Poetry

Monday, September 12, 2011

The Hour for Swimming

It is not the hour for swimming

It is the time for dancing

But I am still

The waves and I

Are in relation

Gently flowing toward my feet

I trust

I am aware enough to predict

How close you will come

If you were to fool me

To reach me even slightly

I would secretly welcome it

I would laugh at my illusion of control

This table top is just right for two people

The light is hitting the sand just right for inspiration

You move closer

But I stay still

I am not sure why I do not reach you in the middle

I am enjoying you crossing farther and farther

More wet sand, less dry sand

I am content

But my feet still want to dance

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Monday, May 23, 2011

Your Red Room

Volume may be a little low, so raise it up a bit!



Thanks for watching!

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Currently Untitled

She called and told me about all of the fun you were having. She described the art galleries, the friends, the laughter. That time you all wandered together in the dimly lit streets and life was quiet and beautiful. And in that instant I knew her, she was lovely. She spoke to me like a dear friend just catching up while she had a few minutes before rushing off to the next awe-inspiring agenda. She made me feel like I was a part of it all. And at the same time she showed how much I was not a part of it.


I’m sitting on a box bursting at the seams. Holding down the cover to beautiful contents that reveal the answer. I have never seen inside but I have felt the energy, the resting momentum. It is waiting to be opened to the world. Ready to soar like a thick golden light that passes by in the consistency of molasses floating in the air. And when the time comes, I will be ready to jump into the path and spin with arms and fingers spread wide. And this light will wrap around me like I remember your arms holding me. Lift me like your arms until there is no earth, there is no direction, and there is no turning back.


Until then, I am sitting on the leather casing of this box, running my fingers across the worn edges and catching my fingernails on the cracks and tears. Sometimes I lay across the top, and the surface is just large enough to hold me if I curl my knees to my chest. My cheek rests on the darkened surface. I feel all of the comfort in the world from this oh so well known encasement to riches that have been growing inside. I live for the moments I wake from sleep from the slow sensation of the worn leather across my cheek as my lips form a smile.


One day though, she will call me and she will not tell me about your life adventures. Instead she will say, “Tonya, you need to know that this box is not yours. I let you believe it for so long, but I need it back now.”


I will lift myself up as I begin to grasp this realization. On the way, my sleeve becomes snagged on a loose nail, tearing the thin fabric and leaving faint white scratch mark that will quickly disappear. I watch the mark fade, and think, “Is that all? Not even a scar to take with me in defeat?”


I finally see the dingy and dark room around me. Kneeling atop the box, I am colder now, and my bony knees fight against the hard surface that felt so soft before. I have the sudden urge to leap as far as I can. At the same time I have the urge to pry open the box and take what is inside before she has the chance to claim it.


I feel the all too distinct pangs of regret, jealousy, loss. They present themselves in my chest in sequence, and repeat. By this time I have jumped down to the floor, both of my thumbs prying into the crease of the cover. I press my lips against that crease and whisper, “What do I do? What do I do?”


I receive no answer. So I wait.


I am still waiting.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Honey, Sweetheart...

**Disclaimer: I don't do drugs and I don't plan to. Metaphor.**

I’m an addict.

(That’s it, huh?)

I have a drug.

(That’s what we’re calling it these days?)

But I only use in my sleep.

(ha!)

That’s ok right?

(sure, of course, certainly)

If it happens in my dreams

(silly girl)

It’s not real.

(“real,” nice try)

But man, I have to confess,

(confess)

It’s starting to spill over.

(you have more to confess than that)

It’s starting to happen

(continuing)

During the day,

(the safe place)

Daydreams?

(euphemism?)

Maybe.

(maybe.)

But wait!

Quiet!

My daydreams

I can control those.

So that means

I am making the choice

I am taking that drug

Because I want to

Because I love it

It feels so good,

I tell you, if you only knew!

This drug

Must not actually exist

If it was real

It could never be this good

Or could it?

I think that’s the question

The one that keeps me hooked

Could it exist?

Somewhere?

When I wake up nowadays

I’m still high

And I want more.

