Teresa R. Funke's Blog: Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life, page 11

May Your Blessings Be Many

This will be a short post today. I just returned from a three-week vacation to our beloved rental cottage in southwest Ireland. On the fifth day of our trip, I fell and cracked my collarbone. I spent the rest of the vacation in a sling. I’m healing well now, but still mostly typing with one hand! Slow going!

All things considered; the injury was a blessing in that strange way that “bad things” can so often be. It caused my husband and me to slow way down, enjoying casual walks through beautiful gardens, slow drives along the coast, afternoon teas with pastries or scones, and wonderful evenings of music in the pubs.

I’ve never talked so much about how ivy grows on a tree, or how to pick wild blackberries in the hedges, or how interesting bruises can be. Ireland is a spiritual place for me, and it wasn’t just my clavicle that was healing while we were there, it was my soul.

I’ll write more about that soon, but for now, I’m going to go rest my arm and savor this lovely fall day. But first, an Irish blessing for you: “May your troubles be less, and your blessings be more, and nothing but happiness come through your door.”

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog

The post May Your Blessings Be Many appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

You Know What’s Really Good for You? – Revisited

This post originally ran on August 27, 2016

We are bombarded daily with tips for how to live longer, healthier lives. How to treat our bodies better, bolster our minds and nourish our souls. We’re supposed to drink eight glasses of water a day, get eight hours of sleep per night, eat our greens, meditate, take time for ourselves. Blah, blah, blah.

I’ll tell you what’s really good for you. This:

Potato chips and chocolate are good for you. If you’ve been beating your head against the wall for hours trying to get that paragraph just right or learn that new song on the guitar or achieve the correct lighting for that photograph, you need a pick-me-up. And, no, I don’t mean a stalk of celery, I mean something salty or sweet. Something decadent, because making art is hard work, and we deserve a treat.

Missing sleep is good for you. But only if you’re missing it because you can’t stop thinking about that story or reworking that painting or messing with that tune. We can’t control when inspiration strikes, so if it hits in the middle of the night, and it feels good, do it!

Caffeine is good for you. If you were up half the night creating, you need that cup of coffee. If you’ve got a deadline and you’ve hit the four o’clock brain drain, you need that Mountain Dew. If your artist friend calls at nine o’clock in the evening needing to vent, go ahead and make that cup of Earl Grey tea. You might be up for a while.

Bragging is good for you. When that stupid-ass piece of art finally comes together, you gotta tell someone. Sure, you could do the “right” thing and modestly state, “I finished my piece today.” Or you can declare, “I’m done! And it’s awesome. And I’m a goddamn genius.” Now doesn’t that feel better?

Alcohol is good for you. There’s a reason we have the expression, “I need a drink.” Sometimes, you just do. And I think artists and entrepreneurs need it more than most people. Why? Because we are responsible for all aspects of our work and creation, and that can be overwhelming at times. Of course, if you can’t drink, you can always have more chocolate. That works for me too.

This is not permission to lead a destructive life. If you don’t take care of your mind and body, you can’t do your best work. But sometimes, your creative soul knows better than the experts what is really good for you.

By Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog. Read more entries in the book, Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life. 

 

The post You Know What’s Really Good for You? – Revisited appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

Perfect is Not Always Best – Revisited

This post first ran on June 17, 2017

There is a sculpture not far from my house that is a representation of one of our town’s early residents. It sits on a pedestal at the corner of a busy intersection, and visitors and locals often asked two questions about the piece: “Who is that supposed to be?” and “Why is his head so big?”

The answer to the first question is Antoine Janis, the first white settler in our county. The answer to the second was “artist error.” Recently, the artist decided to correct her mistake, and received permission to remove the statue and reduce his head size by 15%.

The new and “improved” Antoine Janis is now standing once again on that same street corner, and the artist is pleased with her adjustment. You would think I would be too, but I’m not. I miss his big head.

It’s true that Antoine looked a little “funny” with his oversized head, but I came to love him that way. It made him unique. It gave him character. It helped him stand out. And it certainly got him noticed. His confident stance sort of made up for his “deformity.” It was like he was saying, “Yeah, I’m odd, but that’s me. Take me or leave me.”

