Savoring the Flavor of Creation
Creativity is a divine gift that should be relished and cultivated no matter what. Be inspired as Sapphire takes you on her personal journey to hone her talent in the face of adversity. By Sapphire Soul.
The power of sex is also the power to create, and because these creative energies course through Beltane, it is the perfect time to join one or even several creative workshops that seem to sprout all over during summer. There are so many to choose from according to your interests: you can attend painting lessons, acting classes, voice/musical tutorials, usually for a reasonable fee. If you are more business-minded, it’s the perfect time to learn candle making, flower arrangement, or even cooking!
But if you’re too embarrassed, let me tell you a story. A few years ago I attended a poetry workshop. For me, poetry is literature condensed; and since I’ve always loved to write but had so little time, it seemed to me the perfect form of writing to dabble in. So I submitted a couple of my pieces two weeks in advance for review: a work in progress that I needed feedback on, and another poem I felt was finished that didn’t seem too bad.
The Big Day
The venue was far. Waking up at 5 AM on a Saturday to get to a pick up point some 3 hours away is not a very fun thing to do for someone with insomnia. But that I did, and just hoped it was worth it.
And it seemed to be at the outset: the place was exquisite – an art gallery with manicured lawns away from the noise and pollution of the highway. It was an artist’s sanctuary and perfect for the workshop. After the initial introductions, the program was underway. The three panelists were all widely published, multi-awarded, and held respectable positions in literary circles. The participants all had different backgrounds, and in terms of poetry, some were more experienced than others.
Poem after poem was recited and critiqued. Everyone had their say on what they liked and disliked, and offered suggestions to improve the piece as necessary. After a while, it was my turn. At least it was my poems’ turn because the authors were to be kept confidential until the last minute.
As expected, my unfinished work received several grimaces before the participants composed themselves and narrated their opinions in a more… politically correct way. “This looks like it was written by someone having a quarter life crisis” and “The poem is very repetitive” and “It reminds me of a poem written a lot better by someone else…”
Which is fine, really, it saved me from bashing their faces in with "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THAT CRAP?! Well… barely fifteen minutes." Ha ha ha well it was unfinished after all, that’s why I wanted their comments to see in which direction I could move on with it. So in reply I reiterated how much I truly appreciated their comments (or how they took the time to be so carefully polite about it).
After a while, my second poem was reviewed. For me it was a finished piece, and I only wanted feedback on how people would receive it. Sure enough, I got it: “It asks more questions than answers anything” “This is too violent” and the clincher from one of our esteemed panelists: “This is almost an example of how NOT to write poetry.”
I almost gagged. How could something I like be so far from the norm? It’s like I was in a group of Monet or Van Gogh understudies when all I wanted to learn was how to make graffiti so I could have fun with the pedestrian lanes back home. Like I was happily humming a McDonald’s jingle at the Conservatory. Was I in the wrong place?
And Our Lesson For Today Is…
After thanking them profusely for their insights, I knew I had a lot of thinking to do. So when I got home, I shredded my poems and after burning them to ashes I vowed never to write again. No, of course I’m kidding! Writing is an incurable disease. Once you get infected with the desire to write, that’s it. No amount of let downs will keep it down.
So the question remains: If the purpose of life, according to Wiccan tenets is to learn, what did I learn from all of this, aside from knowing that the work I’m already happy with is utter crap to people who set the standards on the craft I’m trying to learn? Was it all just a waste of time?
Perhaps the workshop itself is the lesson: a lesson to enjoy your chosen means to express your creative self, no matter what. Whether it is in painting, singing, or writing, the joy of creating something out your inner Goddess must be relished in full, and something that no one can take away.
So don’t be shy. Express the Goddess within and savor the gift of being able to create.
About the Author: SAPPHIRE SOUL is currently pursuing graduate studies in environmental science, and edits newsletters in her spare time. Because of her eclectic mix of beliefs ingrained since childhood, she sees no contradiction between Catholic and indigenous belief systems (as well as Wicca), and have found a way to seamlessly blend the two in her life. She's currently one of the editors of Manggagaway.
