Thursday, August 20, 2009

Safely along the Artist's Way

Remember how much I love synchronicity? Well, the universe has been working overtime, it seems, to help me out along my way. Over the past month, I kept hearing and reading about this book, The Artist's Way. The church I've been visiting has a group just finishing the book, it has popped up in my cyber-browsing repeatedly, and it just seems to be everywhere I look. From experience, I know that when the universe speaks to me, I'd better listen so she doesn't have to clobber me over the head. So, I checked out the book from the library and set it in my TBR stack. Then I happened upon a group of bloggers getting ready to work their way through it together. Needless to say, I opened the book right away and got to work before the universe, in her infinite compassion, sent copies of The Artist's Way raining down upon my head.

So, this is week one. I have been doing my 3 Morning Pages of stream-of-consciousness type writing for three days now. I love doing this first thing in the morning, which is strange because I am so not a morning person. I feel like starting the day by acknowledging and paying attention to my craft helps me take myself more seriously as a writer.

Anyway, this week is about recovering a sense of safety. When I was growing up, we moved around quite a bit. Not just move from one part of town to another, though we did that also, but moving from one country and culture to another. I was shy and insecure, and always had a hard time making friends. From a very early age, I took refuge in my books. No matter where we were or what sort of chaos was swirling through the household, I could always escape to the world created in whatever book I was reading. It was my private hiding space that I could carry with me wherever I went. Even when in a situation where I couldn't read, I could still imagine myself back into the hiding space of whatever book I was reading.

Books are still my safety blanket. There are books on my bookshelf that I will probably never read again, but I keep them because they provided a safe space for me during various tempestuous periods in my life. Seeing them reminds me of how far I've come. There are books that I can open and reread a million times and still lose mysef in that hiding space. That hiding space is what led me to writing. That safe place that lies on the edge of reality.

Where is your hiding place? What makes you feel safe amidst the chaos?

1 comment:

  1. I loved to read too.. as a child, I escaped reality in the pages of Heidi & Little Women.. books which still sit on my bookshelf..
    maybe an artists date could be to a second hand bookshop... I did that last time and had alot of fun losing myself for an hour or so.

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