris at Etsy

Photography:  Broomhill Pictures at Etsy

Facebook:  Shelagh Duffett

Twitter:  @AliceinParis

Linda Davick

When I think of illustrator and animator Linda Davick, two things immediately come to mind:  color and creativity. I first discovered Linda when Andrea Scher featured one of Linda's illustrations at Superhero Journal four years ago. It was titled “anatomy of a superhero necklace” and since i owned one, too, and was tickled by Linda's illustration (see it here at her blog), I couldn’t click over to her blog fast enough. I’ve been reading there ever since. Linda sees the world in such a creatively colorful way. You know how sometimes you meet people who can make the most ordinary, mundane details come to life in unusual ways? That’s Linda. I’m so happy she agreed to be interviewed because her blog is one of my favorite happy places to visit.

1.  Let’s start with geography. What compels a woman in Tennessee to move to San Francisco?

I'm definitely a Tennessean. But Tom and I had been vacationing in Northern California for years. You know how it is: when you go some place you love for a vacation you always wonder what it would be like to live there. Twelve years ago we both had a break in our businesses and decided that it was now or never. 

For me it was an excruciatingly hard move and I'd never do it again. We lived like animals for two years! But after therapy, marriage counseling, meditation, medication, and daily walks on the beach–after five years I was extremely glad we made the change.

I remember living in Tennessee and thinking at dinner time, "If we lived in San Francisco we'd be able to order any kind of delicious, inexpensive takeout every single night."

2.  When did you know you wanted to be an illustrator?  Did you show an early aptitude for it?

I showed an early desire to draw. If there wasn't a piece of paper at hand, I drew on books and clothes and furniture. I couldn't stop myself and neither could my parents. Finally my dad had an idea. He bought a gallon of chalkboard paint and made one whole wall of my bedroom into a chalkboard.

3.  How did you make the leap from illustration to animation? Do you have formal training in animation or are you self-taught? If the latter, can you share a little with us about your learning process?

Ten years ago Amazon started a whole division of e-cards. They hired me to do a couple of cards for them. Then suddenly they decided they wanted the cards to be animated! I ended up downloading a free program called Gif-Builder. I used that for years and loved it. Each card had to be under 50k–and they didn't use Flash–so planning each card so that the file would be so tiny was a feat in itself. I ended up doing over 200 animated cards for them. 

Later I went to College of Marin to learn Flash. I also got to know the great animator Sally Cruikshank, who offered her help at every turn.

A simply fantastic resource for learning almost any software–animation included–is lynda.com. It's $25 a month–no strings attached–and whenever I hit a snag I can go over there and find a clear tutorial.

4.  I love seeing the photos on your blog that document your daily beach walks and the lovely and quirky things you collect on those walks. Do you think that your geographic location near the beach impacts your creative process? If so, how?

The ocean is mysterious and wonderful–scary, too. It throws up little treasures every day. It looks different and acts different every day. It compels me always to have my camera in my pocket because there's always something amazing to be captured. Buying a digital point n' shoot camera is what led to my having a blog.

Being near the beach makes it a tiny bit easier to walk or jog. (Believe me, it's never easy to leave my computer. I could plant myself in front of it and be content never to leave.) Most people find walking on the beach to be a kind of meditation. When I'm out there, I'm multi-tasking in the best and worst way. I'll be jogging, but at the same time I'm on the lookout for photos, and at the same time I'm beach combing–trying to fill my pockets with beach glass. I'm also hooked up to Pandora. Also, it's a time for socializing: you know that spark of adrenaline you get when somebody you like appears, running toward you from out of the fog and you stop for a second and say hello.

When I get home from the beach I feel like my camera is a little box of treasures waiting to be opened. Before uploading the photos, I'll shoot a picture of the little things I've found that day. Maybe I'll have heard an Albert Collins song I didn't know. I think all of those things that happen out there feed my creativity like crazy.

5.  Linda, you’ve created the illustrations for several published children’s books. What do you enjoy most about creating illustrations for children?