It’s affecting me

The side effects,

I still haven’t

Experienced them all yet.

And I am afraid to.

But I just can’t shake you.

You, this drug

You, dirty, cheap

And dangerous,

I want to send you away,

Kick you out of my house.

But before you go,

(No don’t go)

I have to know

(I have a secret)

Are you here for a

(I don’t want to let you go)

Reason? Meaning? A Clue!

(Just stay a little longer)

Are you trying to tell me something?

(She thinks she’s letting go)

I’ll listen.

I want to listen.

Tell me.

I give in.

I give up.

I will wait for the answer.

(honey…)

(sweetheart,)

(desperate fool)

(it’s never going to come.)

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Vulnerabillty

Hi! Here is a little glimpse into a larger intermodal project that I did on vulnerability. The full project includes drawings, spoken word played with music, and improvised authentic movement. I do not have documentation of the movement and I considered posting the video of my speaking with the music but I'm not willing to be quite that vulnerable right now. :) So here I have a couple of pictures of large drawings relevant to the exploration (taken with my macbook because that's unfortunately the highest quality camera I have right now) and I have taken the speaking part and brought parts of it together into a poem sort of form in order to give a summary. I hope it still translates enough in this form! Thanks for reading, and I alway love comments or questions!

When I am really just me
When I just put it out there
And I just let it happen
Either because I do not care or
Because the reason for doing it is worth enough
To let go of my pride
To let go of trying to be something

Imagine how beautiful it is to
Even a little
Slice open
Sit here with my inside exposed to you
And it just feels so silly
And maybe so unnecessary
But is that because it is?
Or is it because I don’t know what you are doing to say back?
And what matters is if you agree or not
All of the sudden what it is for me is so dependant on what it is for you
And thats not --
Is that real?

I cover it with glitter
I used to hate glitter but
I need it
So fantastic and fun and mystical
It’s over the top but it’s okay
Because I appreciate it
And if you hold it in the light it just becomes light
And it’s so funny
I used glitter in kindergarten
That’s what you use it for
To make Christmas decorations for you parents
Or in high school, cover your eyes in glitter because you think it’s cool
Later you look back and say, I will never do that again
I look like a Christmas snow flake decoration
That I made in kindergarten

As I write
I feel so connected
These emotions I am feeling
Open up like a flower
I see parts of them that I did not know I was feeling
And I see the depth
Instead of just those feelings underneath the surface kind of pushing at me
I open up and see they are so much deeper than I ever realized

I open up and I connect with a sadness
I thought it was a longing and a desire
An appreciation?
A strong feeling
And it is a sadness
It’s bittersweet
Bittersweet
It’s just the only word that fits and
I hate that word
Because it’s one word
It sounds so cliche
And I don’t want to sum it up in one word
It’s bigger than one word
It’s a whole fifty paragraphs if you write like me because I write so much

And when I reach out to you
And I wait to find out what you think
And that is going to alter the whole way I am thinking?
Part of me does not want that to happen
I just want it to be mine
But that’s not what it is
It’s a about the connection between us
So it’s not just mine
And it’s so unknown now
While I thought my own emotions were so unknown
I realize that yours a far, farther beyond my reach
And it doesn’t even compare
I just have no idea

I feel myself turn off a little
It is a defense
I am preparing myself to be okay with whatever is said
But am I really okay?
Could I have the strength instead to just hold onto how I feel?
To not open up to any possibility?
But to let myself feel how I truly feel and not turn off my fear
Not open up to be flexible
Just open up to take what you have to give
And let it grind against mine
Let it just kill me inside
Or let it just push me over a little
Because it’s not as dramatic anymore
It was all in my head and it was all developing
It came out in words and it was so powerful

I did it because I wanted to solve it
But maybe I don’t want it to be solved
Because that just takes it all away
That just takes away the depth



Friday, April 22, 2011

Artist, Person, Professional

Abstract

This paper explores many process that I have been exploring as a person, an artist, and an expressive therapist. The paper begins with an artist’s statement. The rest of the paper is divided by topics that have presented themselves explores the way that each relates to identity as person, artist, and/or therapist. The overall theme explored can be framed by Nachmanovitch’s (1990) chapter entitled “Inspiration and Time’s Flow” which focuses on some fundamental aspects of creativity. It explores the fleeting and natural qualities of creativity as well as the challenge to open up and allow creativity to happen. At the end of the paper are visual artworks referenced in the body of the paper as well as additional examples of artwork I have created.