Now Antoine looks “normal,” and no one asks about him anymore. I used to talk to him when I drove by.

“Hey, Antoine, what’s with the giant noggin?”

“So, buddy, how do you hold that thing up?”

“Lookin’ good, Antoine. The shadows today have slimmed up that head of yours.”

Now, I’ve got nothing to say. He’s just plain, old Antoine.

So maybe better is not always best. Maybe sometimes our screw-ups are more endearing than our “perfect” pieces. Though it’s tempting to “correct our mistakes,” maybe sometimes we should let them stand.

Think of all the great songs that came about because a wrong note was played or all the books we love that really aren’t that well written. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I thought Antoine was once quite handsome, big head and all.

By Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog. Read more entries in the book, Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life

 

The post Perfect is Not Always Best – Revisited appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

10,000 Joys and 10,000 Sorrows – Revisited

This post originally ran on March 18, 2018

Buddha once said that everyone would experience 10,000 joys and 10,000 sorrows in their lifetime. I came across that quote the other day, and the number jolted me. It sounded so high! I mean, it’s not hard to imagine 10,000 joys if you think of a joy as finding a pretty feather as a child or eating a really good meal. But it was nearly impossible to wrap my head around 10,000 sorrows. That seemed so daunting. Must we really bear so much?

But then I asked myself why “sorrows” have to feel so much bigger than joys. Maybe our sorrows can be simple too, like feeling sad when a friend cancels a coffee date or when you find mold in your bowl of strawberries. Maybe sorrow doesn’t have to refer only to the biggest, hardest things we endure.

There will be the immense joys, like the birth of a child or the moment you are handed that diploma, and immense sorrows, like the loss of a loved one or the betrayal of a best friend. But if you can start to see life as a balance, you come to understand that in any given day, you can experience sorrow and joy, and they can live comfortably side by side.

In some ways, I think artists and creatives are more affected by this roller coaster than many people. Just going through my e-mail on a Monday morning brings a constant stream of joys and sorrows. “Oh yay, a new book order! Oh no, my speaking gig fell through. Oh yay, I just signed a new business partner. Oh no, I didn’t place in the contest.”

For far too long, I took only passing notice of the joys and dwelled for hours on the sorrows. What could I have done differently? Why didn’t that person like my work? Did I drop the ball somewhere? Why did I put myself out there when I should’ve known it was a long shot?” The joys seemed to be only momentary confirmation my hard work had paid off. The sorrows felt like heavy mistakes.

I’m not doing that anymore. I’m taking a moment to feel the joy, and a moment to experience the sorrow, and then I’m releasing them both. They’re all part and parcel of doing business. Sometimes the joys lead us to great new places and sometimes they turn out to be nothing. Sometimes the sorrows bring an end to something we cared about and sometimes they free up space for something better to come along.

It’s not my job to question what either of those things means or to spend all my time hoping and praying for the joys and beating myself up over the sorrows. I understand now you can’t have one without the other, and neither is “better” or more important. They just are.

By Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog

 

The post 10,000 Joys and 10,000 Sorrows – Revisited appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

Is Art Its Own Excuse for Being?

A frequent reader of this blog wrote to me in response to my post titled, “Does Art Need a Purpose?”

“Just as beauty is its own excuse for being,” she said, “so is art.”

I found the full quote about beauty online. It’s from a poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson called “The Rhodora.” It reads:

Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,

Then Beauty is its own excuse for Being

I loved how my reader took the concept and applied it also to art. There are so many things in life for which we can be grateful that justify their own existence: a beautiful sunset, the sweet taste of a summer peach, the song of a whale, the kiss of a loved one. Things like beauty, love, freedom, and creativity exist simply to make our experience on this Earth better. You can’t place a value on happiness or sorrow, yet each gives our lives meaning. Connection and devotion exist only to bring us together.

Artists have been making art since long before it was a profession. Mothers have been humming to babies since long before we wrote music down. Inventors have drawn inspiration from nature since long before money changed hands. Creativity breathes in each of us not just to make our lives better but to keep us alive. Literally.

