Holiday Read-Along

Join me at sadies-sketchbook.com for a read-along of the From Sadie’s Sketchbook series this holiday season. Starting November 1, 2012, I will be hosting a book club, blogging about the themes of the books, answering reader questions and sharing behind the scenes stories about my writing process. Stay tuned for surprises such as featured reader interviews, autographed book give-aways, and even a Twitter Q&A! The book club will run through February 2013.
In the books, Sadie Douglas, a spunky seventh grader, moves from the Bay Area to a small town in upper Michigan. Her dad’s job is to mediate between the hunters, community members, and a researcher about their conflicts over the black bears in their town. Sadie arrives in town expecting fun and adventure, but quickly finds herself on the outside. Sadie does make friends with Ruth, and the researcher’s son, and also meets Vivian, an artist. Vivian becomes a mentor for Sadie and encourages her to explore her questions through drawing and record her thoughts in her sketchbook. The four books follow Sadie through the seasons as she comes to love the bears and worries about their plight, faces the ups and downs of friendship, and learns to see the world differently as she works through her growing need to understand what she believes.
Just like the Sadie books, which raise deep questions and yet bubble over with fun, readers can expect the read-along to challenge them to think deeply and laugh out loud, too. Creative activities, fun Advent suggestions, and prompts to spark ideas for stories, poems and sketches will pop up throughout the three months. Bookmark the blog and join in on the fun!

The Beginning

Have you ever wondered why books don’t start with the words: THE BEGINNING? We all take such joy in typing THE END on that very last page.

Maybe the reason we don’t start with THE BEGINNING is because life doesn’t work that way. Often we don’t realize an event was a beginning until long after the story is completely in motion. This week, I had the privilege of witnessing a beginning, though, and the most fun part was the realization that I was at the beginning of something very special.

I am passionate about teaching. I’ve worked with thousands of young people on theatrical productions and creative writing, but this week, for nearly the first time, I began a creative writing class for adults. I approach all my teaching with a playful style, and maybe that’s why I’ve directed my attention at young people who are more open to “getting out of their seats and moving around the room,” or using colored markers and index cards to plot a book. The fact is, many adults are hesitant to let loose and play. Yet, the power of play is powerful for adults, maybe even more than it is for young people.

Young people are often in situations in classrooms or after school classes where they are asked to interact playfully. This is not the case for adults, and so when adults are given the green light to play, amazing discoveries ensue. We all know the feeling of being stuck, of having looked at a project so long that we simply can’t see it anymore. A game provides a new lens through which to look, and a new hopeful perspective too. The questions shift. “What should I do?” and “What’s the right answer?” become “What could I do?” and “What’s a possible answer?” This change may seem small, but the implications are huge. We don’t have to be right or perfect or efficient. We can just play with ideas and see what emerges.

I asked the ladies in my class how they felt after our hour an a half. They said, “I can’t believe how much I got done! I can’t believe how much new perspective I have!” Through play, we let go of our need to be grown up and serious and careful, and somehow we made strides we hadn’t been able to make otherwise.

I’ve been listening to a new book by Brene Brown called Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent and Lead. In this book, Brene Brown shares reflections on her research on wholehearted living, on how vulnerability is essential for all people, and how shame affects all of us (whether we’re willing to admit it or not). What I’m realizing is that what I saw firsthand in my class, and what I’m hearing Brene detail from her research, all matches up with my own life experience. Opening up to experiences that make us feel vulnerable is terrifying, and yet one can’t be creative (or even fully human) without these experiences. Play is key. When we play, we shift into a mode where vulnerability is simply part of the game. We bypass our grown up critic who tells us that we might ruin our idea or humiliate ourselves by trying something at which we’re not sure we can succeed. We tap into that child we carry with us all the time, the child who loves to laugh and be messy and try new things and learn and who knows the delicious joy of discovery.

So, what do I think is beginning? Something exciting. Something huge and important. It starts with me. I’m learning that not only is learning to be vulnerable and play important for my life, it’s important for others. Not just children. Adults too. Artists. All people. I think I’m realizing what I need to start shouting from the mountaintops and what I need to share with anyone who will listen. You’re feeling stuck? Let’s play. And not in a way that diminishes the difficulty of what’s going on. Not in a naive way. Play might be one of the very most important things that a person can do. The strange thing is, the only way to play is to be willing to be silly and let go of expectations. Stuart Brown MD, founder of the National Institute for Play, insists that true play is “apparently purposeless.” The point is, you can’t create a five point plan or set a timer and tally up results afterward. You’ve just got to let go. Just play.