Keywords: creativity, inspiration, expressive therapy, artist, identity















Artist’s Statement

You know that moment when you let go? That moment when you trust. That moment when you take action. It is that moment that slips away before you know it happened because you did not need to know that it was there. It was that moment when everything just was.

If I was an artist I would take those moments and string them like beads on a thin piece of thread. But I should not dare tie a knot at the end of that string, for that would change everything. These moments would be trapped, defined, explained, exploited--no, let them fall as I continue to add more. For when I try to hold on and make moments permanent, all I do is take their beautiful essence from them that makes them so real.

Perhaps I am an artist, or perhaps I was. I do know that I create, I experience, and I grow. Yes, I am an artist. I am an artist who was on a path with a goal, a path with a purpose. This purpose was to find the way to dazzle everyone, to become the unique and innovative artist that I surely could be. But one day, I stripped off my clothes, tossed away my shoes and I began running through the untamed forest, heading towards that other path I had heard about, that path where you just let go and play! I started off slow and confused. Climbing through the rocks and trees, my feet have not been prepared for this terrain. Sometimes I think about turning back and sometimes I dash through this forest like it is what I was born to do. It can be invigorating.

Sometimes I feel that I am close to the new path, but sometimes I wonder if I have actually moved closer to the old one. In fact, I am now questioning if this difficult terrain toward the new path actually is the path. I suspect that it is, and I suspect that I have chosen a path with no end. So as I find my way, and as I try to commit to this new direction, I make things. Sometimes these are visual artworks, sometimes they are dances, sometimes they are flowing of words into poems or stories, but most of the time they do not like to be defined or categorized. But they do love to have a witness, as do I. So I cannot tell you what to expect and I cannot summarize, because the whole point is to, well, not to do that...

The Past

My background as an artist entails a higher emphasis on technique than I think was healthy for me. I do not blame this on any one atmosphere. I think that my entire life presented environments where it appeared beneficial for me to create art for the attention and the praise that it gave me. Even up to undergraduate school, I still worked for this feedback that I had always received in my life. With art-making I had a way to be noticed and a way to feel significant and special.

The atmosphere of my undergraduate school would probably be considered more geared toward honest expression than most, but for me personally, just being there fed my habit of seeing art in the way that I always had. I was focusing much more on skillful technique and talent as motivations than I even realised. I thought that I was being true to what Nachmanovitch (1990) says in his chapter entitled, “Inspiration and Time’s Flow,” that “to do anything artistically you have to acquire technique, but you create through your technique and not with it.” (p. 21) I did not realise until now reflecting that I was putting much more emphasis on technique that I now wish to bring to my creative work. And because of this, now that I wish to let go of technique and many other things that I used to be focusing on, creating through my technique along with the other learned motivations has proven to feel like swimming upstream at times.

Precious and Ephemeral, Hoarded and Preserved

Now I am aiming to be much more focused on the moment, on honest expression, and on trusting that if I just do, then whatever needs to come out and be explored will present itself. Artwork I make, whether it be visual, movement, or any other form, has a very immediate purpose and speaks to how I feel at that very moment. Instead of creating something with the intention to show it and portray a message or get awestruck feedback, I do it for myself in that instance. I am still unsure about my connection to these pieces after they are completed though. This is mostly only an issue for artwork and writing, because any other form is usually more performance based and if it is not recorded then there is not much I can do to save it. There are some pieces of work that do speak to me in a more long term way, it is much less often than in the past, but when pieces do that, I hang them in my room. I find that this is often when they represent something that I desire or something that I am working to achieve. Then there are the pieces that are important to me but they are tucked away because they represent some pain or difficulty that I feel the need to hold onto but not to display for myself to see on a daily basis. Everything else, I have just kept so far until I decide where I stand in terms of keeping things, and with a curiosity of whether these pieces may mean something to me later.

