By Tricia Lunt, English Faculty
“You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club”
I appreciate all the verbs associated with inspiration: get inspired, be inspired, stay inspired, to inspire.
As an educator, I require a steady supply of inspiration, for my students and myself. Like the heliotrope sunflower, I bend toward inspiration, eager to get closer.
Naturally, reading offers endless marvels. I just started a fascinating book, one that came my way via a recommendation from another artist constantly seeking inspiration, Austin Kleon.
“Black Out Poem,” by Austin Kleon (with reflection of Samantha)
I follow Kleon’s blog and have read and admired his books, Steal Like an Artist and Show Your Work. Quite happily, I also own a piece of his original art work, a prized possession bought for a song. One of his “Blackout Poems” hangs in my living room, perpetually intriguing. Most of my guests admire it, though a police officer—called to respond to a break in—did not seem to care for it. My niece Samantha, who recently visited, apparently saw something of herself in its expression of the desire for impetuous recklessness.
The book is called Daily Rituals, an expansion of a blog by Mason Currey (a blog becoming a book: intriguing). In it, Currey outlines the day-to-day schedules of some of the most revered artists and thinkers.
I am an inveterate scheduler myself, keeping no fewer than four calendars. A friend once confessed he had three. I said, “Sounds like you forgot to count the one in the kitchen!”
How reassuring to be reminded all people who accomplished great things were still, fundamentally, people, meaning they ate breakfast and had to bathe and dress and visit their mom. The quotidian increases unity; we all must live day to day.
Daily Rituals underscores the importance of reserving space on the calendar for artistic endeavors, whether writing or any other form of self-expression. The book also reveals the crucial importance of consistency for all who succeed in creating meaningful work (artistic or otherwise). The need for a productive routine ought to be reinforced.
Artists want to work; they want to devote time to their craft, often to the detriment of everything else. A musician friend of mine pointed out that I’d never play guitar really well because I have too far many friends and social obligations. When it comes to music, I really am best left as an enthusiast.
We can all act as conduits for inspiration, perpetually sharing new discoveries. I marvel at people’s abilities, particularly the stamina and determination of innovators who worked in and through difficult circumstances.
I contemplate the city of Chicago, my home, overflowing with imagination. When I take a moment to admire my city, from out on the lake especially, looking back at the spectacular skyline filled with skyscrapers of every silhouette, I reflect upon its hidden beauty: all of it was made by people: architects, engineers, designers, craftsmen, artists and laborers constantly creating for the past two hundred years.
Given the time and skills and resources and determination, people can build remarkable, stunning, incredible things. The shared human experience that infuses life and art ought to amazes us all.
Look closely, and creativity reveals itself to be a fundamental part of everyday life; admire the perfectly set table and consider who laid your place with such care, perhaps it was even you.
Take the time each day to be inspired, and inspire.
The Flâneur's Turtle 