But as societies formed, and economies were designed, values were assigned. Elders have taught children since time immemorial, but at some point, we decided teaching was a profession. People have taken care of the sick since long before we concluded doctors and nurses should be paid. Over time, we assigned value to those who serve and protect the gifts that have no value on their own, like health, knowledge, innovation, nature, and, yes, beauty.

And from this thinking, the professional artists were born. People who would capture beauty, preserve it, share it, and create community from it, not just some of the time, and not just to adorn useful tools, but all of the time. We assigned value to effort and talent spent painting images of our families, writing songs to immortalize our battlefield wins, recording stories we had passed down and the ones we were now living.

If Beauty is its own excuse for Being (note the capitalization Emerson used), and art celebrates Beauty, then it’s true that art is its own excuse for Being. That’s why I encourage every single reader to embrace the artist in themselves with full permission to create simply because it’s our birthright and privilege to do so. Simply because it brings us and those who receive our art joy.

If I could expand on my reader’s lovely observation, though, I would also argue (and I think she would agree) that every day, we humans teach children new skills, we decorate cakes for parties, we build shelves for our friends, and we receive no pay for that. Art exchanges hands simply because it’s needed and appreciated. But every day, professional teachers, cooks, and carpenters show up for work, and we pay them for their efforts. We can’t do all the jobs ourselves, so we support the experts so they can nurture us.

Professional artists devote time and attention not just to creating our art and following our passions, but to teaching, mentoring, preserving, celebrating, and advocating for art and artists, and that has real value. We didn’t decide this and we shouldn’t have to justify it. It was decided long ago when societies concluded that those who grow our food, or make our goods, or lead our governments should get paid for their role in protecting and advancing the things we value just for Being. And yes, that goes for artists too.

And that’s just another way art saves us.

By Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and “Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life” blog. To read more entries like this buy the book Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life.

The post Is Art Its Own Excuse for Being? appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

Does Art Need a Purpose?

I recently donated a Little Free Library to a local mobile home park. I stopped by the library, which is located near the playground, the other evening and chatted with some of the kids who were playing there. Some of them had seen and even used the library, the others hadn’t noticed it at all. I pointed out to three second-grade boys that the library was painted by a ten-year-old girl who lives at the park. They were so excited to hear that. They walked around the structure pointing out various aspects of her artwork.

The boys also enjoyed rearranging the books in what each thought was the best way to display them. One wanted to count the pages in the longest books. One fifth-grade girl asked if I could bring more graphic novels. A fourteen-year-old boy said he loves to read, but had read everything in the library. I stayed for 20 minutes chatting with the kids, and it was so fun.

But I had another reason for doing so. Someone at the park has been breaking out the Plexiglas on the front. We’ve replaced it a couple of times. I hoped that by noticing the library, interacting with it, and interacting with me, the kids might learn to love it as much as I do, even if they are not readers themselves.

In those moments of talking to the children, hearing stories about their teachers and their schools, their families here and in their parents’ home countries, and their questions about the books I had included that I myself had written, I felt my heart beat a little faster. I remembered how much I loved trips to the library when I was a kid. How excited I’d get when the Bookmobile pulled into our neighborhood. How much I enjoyed talking to my friends about books we were passing around.

And I was transported back to the days when my own children were little and we’d take our annual trip to the bookstore on the last day of school to pick out some books for the summer they could read and add to their collections. I remembered all the nights we read books together into their early teens and how I’d practically memorized all the words in each of their favorite picture books when they were toddlers.

While I would have loved to watch one of those kids at the park choose a book and take it home right that moment; while I would have welcomed the chance to talk to a parent who had borrowed some of the books to read to their child; while I was sorry to see a new crack forming in the Plexiglas where someone had tried again to break it, I had to remind myself that not all art needs to be consumed and admired in the same way.

While moving books around to make them “look better” or being amazed by books with more than 300 pages is not the same as taking those stories home, it’s still a connection: to books, to the art on the library, to the house-shaped structure my husband built, to the people who have happily donated to the library, and to reading, even if it’s only reading the titles to decide where the book “should go.”