Nachmanovitch (1990) says that, “Every moment is precious, precisely because it is ephemeral and cannot be duplicated, retrieved, or captured. We think of precious things as those to be hoarded and preserved.” (p. 24) I think this speaks to my desire to let work go as well as my desire to preserve it. By preserving it, I feel that I give more meaning and importance to it. But then it reminds me of my past work with gallery showings of artwork. My turn off to the gallery preparation and the showing of that art as well as the sales side was always so strong. I loved to share and to inspire deep thought and conversation but I felt like there was something very forced and unnatural about how everything had to be so clean and precise.

At the same time, though, for some people, displaying and honoring their work is more meaningful. I imagine that as an expressive therapist I will have to take into consideration whether the person I am working with would benefit more from an attitude of letting go of what they have created in the moment and moving on. Or would they benefit from seeing the work that they created and reflecting upon it. Is there something in their life that would benefit from honoring their artwork and proudly sharing it? In fact, I am beginning to realise that there is something missing out of my life now that I attempting to completely remove this part. I am jumping to the other side of the spectrum to try to figure things out for myself but in the meantime I am losing a real defining and meaning making aspect of my life. I realise that in the past I gained a lot of confidence from showing my art and getting feedback. What I have still to figure out is if I miss this part for healthy reasons, and if so, which parts of it to bring back, and how to know when I am ready for that.

The Stage on Which the Expressive Therapist Must Perform

Knill, Barba, and Fuchs (2004) state that, “Art in its purest form is primarily a ritual activity that is practiced in an elaborate manner only by humans and has no evident “goal” other than celebrating creativity and human potential.” (p. 23) I believe that in our culture, generally this is not true. I feel that we are taught that art (any medium) is only truly justified and meaningful if it does give a direct result, usually money. Sometimes it is for fame, but even that usually boils down to money. This is the stage that is set for us as expressive therapists (at least working in the United States) as we try to guide others to learn, explore, and express themselves through the arts. As expressive therapists, we have to work with each client, with each environment and work back toward that idea that there does not have to be a measurable or monetary goal to art-making. I believe that we not only need to present art-making as a way to celebrate creativity and human potential, but also as a way to learn and to grow. It is quite a lofty goal and works against some very fundamental ideas that are taught socially in our culture.

Balancing Act

This brings me to another challenge that I am facing while learning to become an expressive therapist. Setting the artistic part aside for a moment and there is the professional identity that I am working toward. It is something that I deal with when I find myself defining expressive therapy to just about anyone I meet outside of the field. It also comes when I am learning in school. When I am presented with new ideas and I participate in classes which can each have their very own specific style. I feel stuck between remaining open and constantly needing to reflect and state my opinions and ideas about what it means to be an expressive therapist. I feel that I need to have confidence to take risks and to begin to figure out how I define myself as an expressive therapist at the very same time that I would like to simply sit back and listen, watch, and read until I have gotten a better grasp upon what everyone else is thinking and doing. This is why a statement by Nachmanovitch (1990) stood out for me so strongly. He speaks of creativity and says that it requires “a delicate balance of sticking to your guns and remaining open to change.” (p. 22-23) It goes to show that not only the content of our work involves creativity but the collective existence of our profession requires an attitude of creativity.

