To celebrate the new year, I’ve created what I believe to be the Top 10 New Year’s Resolutions for writers, artists and creative types. See what you think.

1)     Create—practice your craft—every day.

2)     Believe in yourself as a writer and an artist. If you’re not there yet, “fake it till you make it.”

3)     Suspend judgment on whether or not you “should” be writing or allowing yourself to be otherwise creative. Avoid people who have the same judgment.

4)     Cultivate resilience.

5)     Give random acts of encouragement to other writers, artists, and other creative types.

6)     Assume an attitude of gratitude for every minute you find to create.

7)     Celebrate your courage and perseverance as you strive to get your work out into the world.

8)     Support the arts locally and globally: buy books, attend concerts and plays, frequent galleries, buy original art, etc.

9)      Experience beauty every day.

10)    Send your inner critic on an extended holiday.

Can you think of other resolutions that you’d like to add? Which one of these resolutions are you willing to commit to for 2011? I’d love to hear from you.

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P.S. My novel,  Seeking Sara Summers , is available on Kindle, as well as iBooks and Barnes and Noble (on the Nook).

I’m sharing a powerful quote with you today from Paul Auster, born in Newark, New Jersey in 1947. He is the author of The New York Trilogy (1985–86),a set of idiosyncratic detective stories that deal with questions of identity and existential thought, as well as a memoir, The Invention of Solitude (1982), and several other books, including the novels Moon Palace (1989), Oracle Night (2004), The Brooklyn Follies (2005), and recently Man in the Dark (2008) and Invisible (2009).

He wrote:

Becoming a writer is not a ‘career decision’ like becoming a doctor or a policeman. You don’t choose it so much as get chosen, and once you accept the fact that you’re not fit for anything else, you have to be prepared to walk a long, hard road for the rest of your days.

He also said:

I don’t know why I do what I do. If I did know, I probably wouldn’t feel the need to do it. … Surely it is an odd way to spend your life — sitting alone in a room with a pen in your hand, hour after hour, day after day, year after year, struggling to put words on pieces of paper in order to give birth to what does not exist — except in your head. Why on earth would anyone want to do such a thing? The only answer I have ever been able to come up with is: because you have to, because you have no choice.

“Why on earth would anyone want to do such a thing?”

Good question. I am 200 pages into the writing of my new novel. If I’m really lucky, I’ll have a first draft ready by June. The process of building a story out of my imagination is intense and amazing, as well as exhausting. But building a story from the ground up is only the beginning of the process. To take a book (or work of art, or poem, or song) from inception to publication and beyond, is a journey of a thousand steps. It is the biggest mountain you will ever climb. And writing (or painting, sculpting, or singing) every day is only part of the training. 

Would I choose to do this if I were a sane, reasonable person? That’s debatable. I would prefer to do something much easier. Something that didn’t involve rejection and criticism. Not to mention, marketing! Yet I keep doing it. Day after day. Year after year. Despite the hardships which the devotion to an art undoubtedly brings, I keep going. Why? Because if I didn’t, I feel like I would lose the best part of myself. The part that is creative, resilient, brave and a believer in imagination and artistic expression. The part that believes in soul.

What do you think? Does an artists’ and writers’ vocation somehow choose them or do they have a choice? I’d love to hear from you.

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Season Nine

This is my first season of watching American Idol. The prior eight seasons have gone by without me because I thought that there would be nothing that I could learn from this particular reality show.

I was wrong.

There are life lessons in everything. And sometimes the biggest life lessons are found in the least expected places. Here are the 12 Life Lessons I’ve learned, so far, from watching American Idol:

1. Figure out who you are as an artist.

2. Experience and practice really matter.

3. Be true to who you are. Don’t try to be someone else. Discover where your gifts and talents lie.

4. Put your own twist on things.

5. Be honest. Let the emotion come from the heart. Express yourself in the most truthful way that you can.

6. Choose your platform carefully. (Are you a fiction writer, nonfiction, poet, playwright, singer, painter, dancer? Don’t try to be all of them. Choose one thing to focus on and do it well.)