And in the meantime, read these amazing books by these visionary thinkers. Their research and insights will transform your daily life.

Sketching with Sadie

In honor of the upcoming release of Brilliant Hues, the fourth book in the From Sadie’s Sketchbook Series, I’m hosting a Sketching Challenge.

If you’ve read the first three books, you know that sketching becomes a way for Sadie to explore and ultimately better understand her new life in Michigan. Many of us are starting new, with new classrooms, new teachers, maybe even new schools or towns. Why not do what Sadie does… and sketch?

There’s something joyful in searching for a scene to sketch. As you search, your mind will start to take mental snapshots. You’ll notice just how vivid the orange clouds are at sunset, be surprised by a dragonfly’s blue-green wings, or burst out laughing at a puppy wriggling on his back on bright green grass. The ordinary becomes so much more interesting when you pay attention.

Consider carrying a camera with you. Snap real shots of moments you’d like to sketch, so you have all the details when you sit down with pencils and paper.

Start by just noticing, even if you don’t sketch yet. Vivian would say that “Learning to see is the first step in learning to draw.” If you sketch something you love, email the pdf to Naomi with a title for your image. I will post many of your images here on the blog. For the next month or two, check back for new drawing challenges. More are on the way!

Happy Sketching!

Commitment and Creative Winds

Give me a “30 days to (fill in the blank)” program and I’m in. There’s something about committing fiercely and the progress that comes along with the commitment that makes me feel as though I’m achieving success. In my mind, I call this “getting somewhere.” That’s very telling. Not “getting (fill in the blank with a specific location)” but “getting somewhere.”

Where am I going? What’s the rush?

Don’t get me wrong. Tracking movement in my life and making commitments has served me well. It’s just that I’m realizing the guilt that goes along with these commitments might be stifling the creative winds that flow through my life.

I’m starting to think I should start in a different place. The truth is, anything worth learning to do isn’t done in chunks of 30 days anyway. Instead of committing to cram new information into my head, what if my goal were more authentic, less achievement-oriented? Isn’t my goal actually to live a more creative life, to let myself explore and learn something new? And if exploration is my goal, maybe I need to work on a couple 30 day programs at once, and *gasp* perhaps not complete them in 30 days. Or maybe I need to toss all the 30 day programs out the window and trek out into totally uncharted territory.

Maybe.

To tell the truth, I think we all need both: commitments to ourselves, commitments we strive to achieve, and also flexibility to go with the flow. I’ve started a new habit, one I think might just work for me. Many nights (see I didn’t say “every night…”) I take a few moments to jot some notes down about the day. Did I invest in creative exploration today? Did I invest in friends and family? Did I learn anything new? What am I grateful for today? Over time, I’m starting to see that my impulse isn’t actually to achieve some far-fetched goal, but instead to honor each day–to value my minutes and hours–by being intentional.

Do you track movement in your life in any particular way? I’d love to know.

 

Bushwhacking

We’ve got a debate going at my house. When is the end of the year?

I believe, and have long-held, that the end of the year is the last day of school. Of course, those that hold that December 31 is the last day of the year are technically more correct. Still, in the cycle of my life, when school ends and the summer stretches long in front of me, I feel like I’ve stepped into a land of new beginnings. New possibilities spring up.

The first thing I do is bushwhack. Yep. As though my office is a jungle (and on the last day of the school year, it practically is), I hack through the piles and paperwork and clutter. As my recycling bin and donation boxes fill, and I start to see my desk’s surface, I feel my lungs open and I can finally breathe.

Clearing my desk allows me to clear my mind–always a joyful process because where there’s space, creativity is possible. When I’m in the thick of commitments and appointments and classes, buried in paperwork and email and to-do items, I simply can’t think of a single new thing. But my heart feeds on these new ideas, these full-of-hope possibilities, and creativity is generally the thing I most need when I’m in those overwhelmed, too-busy moments. So, today, I’m feeling grateful as I scan my shiny, clear desk. Anything is possible. Perhaps, today, I can get back to the important work of learning how to play.