One way that I can relate this idea of balancing determination and confidence with openness is in one of my artistic experiences this semester. I have always loved to write stories and I consider myself relatively good at it. But more than that, I have always wanted to be a great storyteller, someone who can speak in a way that is powerful and enchanting. In one of my classes I decided to challenge myself quite a bit by telling a story to the class. I decided not to allow myself to have any extra embellishments such as artwork or movement, or music, or anything else that I could hide behind while I tell my story. In addition to this, I made sure not to prepare the story at all. I committed to remaining in the moment and allowing the story to come through me. The experience was invigorating. I turned of my critique and the part of my brain that wished to plan ahead and formulate the story’s details in terms of some overall meaning or conclusion. I simply became the character and let the story become whatever it may. I felt what Nachmanovitch (1990) described, “In improvisation there is only one time: This is what computer people call real time.” (p. 18) In this improvisation there was only one time, now, and it felt so real and genuine. I also felt that, even though I was caught up in this story that I was creating, I was not caught up in the typical and habitual story of what I think of myself or how I define myself, in this way I experienced this concept presented by Nachmanovitch, “Faithfulness to the moment and to the present circumstance entails continuous surrender. Perhaps we are surrendering to something delightful, but we still have to give up our expectations and a certain degree of control--give up being safely wrapped in our own story.” (p. 21) I gave up being safely wrapped up in a planned story.

The Genius

One of my favorite writers, Elizabeth Gilbert (2009), speaks of different ways of thinking about creativity. Her ideas relate to the way that I approached the storytelling experience and a lot about the ways that I am trying to look at all forms of art that I create. Gilbert talks about how she has researched the way that ancient Greeks and Romans used to define the word “genius.” She explains how they believed that a person had a genius, not was a genius. This created a healthier distance for people to be seen as carriers of this inspiration and creativity, so when they worked there was not that same pressure that we often feel now that everything we do defines our worth as a person. In the eyes of the Greeks and Romans, we would just be people working to carry out this “genius” that was visiting us and sending us gifts.
Gilbert also explains ways that people she has met have incorporated this sort of thinking into the way that they create. She describes how the American poet Ruth Stone who is now in her 90’s claims that she was younger and she would be working in the fields a poem would come to her, she said, like a train. Stone would feel the rumbling of it and she would run to her house so that she could write it down as it passed through her. She said that sometimes she would not be fast enough and the poem would continue on “looking for another poet” or sometimes she would catch it just as it had gone through and grab it by the tail end and pull it back to her, and in these cases the poem would be written down on the paper completely backwards.
Another example that Gilbert references is the musician Tom Waits. She said that when she interviewed him, he told her about a time that he was driving and a glimpse of a beautiful melody came to him but he could not record it or work with it because, of course, he was driving. She said that Waits told her that he started to get very anxious but then he stopped himself from feeling this way and he spoke aloud to this inspiration and asked it if it could not tell that he was driving at that moment, and if it really wanted to exist, it should come back at a better time.
Gilbert relates all of this that she has learned to the way that she looks at her own writing process. She said that she would describe herself not as an artist who goes from one moment of inspiration to another, but as a mule who works really hard, and occasionally, she does see this glimpse of inspiration, or “genius.” As she puts it, she shows up for her job as a writer, and she allows this mysterious part to remain something that is separate from who she is. In a way she is conquering this dilemma: “And to do art only for the high feeling of completion and connectedness in the moment of inspiration would be like making love only for the moment of orgasm.” (Nachmanovitch, 1990, p. 18) She is doing the work for the sake of doing it, not just to reach those moments of inspiration. This is something that I am struggling with my own artwork and many aspects of my life. It is also something that I think could really speak to the way that we, as expressive therapists are really not only guiding our clients to create for that moment of artistic genius. If anything we may be hoping for them to reach an “aha” moment in terms of their selves, but we are not working with them with the intention of guiding them to create something that will be beautiful and praised in terms of the general standards of our culture.

