BE CREATIVE

I CAN PLAY SO FAST AND LOOSE with facts and numbers; I could be a politician or tele-evangelist, but I’m neither. There’s an anecdote I’ve heard a few times, the actual numbers quoted are fluid but within my loose-fitting margin-of-error.

It goes like this: A teacher asks a kindergarten class, “How many of you are artists?” Roughly 100% raise their hand. Another teacher asks a seventh-grade class the same question, less than 10% raise a hand of affirmation. WHAT HAPPENS? WHAT ARE WE DOING TO KIDS?

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up. ”

— Pablo Picasso

“The child is the first artist. Out of the material around him he creates a world of his own. The prototypes of the forms which he devises exist in life, but it is the thing which he himself makes that interests him, not its original in nature. His play is his expression. But as the child ages: Imagination surrenders to the intellect; emotion gives place to knowledge. Gradually the material world shuts in about us until it becomes for us a hard, inert thing, and no longer a living, changing presence, instinct with infinite possibilities of experience and feeling.” —1907, The Gate of Appreciation: Studies in the Relation of Art to Life by Carleton Noyes, Quote Page 29, Published by Houghton Mifflin, Boston, Massachusetts.

Arts District. Tulsa, Oklahoma

Here’s another illustration you may have heard: The young child of a college art professor asks his parent about her job as a teacher, “What do you do?” The parent, trying to couch the answer in kid-terms replies, “I teach people how to draw and paint,” to which the kid says, “Did they forget how?” Isn’t is cutely true that a young, unspoiled mind is creative, they know it and they assume everyone is—unless they’ve forgotten how.

I will go so far as to confess that I believe “creative” is a relative term but I also believe that the most variable (adjective) variable (noun) is courage. In other words, you have to be somewhat fearless to be creative, at least in spurts. That’s my experience anyway.

For several years, I served on the board of an arts organization based in New York City called International Arts Movement or IAM. As a part of my work with IAM, I also served as a “creative catalyst” for a version of the movement here in Oklahoma City. I cherish all of those experiences. During that time I met some powerfully creative people: fine artists, poets, musicians, actors, dancers, novelists, architects, anthropologists, comics, teachers, students, journalists, illustrators, writers, filmmakers, chefs, designers, photographers, songwriters and more.

I remember in my first meeting with the board. I was sitting next to the founder and renowned painter, Mako Fujimura. I tend to doodle in meetings, making little drawings that might resemble 60s psychedelic concert posters. This thought kept racing through my mind: “Don’t doodle! You’re sitting next to one of the finest artists in the world right now!”

Crazy thing though about hanging out with phenomenal artists; the really really good ones are rarely arrogant at all about their creativity. In fact, it was an environment that was much more encouraging than intimidating. They actually want to foster creativity and curiousity and dabbling—and maybe even doodling. During that time I made several trips a year to NYC for board meetings and conferences.

One of my favorite places to go in the city was a place called the Jazz Standard , a jazz club in a basement below a restaurant called BLUESMOKE, founded by legendary restaurant creative, Danny Meyer. One night, at the Jazz Standard the guest artist was a pianist named Helen Sung. She was amazing. Then, lo & behold, I got to the IAM conference the next day, and there is Helen Sung herself. We had a wonderful visit. She was delightful, interesting and interested; the ideal conversationalist.

Recently, My Amazing-Missus and I checked out a fairly new jazz club in Tulsa called “Duet”. I had read about the place and its programming director Jeff Sloan. While we were enjoying some fine and creative dishes before the show started, Jeff stopped by our table to visit with us. I told him the club reminded me of the Jazz Standard; he said that it was one of the models they looked to when creating Duet. I highly recommend you visit Duet soon.

So, is this a post about creativity, a post about jazz clubs, a post where I get to drop names and act like a big shot, a post where I reflect on how much I love being in the midst of creative endeavors, a post encouraging everyone to muster the courage to create, a post where I lay down a bunch of words so I can call myself a “writer”, or a post remembering what used to be and looking forward to what might be? YES! Yes, it is every one of those things.

Want to play along? Up for a challenge? Why not squeeze the creative fruit and see if the juices flow? Doodle, draw, write a simple poem, go to a museum or art exhibit, go for a walk and take pictures (you probably have a camera in your pocket right now built in to that phone/calculator/calendar/flashlight/etc. Or write something.