But if you’re too embarrassed, let me tell you a story. A few years ago I attended a poetry workshop. For me, poetry is literature condensed; and since I’ve always loved to write but had so little time, it seemed to me the perfect form of writing to dabble in. So I submitted a couple of my pieces two weeks in advance for review: a work in progress that I needed feedback on, and another poem I felt was finished that didn’t seem too bad.
The Big Day
The venue was far. Waking up at 5 AM on a Saturday to get to a pick up point some 3 hours away is not a very fun thing to do for someone with insomnia. But that I did, and just hoped it was worth it.
And it seemed to be at the outset: the place was exquisite – an art gallery with manicured lawns away from the noise and pollution of the highway. It was an artist’s sanctuary and perfect for the workshop. After the initial introductions, the program was underway. The three panelists were all widely published, multi-awarded, and held respectable positions in literary circles. The participants all had different backgrounds, and in terms of poetry, some were more experienced than others.
Poem after poem was recited and critiqued. Everyone had their say on what they liked and disliked, and offered suggestions to improve the piece as necessary. After a while, it was my turn. At least it was my poems’ turn because the authors were to be kept confidential until the last minute.
As expected, my unfinished work received several grimaces before the participants composed themselves and narrated their opinions in a more… politically correct way. “This looks like it was written by someone having a quarter life crisis” and “The poem is very repetitive” and “It reminds me of a poem written a lot better by someone else…”
Which is fine, really, it saved me from bashing their faces in with "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THAT CRAP?! Well… barely fifteen minutes." Ha ha ha well it was unfinished after all, that’s why I wanted their comments to see in which direction I could move on with it. So in reply I reiterated how much I truly appreciated their comments (or how they took the time to be so carefully polite about it).
After a while, my second poem was reviewed. For me it was a finished piece, and I only wanted feedback on how people would receive it. Sure enough, I got it: “It asks more questions than answers anything” “This is too violent” and the clincher from one of our esteemed panelists: “This is almost an example of how NOT to write poetry.”
I almost gagged. How could something I like be so far from the norm? It’s like I was in a group of Monet or Van Gogh understudies when all I wanted to learn was how to make graffiti so I could have fun with the pedestrian lanes back home. Like I was happily humming a McDonald’s jingle at the Conservatory. Was I in the wrong place?
And Our Lesson For Today Is…
After thanking them profusely for their insights, I knew I had a lot of thinking to do. So when I got home, I shredded my poems and after burning them to ashes I vowed never to write again. No, of course I’m kidding! Writing is an incurable disease. Once you get infected with the desire to write, that’s it. No amount of let downs will keep it down.
So the question remains: If the purpose of life, according to Wiccan tenets is to learn, what did I learn from all of this, aside from knowing that the work I’m already happy with is utter crap to people who set the standards on the craft I’m trying to learn? Was it all just a waste of time?
Perhaps the workshop itself is the lesson: a lesson to enjoy your chosen means to express your creative self, no matter what. Whether it is in painting, singing, or writing, the joy of creating something out your inner Goddess must be relished in full, and something that no one can take away.
So don’t be shy. Express the Goddess within and savor the gift of being able to create.
About the Author: SAPPHIRE SOUL is currently pursuing graduate studies in environmental science, and edits newsletters in her spare time. Because of her eclectic mix of beliefs ingrained since childhood, she sees no contradiction between Catholic and indigenous belief systems (as well as Wicca), and have found a way to seamlessly blend the two in her life. She's currently one of the editors of Manggagaway.© 2007 Manggagaway E-magazine. Articles may be distributed freely on the condition that all accreditation is acknowledged, no part is altered and this notice is attached and the website: http://manggagaway-central.blogspot.com is included. ~ Thank you
posted by Manggagaway @ 12:03 AM
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