Does art need a strictly defined purpose in order to make a connection? Maybe not.

And that might be another way art saves us.

By Teresa R. Funk

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog

The post Does Art Need a Purpose? appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

In Silence We Create Art

Since I write every week about how much I love and honor art in all its forms, you might be surprised that I don’t consume as much of certain types as you might think. Many of my friends admit to keeping the radio or TV on most of the day when they are at home to “fill the silence.”

“It’s a distraction, you know?” said one of my friends.

How did we come to be a society so obsessed with distraction? When did we lose interest in our own minds? When did we lose touch with our own hearts? When did we forget all the gifts of stillness and silence?

I do listen to music in the car or while I get dressed or do housework. But the rest of the time, our house is pretty quiet, especially now that the kids are grown. My husband was the type to “distract” himself with TV and music before he married me. Now, he respects my need for quiet, although he may not always prefer it.

Outer silence, though, doesn’t equate to inner silence. With the radio off, I’m more likely to sing or hum on my own, sometimes changing the words to the song to match what I’m doing at the moment. (That always makes me chuckle). I’m more likely to hear lines from favorite old poems or movies replaying in my head. I’m definitely more likely to hear a character in my story start talking to me. And even though my husband has generously conformed to my need for silence, I’ve noticed he still breaks into spontaneous dance sometimes to whatever song is playing in his head.

Kids need silence too. They need to get away from their screens, their video games, and their headphones and wander into their own imaginations unprompted. They need to be able to hear their own ideas and connect their own thoughts. They need to learn to recognize the voices of their muses.

I’m not saying you have to be like me all the time, but maybe try silence for an hour a day. See if the birdsong inspires a new musical composition. Or the whistle of a passing train sparks the idea for an adventure story. Or the soft ticking of the clock puts in mind a photographic series on mortality.

It’s great to go outside ourselves to experience art, but don’t forget in silence, we often create our own art. And that’s pretty special, too.

Just another way art saves us.

By Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog

The post In Silence We Create Art appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

The Art of Arranging Spaces in Our Hearts and Homes

A friend was recently certified in feng shui, the ancient Chinese art of arranging spaces to bring about harmony and balance and increase peace and prosperity. For more than a year now, my friend has been offering me tips to improve the spaces in my home, and it’s shocking how much it has raised my energy and improved my mood.

We’ve made big changes, like redoing the landscaping in our front yard (which we’d been meaning to do for a while) to create more open space in front of the door. She also mentioned that it’s “bad feng shui” to block a door, which we were doing in our study. We’d long had plants and a chair in front of a door to a side patio that we never used. Once we rearranged the furniture, I noticed how nice that little patio is, so I ordered some chairs for it, and it will now become a fun reading nook for me.

We’ve also made smaller changes, like moving artwork to different walls or balancing the five elements (water, wood, metal, fire, and earth) in fun ways around our fireplace. But the hardest change was just decluttering. My friend pointed out that I had wooden bookshelves double-stacked with books, which are also wood. In other words, I had way too much wood in those areas. Telling a writer/historian to get rid of books is like telling a golfer to get rid of her favorite clubs. But I’ve done it. I’ve now given away 575 books with more to go, as soon as I get my guts up to part with them.

There’s an element of the Marie Kondo approach in all of this, keeping only the things that bring me joy. Harder, though, has been parting with items that had sentimental value, but were no longer “useful.” For example, she pointed out I had too many pictures of my kids as babies and young children on display in the house. Now that they are adults, it’s important to both them and me that I not see those pictures and feel immediately “responsible” for them anymore. I needed to take some down. That was hard, but now I feel lighter.

And the best part of all . . . this exercise has given me permission to buy new art, which I haven’t done in a while because I thought my house was “full.”  My friend had pointed out a corner in the “fire” section of the house that needed some fire (red color or triangle shape). A few months later, I saw the works of a local artist who specializes in traditional Chinese art. She had a red peony painting that I knew would be perfect in that spot. Peonies hold a special place in my husband’s and my hearts, so that purchase felt especially good. So did the purchase of a gorgeous photograph my friend had taken that I’d been eyeing for a while.