Here, let me throw out a challenge; a prompt, as an idea for writing something. Sometimes that’s all it takes to get started. Below, I will include the lyrics to The Beatles' “Penny Lane”. Read them through a few times, listen to the song a few times. Don't worry much about the meanings of the lyrics. This is just a prompt. Now grab a pen and paper and write about your "Penny Lane". Everyone has one. Remember it? Write about what is "in your ears and in your eyes" as you ponder the street(s) where you grew up.

I would love to see what you write. Please send your essay to me: hey.pops.hey@gmail.com.

Next Post: Pops' Penny Lane, a.k.a. Quincy Avenue.

PENNY LANE
Lennon and McCartney

In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to know
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello

On the corner is a banker with a motorcar
The little children laugh at him behind his back
And the banker never wears a mack In the pouring rain, very strange

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies I sit, and meanwhile back

In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
And in his pocket is a portrait of the queen He likes to keep his fire engine clean
It's a clean machine

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
A four of fish and finger pies In summer, meanwhile back

Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway

In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim
And then the fireman rushes in From the pouring rain, very strange

Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies I sit, and meanwhile back
Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies

Penny Lane

Beyond Underwear

“There are three responses to a piece of design – yes, no, and WOW! Wow is the one to aim for.”

— Milton Glaser

eames chairs

In my last blog post, “Let’s Talk Underwear”, I attempted to show the importance of design at a most basic level. If you’re a designer of Ralph Lauren’s notoriety and scale, how do you come into the studio one day and say, “We’re going to design a pair of men’s boxer shorts so amazing it will be worthy of our signature polo player embroidered on the garment.” I guess it’s the attention to detail.

Now, thinking bigger: is there anything we see, use, play with or consume (afterall we are “consumers”) that has not been designed?

Design fascinates me. Because, it is built of some of my favorites things: inspiration, ideas, creativity, motivation, trial, error, success, failure, beauty, function and simplicity.

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“Design is so simple. That’s why it’s so complicated.”

— Paul Rand

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In addition to mentioning underwear in the last post, I made a glancing reference to the #2 pencil, specifically the Ticonderogo Dixon. Look at the beauty and complexity of its design! A wooden shaft hollowed and filled with lead, just the right lead to make a #2. Shaped on a lathe and cut to a hexagon so it won’t roll off the desk and comfortable in the hand. Made of wood that can be sharpened extending its use. With an eraser on the other end, because stuff happens.

Let’s think about ultimate design—big C, Creation. Everything we know about the creative process and the inspiration behind it we know from the Creation process. Some will think me narrow-minded because I believe in Divine Creation. Frankly, I see myself as being so open-minded that I believe I am creative because I am made in the image of the Creator. 

There is so much to learn here when you dream on this scale. Let’s take a look at just one element of design: integrity. For certain, one of the elements of great design is integrity. Here’s the test: It is what it purports to be, it delivers what it promises, it is honest and reliable.

How does Creation show the integrity of design and the Designer? Consider a banana. Have you ever peeled a banana and found anything but banana inside? This wonderful, self-packaged, portable fruit is well-designed for a number of reasons, but the one we’re considering right now is its integrity. It promises to be a banana and it is—every single time.

Just a suggestion or two: 1. Have a banana today. 2. Pay attention today to the design of the things that are a part of your life. Imagine the design process of the designer behind it.

The Canvas

Think broadly about the idea of a "canvas", something you would do art on. IT could be an actual canvas, a board, a piece of paper, the side of a building, a boxcar in a rail yard, any blank slate. I have this theory that sometimes the canvas matters more than others. For example, I was invited recently to contribute to a project--a creative collaboration. It is a book that will pass from artist to artist, creative to creative, and each person will make an entry of sorts. This canvas matters. I didn't want to make a mess of it. I thought about trying a sketch, or maybe a watercolor, but decided to write something. This is what I wrote:

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DOES THE CANVAS MATTER? Maybe it shouldn't but it does. When I was handed this book, this "creative collaboration", I thought, "I'm not worthy", especially for page two, right behind one of Molly Hennesy's wonder-full drawings. This canvas matters; for some reason.

There was a day when we got our coffee at diners in heavy porcelain mugs. Maybe we would have a piece of pie from the lighted display case. We occupied our hands and minds (at some semi-conscious level) by doodling on a napkin. Now we get it at Starbucks® in a paper cup while diddling on a smart phone.

