Friday Dispatch: There's That Word Again

(hint: it's free)

Friday Greetings,

You probably know by now that I’m a fellow in Cohort 4 of the Jewish Studio Project’s Creative Facilitation Training. We’re partway through the first of two years of training, and as the months go by, I am turning more and more readily and freely towards playing with art-making.

(As an aside but totally related: Just as so many people who write beautifully say they’re not “really writers,” I have long had a story that “I’m not an artist” or that I’m “bad at art.” TOUCHÉ to the TOUCHÉ!)

The Jewish Studio Process, in a nutshell, is to engage in study with a partner or small group, move to writing an intention, making art, and then witnessing your piece, perhaps sitting across from it and letting it speak to you. (I am vastly oversimplifying and highly recommend attending a JSP public program – they are all free and amazing and you do not have to be Jewish!)

At last night's webinar, the beit midrash (study) portion of the evening centered around several mask-related quotes and questions for inquiry, as we move toward the holiday of Purim. During the art-making part of our time, which is essentially a period of parallel play, lots of people made or started making actual masks.

I ended I collaging.

I made this collage in about 15 minutes. I was aware, especially when I first started, of the voice telling me I didn’t know what I was doing. But because of the time constraint, I just dove in. It was less that I felt rushed and more that I felt free.

What has begun to occur to me is that this is the visual equivalent of a freewrite.

Yep. There’s that “free” word again.

With a prompt or without a prompt, you start where you are and keep going. There is no time to override or second-guess. And sometimes, what emerges from this kind of process is raw and true. That's certainly not always the case, but for me this week, that's what happened.

When I sat across from the collage afterward, I followed R' Adina Allen's suggestion to write in the voice of the piece. From that writing, I chiseled out a very short poem – just 13 lines – that felt complete and honestly shook me a little. The title is “Nova,” and I submitted it yesterday to Image, a quarterly journal.

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As you’ve probably gathered, I’m no stranger to overthinking :)

I’m sure that’s no small part of why I gravitate towards practices like these; they help me strengthen a muscle of movement, the opposite of paralysis.

These timed approaches to creative expression, be it written or visual, do not preclude slower, deeper ways of engaging with one’s work. On the contrary, I’d argue that they foster it by giving us bursts of beginnings.

If you’re feeling stuck or just in the mood to make something and don’t quite know where or how to start, turn to a timer. Put some music on if that’s your jam, or create in silence. Pull out a piece of paper or pull up a blank document. Get out your old magazines and scissors or the watercolors you haven’t touched in ages. Take 10, 15, 20, 30 minutes – whatever is available to you – and just go. See what happens.

What does this free up for you?

As always, keep me posted!

Shabbat Shalom and love,

Jena

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