Being in the Moment, Really

Being in the moment has become almost a catch-phrase of hipness. There is a competitive zeal among social media posters to show how in-the-moment they are.

From The Problem With Multitasking.

It makes me chuckle when being in the moment hits the wall with the eagerness to multi-task. Text messages are sent with the expectation that you will stop doing whatever you are doing (including teaching or driving) and answer the text. Last week a client chided me for not getting back fast enough. When I explained that I was teaching–standing in front of a classroom teaching–and returned her text at break, she said it wasn’t fast enough. “I expect more from my vendors,” she said. The only comfort I could offer her was the same level of concentration and attention would be hers when I was working with her.

It always surprised me when my coaching clients read their emails or check Facebook during their coaching session. There’s been enough research done to make me sure that reading Facebook takes up most of your attention and distracts you from coaching.

Being in the moment allows you to focus on one thing exclusively. Deeply. Thoroughly. Multi-tasking (which really doesn’t exist, we task switch, paying attention to one thing at a time, and switching back and forth) seems like a much more attractive skill when we are waiting in line or waiting for someone to pay attention to our needs.

Yes, there have been some studies that show that creativity is enhanced when creative people make blender-pulses of thought over similar circumstances that gave different results and picking experiences that coincide with what you are working on. That doesn’t sound like multi-tasking to me, that sounds like lateral thinking about a single problem. Staying in the moment.

Still, when the doctor is finally in your room dealing with your paper-clad self, you want all the brain power focused on you. You wouldn’t take kindly to the doctor checking emails and texts while you are talking about your suppurating wound.

In yoga class, I noticed a woman who was checking her texts between downward facing dog and child pose. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of yoga?

Be a proud single-tasker. Take the time to be and stay in the moment till the thought is done. Re-capture the ability to concentrate on one thing at a time for more than five minutes at a time. Your brain will thank you for it. (And so will your coach).

--Quinn McDonald was never a good multi-tasker, and always was horrible at collating anything.

Saturday Creative Love

No-fat potato chip.

Creativity can come in many styles, including cooking. Potato chips are not on any of my menus anymore, until Cooking Man made me some. He sliced washed, raw potatoes on a mandolin, soaked them in cold water, spread them on a paper towel, and cooked them in the microwave. Presto, amazing potato chips! No fat, low calorie and even low carb, as long as I don’t eat a bag full. He got the recipe from another blog, and am I glad! Here is an extra:  low-carb, gluten-free chewy almond bars. I’ve made them twice and they are delish!

Joshua Katz noticed that even though we have cable TV and hear each others languages, we in the U.S. still have different words for the same thing and different pronunciations. So he made 22 maps for different words pronounced different ways. They are fascinating to look at, particularly if you feel strongly about how the word “caramel” is pronounced.

Paddi McDonnell did an article on typographic art. I love typographic art–the subtlety, the cleverness. The portraits (scroll down on the link) are really well done.

BrussPup’s  YouTube channel is a mix of art and sound. He sprinkles sand onto a metal plate and connects it to a speaker that plays various frequencies. The sand vibrates and moves to areas of no frequency (so no shaking) and fascinating patterns are formed.

Mircea Popescu does linocuts. That’s sort of like saying that Bach wrote some music. Her linocuts are so complicated, it is difficult to imagine how she does them, and how she keeps track of the layers. Or the lines.

Have a creative weekend!

–Quinn McDonald is chief curiosity officer of QuinnCreative.

On My Workdesk . . .

This gallery contains 6 photos.

Note: Thanks for the 76 percent of readers who would read a newsletter. Another 11 percent said “It depends if I like it.”  So, it looks like I’ll be starting a newsletter soon. Stay tuned–I have to create a space … Continue reading →

Bark Paper

The sycamores are losing their bark. Arizona Sycamores, which grow in the Sky Island area South of Tucson, will grow in Phoenix if they get enough water. And the stand I walk through every morning is well watered and cared for.

In the early summer, the bark of the sycamore splits and the tree looks old and damaged for a few weeks.

