Week 1 - Task #6

Because we agreed to complete one task publicly, in our blogs, I chose to offer task #6. It is less personal and volatile than some of the others, and it may be the most revelatory one for me this week. The task is to name 3 people in my life who were champions of my creative self-worth. This was a tough one and when I reread what I wrote at first, I see that I either was not inspired at the time I wrote it, or that I have precious few people in my life whom I could call champions.

1. The first to come to mind was my senior year high school English teacher (I can't even recall the woman's name) who coerced me into speaking at our class commencement. (Our democratic school system did not rank students--there was no valedictorian.) I had not yet learned the power of "no" and tried every mealy-mouthed way I could think of to dissuade her. She probably smelled my fear and ran me to ground. Her reason for choosing me was that she thought I was a promising writer (public speaking is NOT the same thing). In the end I gave a horrible speech, terrified and boring, in front of 600 graduates and their poor guests. But what I took from the experience besides surviving public humiliation, was the first-ever affirmation by "a professional" that I had a greater-than-average ability to write. I went on to honors English in college, and though I never did anything with it professionally, I continue to work at improving my skill. I have a confidence in my ability to communicate with the written word, that probably was born from that nameless teacher's relentless refusal hear me say "no!"

2. The second person who came to mind was the only mother-in-law I ever had. We had a turbulent 35-year relationship that began when I was only 15, and didn't really resolve itself until I divorced her son (I think we ceased struggling over him). She was wildly intelligent, mercurial in temperament, extremely gifted musically and poetically, with a great sense of humor. I miss her every day of my life. She was indeed my champion in every creative endeavor, the most creative being the rearing of my two children. She encouraged my writing to the point of badgering me, and we constantly volleyed ideas between us. She believed in "flowers for the living," and I've always tried to emulate her ease in offering genuine compliments and tributes.

3. Oddly, my father. He was never one to make specific encouragements, didn't really understand much about me. But I never doubted for a minute that he was proud of me, and he always gave me a clear and unspoken message that I could do whatever I made up my mind to do.

These were somewhat weak choices, I felt, when I reviewed them this week. Julia Cameron says as we become more thoughtful about these tasks (open floodgates) we will remember more and more things, and last night I did just that. I have to add:

4. My stepfather, who was the finest man I ever knew. He was an Episcopal priest, the epitome of charity and goodness of spirit. He saw gifts in people that others might not see. He appreciated anything I ever did, but was especially encouraging of my writing. He was not a flatterer and he was an eloquent writer himself, so I took his support to heart. He often urged me to write a novel, and in the last couple of years when he was so ill and confused, he always and repeatedly asked me, "Have you started that novel yet?" His opinion of me mattered a great deal, even though he did not become my stepfather until after I was a divorced mother of two. I miss him terribly too.

What struck me as I thought of him last night is that I think I may have sparked creativity in HIM! 20+ years ago, knowing he had some modest skills as a carpenter, I asked him if he thought he could build a dollhouse for my younger daughter for Christmas. It proved to be the beginning of a long and dedicated interest, joined in by my mother, in building dollhouses and minature room boxes. Originally trained as an engineer, I think the technical aspects appealed to him, but his ability extended to artistic expression.

To be inspired to artistry and/or creativity by another is a wonderful gift. But maybe to be able to inspire it in others is an even better gift. It's lovely to think I fostered creativity in another artist. Thank you, dear John.

(PS I haven't lost sight of the fact this is a group of quilters. I believe we can agree that artistic ability wears many hats--it's all interpretive--and it was not until late in my life my creativity took the turn to sewing.)