I get to be the boss of everybody. I'm the architect and the interior designer and I can make everyone look and dress the way I want them to. I can create the food and games and toys. In the case of the four holiday books I've illustrated, I can let all my personalities out–one in each of the ten kids. (The ten kids live in a purple apartment building with their cat. Each kid has his own apartment and no adults are allowed to live there.) I get to create a whole little universe and make it just the way I like it.

6.  One of my favorite things on your website is Therapy, where you ask people to “Find Yourself.” What inspired you to create all of those wonderful, animated icons?

I've always been fascinated by charts and graphs. I remember seeing the Periodic Table of Elements in junior high and thinking it was so funny and mysterious. I also think personality is funny and mysterious. I thought it would be nice to put the two together and make a kind of Periodic Table of Personalities. Naturally the personalities morphed into personality disorders, and I wanted each character to move in a way that would describe his particular disorder.

7.  I get a vicarious thrill when I read that you’ve attended a museum or gallery exhibit. What have been some of your favorite exhibits of 2010?

The shows that come to mind are the Wayne Thiebaud show in San Jose, the Maira Kalman show, a tiny show of Kenneth Patchen's work at the de Young, and of course the two big Impressionism shows there.

But my most enlivening experiences are always the shows at Creativity Explored. That's the gallery in the Mission that shows work made by developmentally disabled artists, who are somehow way ahead of everyone else when it comes to making art. 

I went to their December opening two weeks ago. The whole place was bursting with energy. The openings at CE are usually as packed as the Impressionism shows were; you practically have to elbow your way over to see the next painting or print or ceramic piece that catches your eye. The art is unguarded–it comes out plain and straightforward. When an object is created with such honesty it has a good chance of turning out to be an exquisite piece.

8. As a self-employed woman who works from home, what’s one tip you use to keep your workday on track?

I have to trick myself every step of the way, starting with the placement of the coffee filter the night before just to make getting started one tiny bit easier. 

For me, what's harder than keeping on track is simply getting started. Even when I'm working on the best project in the world there's a hesitancy to start. Maybe because once I actually do get started, I "go under" and am lost to this world. That phenomenon can make it easy to keep on track, but there is always something in me that fights against getting started and stepping over into the other realm, even if it's a wonderful realm. Does anybody have a tip for me that can help me to get started?

As for keeping my workday on track once I've gotten started, noise-blocking headphones help. My husband's studio happens to be right on the other side of the door–and unlike me, his main mode of communication is the telephone. 

I guess my one somewhat sorry tip for staying on track is keeping a list. A list made the night before, and added to even before I get out of bed. A list with boxes before each task so you can have the pleasure of checking off the boxes. And if you forget to put something on your list and do it anyway, there's no law against adding the task to your list after the fact so you can have the joy of marking it off.

Thank you to Linda for a wonderful interview. Her creative worldview always inspires and delights me.

Linda Davick is an illustrator and animator. Her first illustrated book, 10 Trick-or-Treaters (2005 Random House, by Janet Schulman) was a New York Times best seller. Her work has been published in Communication Arts and Print Magazine. She lives and works in San Francisco.

Website:  Linda Davick

Blog:  Linda Davick

Books:  Random House

 

Irene Nam

I don’t remember how I initially crossed paths with Irene Nam, I just know that over the years she has become one of my true soul sisters. She’s kind, thoughtful, loving, supportive and generous. She’s a very talented photographer, writer and teacher who lives in Paris. We talked about being multilingual, the joys of photography, collaborative communities and how one small act can transform lives. Irene is a beautiful soul and I’m so very pleased to interview her here.

1. When we converse, I’m always struck by how very fluent you are in English. I’m curious—did you study it in school or did you learn it on your own? And if it was the latter, what were your methods?

My method? Spending all my weekends at the theatre growing up and watching American movies with subtitles and not dubbed in French!

I first studied English formally in school when I was 12. I was already fluent in both French and Korean (Irene is the daughter of Korean parents and was born in France), so my brain was used to switching back and forth from one language to another. Learning English was easy for me and it quickly became my favorite subject in school.

2. This year you launched Irene Nam Kids Life Photography. I can imagine what some of the challenges might be when you’re shooting children, but what has been one of the unexpected joys?