The bark of the tree lifts up, and the young bark underneath hardens. Once the bark underneath is ready to act as the tree’s skin, the top bark flakes off.

For someone from the East Coast, who is used to Birch trees, the sycamore shedding is very different. The bark is stiff and thicker than birch bark, and much more likely to split.

The newer bark is smooth and very pale, and the trees suddenly look taller and more elegant.

You can see both kinds of bark on one tree.

The bark was lying around on the lawn, so I picked some up and took it home.

I soaked one piece to make it pliable, then, once I could bend it and flatten it out, it went under the iron to heat, dry and flatten it. Then into the book press to keep it flat. It came out of the book press flat and smooth enough to write on.

You can see the difference in flatness and smoothness between the treated piece on top and the bark the way it was on the ground, bottom.

“What we are never changes, but who we are never stops changing. –Gil Grissom. The bark is smooth enough to write on, but it’s brittle. I tried to pierce holes in it to see if it could be stitched, but it’s too brittle.

Birch bark, peeled into layers.

Birch bark, on the other hand, is pliable and thin, and can be stitched. Birch bark also has the dark lines on it. Birch trees aren’t native to Arizona, they need a lot more water than even Northern Arizona has. Birch bark can be used as paper without any more treatment and has been used as paper in both India and Russia.

For now, the sycamore bark will have to do as thick and inflexible writing slabs. Not as nice as Birch, but with rustic appeal.

—Quinn McDonald is a naturalist and a journalist. No surprise she’s writing on tree bark.

Tips, Quotes, Ideas

On this morning’s walk, I photographed some “alien alphabets” –marks on the street left by the utility company. The name needs to change. In Arizona, “alien” is not a little green humanoid from outer space, it’s a slur for people not born here. On the same walk, I added other alphabet figures  based on shapes–gates, grates, tree limbs. No new name yet, but a lot of exploration ahead.

You probably have a file of quotes someplace on your computer. Me, too. I got a gift of a bunch of quotes from Traci Paxton Johnson, and added to it. Today, I noticed I had 27 pages of quotes. Printing them out (back and front of the pag, of course) and storing them in the studio for future use (I have that alphabet to try out) made sense. So did sharing some of the quotes that slid by on the screen on the way to the printer:

“Vision without action is a daydream. Action without vision is a nightmare.” –Japanese proverb

“Fear is the natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.” –Pema Chodron

“If you think you are too small to have an impact, try going to sleep with a mosquito in the room.” –14th Dalai Lama

“In the end, we remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” –Martin Luther King

“Patience is not about how long you can wait, but how well you behav while you’re waiting.” –Buddhist Bootcamp

Tip: If you live in a hot climate and have sliding doors, don’t grease them with oil. The heat degrades it and makes it stickier. And it collects cat hair.  Instead, rub the runners with plain candle wax. Works wonders.

Tip: Tired of drinking water all day long? Gather up some stray tea bags, brew them and make a blended ice tea. Choose a mix of fruit flavors and green tea–rose hips, hibiscus, mango, blackberry, and green tea. A great refreshing drink. No calories, lots of flavor, lots of antioxidants.

Tip: Have blank pages at the end of your journal? Fill them with an index–using page numbers or dated pages, so you can flip to the back and know what’s in each journal. Or use the back pages to test colors of new inks, paints, or pencils.

–Quinn McDonald is switching to summer hours, not because she likes getting up at 4:30 a.m., but because the sun rises early and so do the cats.

 

 

 

Newsletters: Worth Considering? (Plus Giveaway)

Yes, I’ve had a newsletter. Twice. Each time, it became too unwieldy to manage. Too much content. When I switched from newsletter to blog (which seemed sensible at the time), I deleted the newsletter address list, after I invited everyone over to the blog.

That left me with, umm, no announcement or contact list. Sure, the blog mentions my classes, but if you ask “Really? Where? ” you aren’t alone. The Workshops page on this blog is often overlooked. And updating it often happens only after I announce something on the blog. (See my upcoming demos at Arizona Art Supply).