7. Hone your story. Know what makes you unique, different, remarkable and talk about that.

8. Avoid self-indulgence. Focus on what you have to give. Not on what you want to get.

9. Connect with your audience in big and small ways.

10. Have fun. A person who truly enjoys what they do is very attractive.

11. Take advantage of every opportunity that comes your way.

12. Be remarkable.

Crystal Bowersox

So what do you think? Are there other life lessons that can be learned from watching American Idol? I’d love to hear from you.

Buy my book, Seeking Sara Summers.

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According to the American Heritage College Dictionary I keep on my desk, the definition of resilience is: the ability to spring back and recover quickly after being bent, stretched or compressed.

Let’s face it; life has a way of bending, stretching and compressing us, even when we do our best to avoid it. Resiliency is a trait that can be helpful to everyone on the planet. But it can be especially helpful to writers, artists, and creative types.

Artists (and people with artistic sensibilities) are often bent, stretched or compressed by rejection, society’s lack of interest, and/or the critics within and without. But I think the roots of resiliency go deeper than just being able to bounce back after criticism and rejection. I think it can also involve a basic attitude about life. In my mind, resilient people have several characteristics in common.

They basically have:

1. a positive outlook on life
2. a sense of a bigger purpose at play in their lives
3. a certain level of trust in themselves and the processes of life
4. flexibility when life throws a curveball
5. an ability to keep going in the face of fear
6. an ability to find many solutions to a problem
7. an acceptance of diversity and differences
8. a desire to grow and change

On a scale of 1 – 10 where do you fall?
1 = “I’m not the least bit resilient.”
10 = “I’m the most resilient person I’ve ever known.”

I feel like I’m at about a 7.5. But I’d like to get that number even higher. How resilient are you? I’d love to hear from you.

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One thing that it is commonly agreed upon at writer’s and artist’s conferences and in books about craft is that those who somehow make it in the art and book world are those who possess one trait above all others: perseverance.

A recent New York Times article by Deborah Sontag entitled “At 94, She’s the Hot New Thing in Painting,” solidifies this point.

In an era when the art and writing worlds idolize, and often richly reward, the young and the new, Carmen Herrara, age 94, “embodies a different, much rarer kind of success, that of the artist long overlooked by the market, and by history, who persevered because she had no choice.”

In the article it tells of a time when her good friend, the painter Tony Bechara, raised a glass. “We have a saying in Puerto Rico,” he said. “The bus — la guagua — always comes for those who wait.”

The Cuban-born Ms. Herrera, laughed gustily, and responded, “Well, Tony, I’ve been at the bus stop for 94 years!”

In Carmen Herrera’s own words:

I do it because I have to do it; it’s a compulsion that also gives me pleasure. I never in my life had any idea of money and I thought fame was a very vulgar thing. So I just worked and waited. And at the end of my life, I’m getting a lot of recognition, to my amazement and my pleasure, actually.

How many of us have this level of stamina and perseverance, this level of dedication to our art? Hopefully, you won’t have to wait 94 years, but how long would you wait at that bus stop for your creative talents to be recognized?

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If you read my blog with any regularity you know that I am a champion of creativity and creative types, offering encouragement to all manner of artists, whether they are writers, painters, poets, dancers, sculptors, et al, or people whose creativity (or inner artist) has not yet found an outlet.

Below is an excerpt from a book I am currently reading by Lewis Hyde entitled The Gift: Creativity and the Artist in the Modern World. See if it resonates with you.  

The art that matters to us—which moves the heart, or revives the soul, or delights the senses, or offers courage for living, however we choose to describe the experience—that work is received by us as a gift is received. Even if we have paid a fee at the door of the museum or concert hall, when we are touched by a work of art something comes to us which has nothing to do with the price. I went to see a landscape painter’s works, and that evening, walking among pine trees near my home, I could see the shapes and colors I had not seen the day before. The spirit of an artist’s gifts can wake our own….Our sense of harmony can hear the harmonies that Mozart heard. We may not have the power to profess our gifts as the artist does, and yet we come to recognize, and in a sense to receive the endowments of our being through the agency of his/her creation. We feel fortunate, even redeemed…the gift revives the soul. When we are moved by art we are grateful that the artist lived, thankful that she labored in the service of her gifts.