Were those paper napkins potentially a valuable canvas: where dreams were sketched, where a poem was written, where a song lyric was begun, where a young girl tried out the surname of her current boyfriend paired with her first name?

Not long ago, my Amazing-Missus was visiting with a sister-in-law of Woody Guthrie. YES, that Woody Guthrie. We were in Tulsa for the grand opening of the Woody Guthrie Center. Woody's sister-in-law was telling how Woody would come to visit and was constantly writing on little scraps of paper, like the backs of envelopes. She said that when he would leave, she would gather them all up and throw them in the trash. She had no idea that at some time people would buy tickets to come to a museum to see scraps of paper like the one where he wrote the lyrics to "This Land Is Your Land."

Writing in my own journals can be cathartic for me, but the paper in that journal, the pen and ink used to write the entry, and even the words themselves don't have much value to anyone else. But sometimes, if I'm writing for something like this book, I'm more careful of the choice of words, my penmanship, and the message. It's because, to me at least, the canvas matters; sometimes.

Think about this: if I asked you to write a word on a napkin while we were sitting in a diner having coffee and pie, what word would you write? Now if I said, if you'll choose a word to have tattooed on your body, I'll pay for the tattoo. What word would you choose.

Diner napkin. Your own human flesh. Does the canvas matter?

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If you would like to keep up with this project, there is a page on Facebook® SKETCHBOOK CREATIVE COLLAB.

Exploring The Deeper Places

Beethoven was only 56 when he died, but the last decade of his life may have been his most prolific as a composer. Here’s the amazing part to me: he was DEAF during this time. How do you write music you can’t hear?! It must come from a deeper place.

Woody Allen; (put aside for a second any judgements on his relationship proclivities) the man is a comic genius. He has written, directed, and/or starred in like 40 movies. He’s 79 and still at it. He has a movie in theatres now.

In a recent interview, Allen was asked how he manages to make so many movies. “I’m an imperfectionist,” he said. When asked about his being so prolific at this stage of his life: “Well, I am 80 in a few months. Who knows what I can count on? My parents lived long, but that’s not a guarantee of anything. It’s too late to really reinvent oneself. All I can do is try to do good work so that people can say, ‘In his later years, in his last years, he did some of his best work.' Great.’”

Doug Manning is my mentor/therapist/friend. Doug wrote his latest book in his 80s. It’s called, The Back Nine: Life Beyond Retirement. My favorite line from the book, “Aging is inevitable. Getting old is a choice.” 

Wooden Boat Shop in Seattle (photo by Dave Fuller)

Doug speaks of the importance of having a hobby before you retire. As it turns out, it is also important to have a creative pursuit. Maybe they're one in the same. People who do pursue creativity, science now affirms, are happier and healthier. 

I asked Doug why this is so important. He explained that as we age and maybe retire, our world gets smaller. Our network of friends and family usually dwindles. “Without a hobby, or creative outlet or a cause you can give yourself to, your world continues to shrink.”

So if it’s so important that we have a hobby or creative pursuit, how do we make that happen. It seems like most people don’t consider themselves “creative”. I disagree. I believe we all are creative or have the capacity to be. Maybe it’s that our culture steals it from us.

Maybe you’ve heard this old anecdote: The young child of an art teacher asks, “Mom, what do you do?” The mom wanting to keep the answer basic replies, “I teach people how to draw.” The child replies, “Did they forget how?”

I’ve heard that if you were to ask a kindergarten class, “How many of you are artists?” every kid in the class will raise their hand. As you ask that question in each grade in ascending order, the percentage will go down. By the time you reach the senior class, only a few, if any, will raise their hand. You could deduce then that one of the effects of education is teaching people that they are not creative, or at least not artistic.

Billy Collins, former U.S. poet laureate, and my favorite poet, says it seems to be the objective of every junior high English teacher to make kids hate poetry.

So maybe the reason that taking up a creative endeavor like poetry or painting, or writing, or dancing, or photography is so daunting is because we’ve been lead to believe we’re not adequate to the task.

In Four Quartets, T. S. Eliot declaims, “Old men should be explorers.”

I’m going to take Eliot’s advice and explore the possibilities of hobbies and creative pursuits for us men-of-a-certain-age. Because there's apparently more to it than meets the eye or ear.

I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. What are you doing in this area? What did your father or grandfather do?

To be continued...