I’m on the look-out now for some other specific art pieces for certain spaces in my home, but I’m not rushing it, because looking is part of the fun. I’ll know the right thing when I see it. And when I place it exactly where it belongs, I’ll relish the lift in my energy and the joy it all brings.

Just another way art saves us.

By Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog

The post The Art of Arranging Spaces in Our Hearts and Homes appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

Is Art Ever Annoying?

I’ve had two songs stuck in my head for weeks now and it’s driving me crazy: “What’s Love Got to Do with It,” by Tina Turner and “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”  Seriously, brain? Why that song? I don’t even like baseball.

When I was a teenager, I babysat for a lovely family who had a huge painting of a sad clown hanging on the wall in their TV room. Clowns have always wigged me out, so the only way I could watch TV in that room was to sit with my back to the painting.

Every time I think of the movie Kingsman: The Secret Service, which at first I was enjoying, I get annoyed all over again by the ridiculously misogynistic ending.

In the case of the songs, kudos to the songwriters who created tunes so catchy they stick in your head for days.

As for the painting, I suppose that’s a case of to each his own. Though I don’t like clowns, clearly that family loved the painting enough to hang it in a place they would see it often.

Regarding the movie, the justifiable outcry about the ending when that film came out proves that sometimes artists who should know better still miss the mark. And it’s okay to let them know.

When I was teaching and coaching new writers, I often encouraged them not to put down a book if they didn’t like it. I suggested they keep reading, working to figure out why they didn’t care for the book. Were the characters over- or underdeveloped? Was the plot implausible? Was the dialogue clunky or absurd? In figuring out what they didn’t like, they would step closer to creating and defining their own storytelling voice and style.

So even when art is annoying, it has a purpose. It can teach us something. It can fire us up or inspire us to do better. If nothing else, it can give us a laugh or a great story to tell. Just another way art saves us.

By Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life blog

The post Is Art Ever Annoying? appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.

Does Art Keep Us Company?

Last week, I wrote about how art saves us. A reader e-mailed to share how listening to music every day kept her company during the isolation of COVID. She’s older and has health issues, so has spent much more time alone these past couple of years than she probably would have otherwise.

I asked myself whether art had ever kept me company, and this memory surfaced: I was nineteen and had unexpectedly been invited to travel across Europe for two months with someone I thought was a friend and her friend. Though I had no backpack, and no money to buy one, I said yes. I was living in London at the time, finishing up a study abroad program, and I had two small tote bags with me. I packed a few clothes and other necessary items, and off we went. Two of my essential items were my Walkman and three cassette tapes. I think they were Huey Lewis, Whitney Houston, and the soundtrack to Hello Dolly (yes, you read that right).

A couple of weeks into the trip, our threesome became a twosome. The other girls started leaving me out in various ways: going sightseeing without me, leaving me to eat alone in the youth hostels, choosing beds farther away from mine. But one of the hardest things to endure was how they ignored me on the long train rides required to get to the various cities we visited. During those rides, my company was my Walkman, and I listened to those three cassettes over and over again.

The music didn’t just fill my ears, providing the illusion of conversation. And it didn’t just distract me from the jokes they told about me behind their hands. It comforted me. The love songs reminded me there were plenty of people who cared for me and plenty more who someday would. The showstopper songs gave me courage and hope. The comic songs lifted me out of my melancholy and resentment. Sometimes the song would mirror perfectly the stunning view from outside the train window, and that was pure magic.

Looking back on life, I have loads of memories of books keeping me company during long waits or trying times. Of treasured pieces of art that have accompanied me on every move away from home. Of favorite movies that feel like a visit with an old friend every time I watch them.

Art doesn’t even need to be professional to keep us company. It can be a blanket crocheted by your grandmother that warms you when you’re ill. Or a song you wrote in high school that still brings you pleasure to play. Or a bouquet from a friend’s garden to ease your grief.

I’m grateful to my reader for the reminder of yet another way art saves us.

by Teresa R. Funke

If you like this post, please share and credit Teresa and Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative life blog

The post Does Art Keep Us Company? appeared first on Bursts of Brilliance.