Are you laboring in the service of your gifts? Have you experienced art lately that revived your soul, delighted your senses, or offered you courage for living? If so, I’d love to hear from you.

This inspirational quote from Marianne Williamson has made the rounds for years. Nevertheless, I will reproduce it here just in case someone needs to hear it or experience it again or for the first time. Writers, artists, and creative types (especially women) are notorious for “playing small” and not seeing their worth.  

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

 

How do you respond to this quote? Do you think her words have truth in them? Are you guilty of “playing small”? I’d love to hear from you. Meanwhile, I challenge you to do one thing today to let your “light shine.” 

P.S. Along the same lines, I recently came across another quote by Senator Edward Kennedy which read: “There is no safety in hiding….”

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This post is from my greatest hits collection. It didn’t receive a lot of comments when I originally posted it in December 2008, but I did receive the most personal emails I’ve ever received from people thanking me for the post. Writers and artists need all the support we can get. Please send this on to every creative person you know.

I hope you’ll also consider leaving a comment. For those of you who subscribe, simply click the title of the post to get to the comment section.

A Blessing for All Artists

(Writers/Poets/Painters/Sculptors/Musicians/Dancers)

and the Artist Within Each of Us.

• May the time you find to develop your talents be sacred and abundant

• May you be surrounded by people who encourage you in small and large ways

• May you develop a tough skin and a supple heart

• May you trust your creative process and express yourself with a true and unwavering voice

• May you be rewarded financially for all your efforts

• May any struggle you face make you stronger, so that you persevere and continue on the path

• May you grow in confidence, seeing clearly your value and worth

• May you be appreciated, in your lifetime, for the gift of healing you offer the world

© Susan Gabriel

www.susangabriel.com

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Hey, all you creative types. I’m always looking for resources for writers and artists and a few months ago I came across a great little online community called Inked-in. Inked-in is an international social-networking community for writers, musicians and artists.

It’s a great group of people, with over 700 members so far. It is, of course, absolutely free, and it’s safe to say that you will get out of it what you put into it. It is for people who want to be writers, artists and musicians, as well as people already established in their fields.  Inked-In is associated with The Burry Man Writers Center, which you may also want to check out.

This is the mission statement on Inked-In’s home page:

Inked-In connects writers, artists and musicians with each other.

We are a giant, ongoing novel, with pathos and drama, pictures and video, stupid jokes and genuine friendships, and most of all supreme creativity. And you never know where it will head next.

Welcome home!

If you decide to join, check out my page , I’d love to be one of your first friends.

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The snow-capped Rocky Mountains surround me like ancient grandparents who want to tell me their stories and pass their wisdom on to me. There are no fresh words to describe this level of jaw-dropping beauty. Majestic, timeless, awesome, are overused. Yet every time I sit and witness this scene, I feel refreshed, renewed.

So if these mountains could talk, what would they say to artists today? Somehow, I imagine their lessons would be about authenticity. You cannot look at these mountains and not feel their “being”ness. They are solid, dependable and real.

I think artists are called upon to be authentic, too. We are called upon to be observers and witnesses to our surroundings and to report back to society through our writings, paintings, sculptures, poems, and more. And I truly believe that the more real and solid we are, the more effective and inspiring our work will be to others.

Perhaps these mountains would also teach us how to be unwavering in our belief of ourselves and encourage us to call upon all our strength to do the work that’s involved in fulfilling our purpose on this planet. Perhaps they would tell us to rest in the majestic, awesome, timelessness within, and connect to our own “being”ness.

Geologists tell us that this is the second set of mountains to form in this place. The peaks of the current Rockies, soaring up to 14,000 feet and higher, were created from the remains of the ancestral Rockies from millennia before. So, too, it seems that artists today stand on the shoulders of every artist who came before us. Not only the Michelangelo’s and Jane Austin’s, but those who did their art faithfully and honestly and were perhaps not remembered for it. Indeed, we all stand on the shoulders of giants.

So when I stand on the magnificent Rockies, I am reminded and re-inspired to do my work, sand grain by sand grain, my piece of moving humanity forward by being an artist. Make sure you do yours, as well.

P.S. My first novel, Seeking Sara Summers , is available on Kindle, as well as iBooks and Barnes and Noble (on the Nook).

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