Art Attack!
At the end of July, my husband, Mark, and I celebrated his birthday with a long weekend in New York City. For many years, I detested NYC. I perceived the population as gazillions of maggots moving about the filthy city, in a rush to get the last bite. Talk about a small town girl intimidated by the Big Apple!
Then, about five years ago, Mark and I went together for the first time. We eased into it by staying across the river, in my birth place (and Frank Sinatra's), Hoboken, NJ. At last, with a limited window of time, some specific plans, enough money to afford the city, and an escape route to New Jersey, I managed to see it anew.
Two years ago, we stretched my tolerance, and stayed a few blocks from Madison Square Garden, where U2 played in honor of Mark's birthday...okay, well, maybe not exclusively for him, but the performance date did compel us to try the city again. We found the concert to be rather painful, but we treated ourselves to "Kinky Boots" tickets, walks around the city- including several of its lovely parks, and discovered the delicious eats of Curry Hill. Nice!
At last, we come to this most recent sojourn into the city that never sleeps. After exiting Penn Station with rollerboard luggage in hand, we followed Google's directions, and trekked the ten blocks to our hotel. We hadn't realized Google would perceive the best route as directly through Times Square. Bam! As though going from the quiet of the train to the bustle outside of Penn Station/ Madison Square Garden didn't already feel like time traveling, the ever moving neon billboards certainly did the trick.
Approaching the hotel, we noticed that 6th Avenue appeared to be blocked off for some reason. We learned, Saturdays mean street fairs in the city, so 3rd, 6th, and 9th hosted barricades to allow pedestrian-only traffic for as far as the eye could see (which was almost to Central Park), providing space for food, craft, and other vendors to sell their wares.
As we began eating our way to Central Park, we stopped at a food cart to appease my craving for a hot dog. I expected a quick, skinny log smothered in a soft bun, with a dab of mustard. Instead, I witnessed a craftsman at work. This vendor fashioned a spicy grilled creation on a lightly grilled roll, with no ordinary mustard. It was like entering an alternate universe of hot dogs. A land where even the most mundane food could be turned into art!
This kicked off an intense weekend of art in every imaginable form. We feasted on the music, dancing, and acting of those performers in "The Waitress" and "Groundhog Day." Our eyes gloried in the beauty of the Chihuly art glass exhibit at the New York Botanical Garden, where stunning man-made creations sprouted as integrated center pieces among nature's own gorgeous palette. The textures, the smells, being part of the moving landscape...it awakened my senses on every level, and reminded me that I, too, am a creative being.
Several years ago, Mark and I participated in Gay and Katie Hendricks' "Creativity Camp" in Ojai, California. A cornerstone of the program, related to a daily creativity practice. Those familiar with "The Artist's Way," likely understand this notion.
According to Hendricks' model, a creativity practice is a simple thing. You may choose any form - writing, food, art supplies, flora, fabric, your voice, or any other musical instrument - this list is endless, and with your medium of the moment, express yourself free of agenda. What I mean by that, is this: you have ZERO attachment to the outcome. So, if you're thinking that you want a really delicious breakfast, and you're starting with random ingredients in your fridge to see what happens, you are already holding expectations of what you want as a result (a yummy meal).
This creativity practice requires your willingness to create something absolutely inedible, just for the experience of watching it sizzle and burn. Is it wasteful to use the paints, if you can't hang the finished product? NO! It's the lubrication for living a creative life. The practice massages the muscles that allow you to take risks by trying on new things. It oils the gears of your connection to the universal energies, so that your unique expression may be contributed freely.
I used this practice very regularly for the first couple of years after attending camp. And, little by little, I moved away from it. The space got filled with new, beneficial practices, and a bunch of distracting nonsense, because sometimes, that's just what I do. After being drenched with this virtual storm of artistry, though, I'm remembering why it matters.
I've been slow to pick up the practice as faithfully as I originally did, but little by little, I'm reintegrating the practice of creativity. It opens me. I can feel the aliveness of it! And when that vitality flows through me, I am delighted by it, and it touches those I love.
A few days after returning home from New York, I dragged a hesitant husband to a concert at "Great Woods" (yes, I'm old enough to only remember the original name). Although I hadn't realized it, we scored front row tickets on the left side facing the stage. And somehow, this cocktail of positioning allowed us to feel the rumble of sound deep in our chests - like the boom of fireworks - without deafening our ears! Turned out, Mark knew more "One Republic" songs than I did, and we sang, danced, held hands, and kissed our way through Ryan Tedder's perfectly toned soliloquy. Thus proving, yet again, that art opens us.
We can't help but be impacted by the heart expression of any being, be it ourselves or someone we've never met. In all its forms, art effects us, even when we are unaware of its touch. When we tap into our own creativity, we share our heart space; and we impact the world in ways we cannot imagine.
If you don't believe me, go have your own art attack! Expose yourself to food, music, dance, poetry, blown glass, quilts...anything that represents an expression from someone else's heart. Bombard your senses with the wildness, the beauty, and the contrasts. Allow yourself to be inspired, offended, and delighted. Then, go home, and try on a creativity practice - just ten minutes a day - so that you may begin to be touched by the expression of your own heart, and allow the ripples of the voice within to impact the world.
With love,
Joanne Lutz