I can’t really expect people who are waiting for me to announce the poetry-writing class to read the blog every day to see when it will run (Late July, early August start) or to check the Workshop page. A newsletter would be a great way to do that.  I am grateful to everyone who is signed up to the blog, and to everyone who tells me they start their day reading the blog. Realistically, though, a lot of people check in once a week, Or once a month.

So here is the question: Should I start a once-every-two-week newsletter? Or are newsletters passe? (I don’t want to create a business Facebook page. Yet)

More information:

• The newsletter would list my classes and demos, in person and online, local to me or local to you.
• It could contain a few other items not in this blog–a link to a clever tutorial (not necessarily mine), a book suggestion (creativity-related, including books I quit reading or didn’t enjoy), or a creative-life tip or quote from my reading.  It would be short (not like my blogs, I know).
• You’d be able to subscribe and unsubscribe anytime you wanted (you’ll have to unsubscribe from the same email you subscribed with). No questions asked.
• I’ll start small, just an email list I handle myself. No cookies, no tracking, no selling or renting your name. I have enough trouble managing my time.

Leave a comment if you have ideas, suggestions, or thoughts about a newsletter.

Giveaway

Oh, and of course there will be a drawing for leaving a comment and taking the poll:  a copy of Creating Time, by Marney  Makridakis. The subtitle is “Using Creativity to Reinvent the Clock and Reclaim Your Life.” You can read my earlier review here.

Note: Thanks for the 76 percent of readers who would read a newsletter. Another 11 percent said “It depends if I like it.”  So, it looks like I’ll be starting a newsletter soon. Stay tuned–I have to create a space to sign up and get the first copy together. Thanks for voting!  Barbara I is the winner of Marney’s book!

–Quinn McDonald is curious, again.

Lost in the Forest: A Painted Collage

Today was a prime-the-pump day: I spent all day in an art class at Arizona Art Supply in Phoenix. Lauren Griggs IV was teaching Arboles de Papel (Trees of Paper), the full class of the demo I had seen him do several times at the Women’s Expo several weeks ago. Lauren is the manager of the Scottsdale store, and a force field of energy.

The class was the kind I’m fond of–a bit more expensive, but everything is provided

Acrylic on tissue and canvas, by Lauren Griggs IV. This was the sample for the class. If you look closely, you can see the tissue texture.

the  36″ wide x 24″ high canvas, three tubes of acrylic paint, brushes, water containers–everything. And to spoil us further, Kevin came along as assistant. It was really great to have someone who helped carry canvases outside to dry, fetched water, made tape appear. Bliss!

We started out by coating portions of the canvas with Liquitex gloss medium, and, while the medium was still wet, applying tissue paper. We pressed folds into the tissue so the wrinkles run in the direction of the planned work.

Once it was dry, we coated the entire piece in gesso, making sure the folds got gessoed down. Lots of texture, and it took a long time for this layer to dry.

The next step was to tear pieces of blue painter’s tape and applied them to the canvas, grouping the lines to look like trees. This is the hard part, as you are working with positive and negative space. The two small pieces of tape on the right and left margins helped me establish a horizon line.

Once the tape was rubbed into place, we began mixing and applying color. No surprise to anyone, I chose to do a monochromatic piece, and applied a coat of warm gray to the middle section. My trees were going to be a stand of aspen after a snowstorm. Then the fun began. I applied a mix of Payne’s Gray (both Grumbacher, which is more charcoal and Golden’s, which has blue in it), Blue Violet and Ultramarine blue. As soon as the paint was applied, you squirted it with water, to allow the paint to run and create more texture. We worked from top to bottom, encouraging runs and dribbles.

We then broke for lunch, while the work dried.

Once we touched up the paint, we pulled the tape off. The paint has leaked under the folds of the tissue and tape, creating interesting tree trunk effects. Unfortunately, some of my tissue came off as well. Fixes were in order.  This stage shows half the tape removed.