Children are playful, they’re fully present and engaged, they’re not self-conscious and they don’t pretend. I always feel incredibly blessed to be given the opportunity to capture a moment in their lives, as fleeting as it might be and no matter how wiped out I am afterwards.

Last summer I photographed a little boy named Kyllian who is autistic. He ignored me during the whole session. He didn’t listen to me, make eye contact or interact with me. But there were moments where I felt like he was gently allowing me in and we shared something. I still don’t know what it is. But it touched me deeply.

3. You’re a contributing author at Shutter Sisters, a wonderful online photography community (which is celebrating its three-year anniversary). For those of us who love photography but might be intimidated at the thought of joining a community of well-established photographers (okay, me!), what have you found to be the benefits of being part of a collaborative photoblogging community?

I wasn’t a professional photographer when I first joined Shutter Sisters three years ago, so I certainly understand why some people might be intimidated at the thought of joining our community, or any collaborative photoblogging community.

Joining Shutter Sisters has been a turning point in my life, not only because it offered me opportunities to get published and collaborate on wonderful photography projects, but mostly because being surrounded by like-minded individuals who share the same passion, doubts and fears helps me accept and approve of exactly who I am. And this is what I love most about this job, and inspires me to work harder every day.

4. I recently completed your 4-week online photography course, Simple Soulful Photography. One of the things I really loved about your course was that you incorporated so many gentle life lessons and suggestions. It reminded me that photography is often practiced even when we don’t have a camera in hand. What do you love about teaching photography?

I believe in sharing what you have and giving what you can. And I’m passionate about it, about helping people discover what they can do with their cameras, about inspiring them to grow creatively, to do what they love and live authentic and fulfilling lives.

5. I know you’re a passionate advocate of Polaroid photography. For those of us who don’t own Polaroid cameras, how can we incorporate some of the beauty specific to Polaroid into our point-and-shoot lives?

Just imagine that you have only 10 takes in your camera, no more. You will immediately slow down, become more thoughtful about what you choose to shoot and mindful of details like light, colors and shapes around you.

6. Irene, you wear so many hats--wife, mother, photographer, writer, teacher. As mother to 8-year-old twin boys, how do you create balance in your life so that both your family and creative needs get met?

I don’t. It’s just as simple as that. Balance is not something that I’m striving to achieve (although I’ve tried, believe me). Instead I wake up every morning and do the very best I can.

A few years ago I made the personal decision that my family is my priority. It means that I have to create a work routine around school schedules, activities and doctor appointments, turn down interesting projects sometimes and miss important work-related events.

But to my own surprise, and even though some days are definitely more challenging than others, I’m very much at peace with the decision I’ve made, regularly doing things that feed my passions, and full of gratitude for the life that I have.

7. You recently attended a conference in Amsterdam that you shared with me touched you deeply. Can you tell us a bit about that conference and what you took away from it? What one thing would you ask each of us to do in response to what you learned there?

The European Summit for Global Transformation is an annual event where activists, social entrepreneurs and change-makers from all around the world gather for a high-impact weekend. My experience there was humbling and transformative. I’ve met wonderful people whose work and dedication have changed the way I think and perceive things.

I am deeply committed to making a difference in children’s lives, and my workshop supports several non-profit organizations and projects like Blink Now Foundation and Wrap Up Africa that help improve and sustain the quality of life, education and health of children in under-developed and developing countries.

If I could ask one thing from your readers it would be to consider supporting these organizations, or any organization that resonates with their spirit. And to remember that one small act can change a life.

Irene has created a beautiful 2011 calendar featuring her photography. It's a FREE download and you can get yours here.

You can find her at Twitter here.

THANK YOU to Irene for an inspiring interview!

Irene Nam is a writer, Paris-based Polaroid and child/family photographer and creator of the Simple Soulful Photography workshop. She is the co-author of the book Expressive Photography: The Shutter Sisters’ Guide to Shooting from the Heart and her photos are in the upcoming exhibition “Facing The Impossible” at The Impossible Project’s New York gallery store.