A Witness

Another way that I find motivation to work in this more present way is when I am working with someone else, or in the presence of someone else. As human beings, we all long for connection and we perceive ourselves and our environments with the help of input from others. This can sometimes be healthy and sometimes it is not. The way that it can allow us to be more so in the present moment, though, is often a positive thing. In working with another person, or an expressive therapist, the individual exploring through creativity may be able to stay more so in the present moment instead of getting caught up in their own minds and the habits of their own minds. “When we drop the blinders of our own preconceptions, we are virtually propelled by every circumstance into the present time and the present mind...” (Nachmanovitch, 1990, p. 22)
While working with my art buddy, I can strong experiences of remaining in the moment and worked through some blocks that I was feeling at first arriving. In one meeting, I was feeling very still and quiet. I created a piece (Fig. 1) that was interesting and symmetrical, but not very dynamic. I was enjoying myself but I was not entirely there. Then I witnessed my partner creating something very dynamic and I was instantly inspired to begin dancing the way that the work made me feel. After that I began working on an art piece that was much more free and dynamic and finally, I turned my first piece into something that was much more natural and something that I felt much more connected to (Fig. 2).
As I have been working with my art buddy this semester, I have also been comparing our experiences to those with the art buddy whom I worked with in the previous semester. One big difference was that my last art buddy and I started with a lot more plans before working. I have realised that I do not necessarily have a preference, though. In terms of the practicality of techniques in expressive therapy I feel that there is a time for leaning toward either side of the spectrum. I like the way that Knill, Barba, and Fuchs (2004) describe it when they say, “The difference between the goal-oriented action of the game and the circular dance of play can be viewed as a difference in the structure of time, which is linear in the directed activities of a game, but circular in play.” (p. 24) In the context that they were speaking, they were praising the power of play, but I believe that the key is to know when to lean toward more of a “game” technique when someone needs some guidance. I do ultimately agree with them, though, that there needs to be emphasis on play.

Conclusion

“We can lead an active life in the world without being entangled in scripts or rigid expectations: doing without being too attached to the outcome, because the doing is it’s own outcome.” (Nachmanovitch, 1990, p. 19)

I am allowing this philosophy to guide me as I explore issues of who I am as an artist, who I am as a person, and who I am as an expressive therapist. I am working toward a point where I will be “ready” and where I will have figured everything out, but the work that I am doing right now is teaching me the work that I will do with my clients. The work that I am doing now will hopefully send me into a more comfortable place that I am in currently, but I think that this work will continue throughout my life.

McNiff (2008) says, “In our work within the expressive arts therapies I consider the immersion in uncertainty, resistance to expression, feelings of expressive inadequacy, confusion, and other inhibiting emotions to be the defining and essential features of practice.” (p. 20) So here I am doing just that, feeling uncomfortable, resistant and confused. I must remind myself that what I am learning now is valuable towards the work that I will be doing later on with clients. The more I experience, the more I will be able to understand and relate to.

As I look back on when I first began the expressive therapies program I am starting to really see the depth that I am getting into in my own identity as an artist, a person, and a therapist. When I wrote my first paper for the program I talked about why I was choosing to do this work and I talked about motivations such as desires to have a large and lasting affect on society. The idea that by helping one person you change the way that they are with other people and perhaps inspire him or her to also support others in his or her life. Now I am dealing more so with the nitty gritty of it. It is all becoming a little more raw and real. As opposed to merely focusing on the way that I can bring meaning to my life, I am also exploring the motivations behind that in greater depth. The motivation and positive lights all have their shadows. “In creative work we play undisguisedly with the fleetingness of our own life, with some awareness of our own death.” (Nachmanovitch, 1990, p. 23) There is now a strength that I am gaining by exploring those raw and human fears and uncertainties that exist within me and I am allowing myself to have the struggle of identity that everyone I encounter will also be in some stage of. Sometimes it feels overwhelming that I am doing this not only as a person, but as an artist, and an expressive therapist as well, but everyone has multiple identities, environments, and expectations that they are working through.

















References

E Gilbert. (2009, February). Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity [Video File]. Retrieved from http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html. (2011, April 18).
Knill, P., Barba, H., & Fuchs, M. (2004). Minstrels of soul: Intermodal expressive
therapy. Toronto: EGS Press.

McNiff, S. (2008). Creating with the shadow: Reflections on Stephen K. Levine’s contributions to expressive arts therapy. In E.G. Levine & P. Antze (Eds.), In praise of poiesis: The arts and human existence. (20-31). Toronto: EGS Press.

Nachmanovitch, S. (1990). Free play: The power of improvisation in life and the arts. New York: Tarcher/Putnam.















Figures
Fig. 1
Fig. 2



Additional Artistic Documentation