We were now well into the afternoon. I’ve never worked this big and it felt like I had to paint a whole, real forest! I glued down torn tissue with gesso, smearing it with a wet towel. (An art technique called Frottage). We added detail along the tree edges, created more detailed bark, and added some shadows. I also added some small specks of orange in the darkest section to create depth.

And the painting was done, ready to go home. It was a wonderful way to spend a 106-degree day here in Phoenix!

Here is the finished work of two other people in class. Each painting was so very different. And while the person who did the work on the left claimed she wasn’t creative, her finished piece proves otherwise.

Thanks to Lauren and Kevin for helping us get great results!

—Quinn McDonald is proud that she did her first really big painting at Arizona Art Supply where she will begin teaching next month!

 

Creative Weekend Boost

Some interesting creative ideas on the intertubes:

Not nearly as weird what you are thinking, it’s a colored pencil drawing of chewing gum.

Julia Randallis a colored-pencil artist. Having taken colored pencil classes, I think it’s a beautiful medium, but very, very difficult to get right. Randall does. In this beautiful collection, she draws. . . bubble gum. In different colors and at different stages of use. It’s funny and weird and somehow lovely.

Looking closely at the work, the incredible patience needed to be a successful colored pencil artist becomes obvious.

Not into gum? She also has a series called Decoys, on the dangers of genetically modified plants.

Eric Cahan’s painting. This is a sunset.

David Emitt Adams is a photographer. It’s always fascinating to find someone who has a clear vision of something totally different. Adams does. In Conversations with History, He finds old cans in the Arizona desert, then prints desert photographs on them. “I use these objects to speak of human involvement with this landscape and create images on their surfaces through a labor-intensive 19th century photographic process known as wet-plate collodion,” Adams said on his site.

What? iPhone oil paintings? Not what you think. If you’ve talked on the phone and then discovered oil and makeup on your screen, you are in tune with  JK Keller’s vision. He wipes his face with an iPhone, and then uses them to create screen art. To advance the show, look for the green triangles on the center, outer edges of the page frame.

Eric Cahan is a minimalist. His paintings are all either dawn or sky. He identifies them only with time. Somehow, no more is needed.

Have a creatively exciting weekend!

Summer Comes to Phoenix

While the rest of the country is busy settling into a much-anticipated summer; Australia (along with parts of Africa, New Zealand, Brazil and Argentina) are heading toward winter. Phoenix, however, is set on “broil.” The local joke is that Phoenix is where hell spends the summer.

For the first time in five years, one of the cacti put out a bloom this year.

Snow birds (mostly Midwesterners, Canadians and Germans who bought houses here when the prices were in the dirt) head home. The huge RVs that are parked on residential streets and serve as winter in-law apartments vanish. Suddenly, those of us who stay can get a reservation at any restaurant. Movie lines are short enough so you have a chance at staying alive while you wait to buy a ticket to a cool place. Parking places open up.

The blossom lasts one night. Until it bloomed, I had no idea the cactus is an organ pipe cactus, dangerously far North for winter survival

And then, it is summer in Phoenix. So hot you bring a tote bag with you to carry your CDs, GPS units and anything plastic (handcream, phone chargers) into stores with you. They won’t last long if you leave them in the car. Windshields explode out of their frames, shattered by the temperature difference between air conditioning on high and the direct sun. Between the two of us, we’ve gone through five windshields in five years.

My favorite plants to watch are the giant agaves that bloom just once in their lifetime, so they make it worth the effort.

They start by sending up a long stalk, anywhere from 10 to 20 feet (3 to 6 meters) tall. The stalk is nubby, and then, almost overnight, it is covered in yellow blossoms.

And I do mean covered. In yellow blossoms.

The stalk and blossoms stay beautifully in bloom for two to three weeks, feeding bees, hummingbirds, and fruit-eating bats at night. And then, before they die, they sprout the next generation up and down the enormous stalk. The tender shoots drop off, complete with the long “hairs” you see. Birds use the hairs as nesting material, and the agave goes with it, slowly growing. Other plantlets hitch a ride on coyotes or bobcats and are scattered into the ground, where they set root. Some just drop and tumble into a new home.

The original plant dies. Even that is an elegant sunburst of neutral colors. Here in the desert, there are few plants that bloom in summer. It’s our gray season, our stormy, humid seasons. We get Monsoon Rain storms that bring us half a year’s worth of rain in eight weeks. We get dust storms. Each summer several tourists die while hiking because they don’t believe the heat or the power of the heat. When it’s 117 degrees F (47 degrees C) you don’t want to be exerting yourself. So we estivate. Estivating is the summer version of hibernating.

We stay inside, we swim in too-hot pools, and we wait for September. At night, when you swim in the pool, your face can feel both the coolness of the night sky and the warmth of the heat radiating from the brick wall. A small gift in the hot season.

A full moon hangs in the palm tree

-–Quinn McDonald waits for summer with a sadness she discovered only in this climate.

Creativity: Light and Dark

The guy looked like Grizzly Adams without the smile, but complete with suspenders and wild beard and hair. I worked in a very conservative company as the marketing  VP of writing, and he was a freelancer, hired for his creativity by my boss, who found the non-corporate look exotic on an outsider.

Sometimes creativity discovers new worlds, sometimes creativity discovers empty galaxies. Photo credit: JimKSter

Getting to the point, I loathed him. He sent in assignments on his own time schedule, often handing work directly to my boss, so I didn’t know it had arrived.  He  made fun of me for sticking to a schedule. He told huge tales (none of them verifiable) of amazing deeds in the service of his country,  implying shadowy connections to black helicopters and secret missions. He had scars to show, both physical and psychological. Frankly, to me, the scar looked like a Sunday morning bagel cutting accident. He insisted it was from hand-to-hand combat is a dangerous country where even the air was deadly.

He got a lot of attention for being “creative.” His bad behavior and poor social skills didn’t matter because he saved my boss from daily tedium. For my boss, relief  balanced the havoc wreaked on every project he touched–an the clean-up was my job. All-nighters to create salvageable content  meant little to my boss, who waved to me as she went home at 5 p.m. With wide eyes, she re-told stories of how the creative genius slept, as he claimed, on the floor with a knife under his pillow. War scars, you know.

My boss adored him and slyly suggested I was jealous. Maybe. They paid him a lot more than they paid me. In more than one case I said, “Please let me hire someone who is not quite as eccentric and a lot more reliable.” It never happened. He gave creativity a bad name. He’s long out of my life, but the incident reminded me: there is a dark side of creativity. And it’s not always bad or weird.

Creativity is often describes as a light, cheerful gift. Not always.  Mondo Guerra (Season 8 of Project Runway) nailed it when he publicly  said “I feel like this gift and talent is a curse to me sometimes.” In a corporate setting, creativity can easily be considered a mental aberration by a supervisor. Creatives can feel like outcasts in an environment where creativity is directly related to ROI.

Creativity has deep roots in unhappiness with the status quo. With willingness to go against the grain. With certainty of purpose. With the idea that the creative ideas are better than what exists now. That’s tough when your culture values individuality only if it fits in with what already exists.

Creativity has roots in “other-ness.” There’s a lot of responsibility attached to it.  While risking reputation for an uncertain result, the creative has to explain how the result is useful and why the risk is worthwhile. And, of course, sometimes the creative is wrong, and the risk taken can make the job vanish.

Creativity is absolutely how change comes into the world, but it is not the preternaturally cheery, holy, shamanic gift it’s painted to be. It has a dark, difficult, mean side, and that needs to be honored, too. It’s not for everyone or every place. When you choose the light, you choose the dark. One does not exist without the other. In fact, knowing dark is how we recognize light.

--Quinn McDonald is a writer and creativity coach. Last night she had a dream about the Grizzly Adams guy. She’s still not over the experience.

Photo credit: JimKSter through Creative Commons.