A Creative Mama’s Story

When it comes to your life, your family, and your art, what is negotiable and what is non-negotiable?

Many things in our lives are non-negotiable. They are the bottom line things such as a roof over our heads, sunlight, bread, water, our children, sleep, and food.

But, there are also many things in our lives that have become non-negotiable because we are used to them, we don’t question them, and we don’t evaluate and define our priorities. In the realm of motherhood these are usually things we think we have to do to be a “good” mom: carpools, making our own baby food, having a kitchen floor that you could eat off of, etc. The non-negotiable will be different for each of us. But, there are things basic to our survival that will be on all of our lists. Abraham Maslow developed the Hierarchy of Needs in the form of a pyramid placing survival and physiological needs at the base and esteem and actualization at the top.

You can view the source of this information and see a picture of the pyramid on Wikipedia.

I agree with Maslow’s theory. I don’t pretend to understand the intricacies of it or the research behind it, but it makes sense. And most sensible people will make the assumption that artistic expression and creative fulfillment should be placed at the top of the pyramid in the realms of esteem or actualization.

However, for the sake of art, I am going to make the outrageous argument that we give ourselves permission to move our creativity as close to the base of the pyramid as possible.

When I am not creating, I feel it in my body. The same way you can physically feel the loss of love during a painful break up. For an artist the need to create and share her art is a physiological need. She must create and express herself in order to feel fully alive. When I am not creating, expressing, or challenging my skills and craft as a writer, actress, or director, I feel physically numb. I call this living in the “Drone Zone”. Now, I can get used to this numbness and live in the “Drone Zone”. At some low points in my life, I’ve done that successfully for several years, but that isn’t living. It is barely surviving.

Consider Joan’s monologue in Act VI of George Bernard Shaw’s Saint Joan. She is speaking to her judges who have given her the choice between signing a confession and living in their dungeons for the rest of her life or being burned at the stake. She says:

Light your fire …
You think that life is nothing but not being stone dead. It is not the bread and water I fear: I can live on bread: when have I asked for more? It is no hardship to drink water if the water be clean. Bread has no sorrow for me, and water no affliction. But to shut me from the light of the sky and the sight of the fields and flowers; to chain my feet so that I can never again ride with the soldiers nor climb the hills; to make me breathe foul damp darkness, and keep from me everything that brings me back to the love of God when your wickedness and foolishness tempt me to hate Him: all this is worse than the furnace in the Bible that was heated seven times. I could do without my warhorse; I could drag about in a skirt, I could let the banners and the trumpets and the knights and soldiers pass me and leave me behind as they leave the other women, if only I could still hear the wind in the trees, the larks in the sunshine, the young lambs crying through the healthy frost, and the blessed, blessed church bells that send my angel voices floating to me on the wind. But without these things I cannot live; and by your wanting to take them away from me, or from any human creature, I know that your counsel is of the devil and that mine is of God.

I love that monologue. It gives me goose bumps.

So, let’s say, our artistic inspiration and creative expression are to us what the “wind in the trees” and the “blessed, blessed church bells” are to Joan. Without them, we are not alive. So often I hear people say they are afraid to take a dance class or claim space in the house to set up their easel and paints because they don’t want to short change their children or take time away from their families. Of course we don’t want to short change our children. But let’s consider this, how fun is it to live with a mommy who is in the “Drone Zone”?

When a Creative Mama is not creating for the sake of being a “good” mom, she is not expressing her gifts or sharing our best self with those she loves. Consider the legacy of raising a daughter who has a kitchen floor clean enough to eat off of or raising a daughter who gives herself permission to express herself with color, music, or poetry. We teach by example. Our children soak us up like sponges every day. Living in the “Drone Zone” is a poor example to give them. It is short changing our children.

Here is what I am suggesting. Build your own pyramid and put your creativity as close to the bottom as possible. While you’re at it teach your daughters to build their own pyramids. You will have to make choices, re-evaluate your priorities, and probably negotiate for some help, but it is worth it. Make your art non-negotiable.

Wow. I just read through that last post. It has been a long time since I checked in here. Part of the reason I don’t check in more often is because I feel like I have to write a lengthy informative - somewhat insightful - post each and every time I drop by.

But, hello, Kirsten! Wake up! Aren’t you theo one who gets to make the rules about your blog?

 Yes. I am.

Well…

I’m talking ot myself again. In spite of popular opinion, that’s actually a good sign because it means I might actually listen. And, if I listen, I might be able to make a little shift that will allow me to simply check in and say, “Hi.”

I am posting some pictures of the last show I directed. These are pictures of Columbia Entertainment Company’s production of Strange Snow by Stephen Metcalfe which performed earlier this month. I loved working on this show. Here are my director’s notes from the program which will explain a little bit about why I loved it:

I am very pleased that the Columbia Entertainment Company has chosen Stephen Metcalfe’s “Strange Snow” as their inaugural production for Stage II. The play’s focus on the personal traumas endured by veterans and their families after wartime is particularly apt today. As a society we are just learning about the psychological scars our veterans carry home and how these emotional wounds affect not only the soldiers who bear them, but also their families and loved ones.

As the daughter of a Vietnam War veteran, I am honored to bring this real and human drama to the CEC stage. In spite of the fact that most of my father’s wartime actions live unspoken in his memory, the ghosts of those memories continue to haunt him. I hope that someday he can find the peace that has eluded him since his return home more than 35 years ago.

“Strange Snow” is ultimately about the hope that we can learn from our history how to heal our present time; that we can come to better understand how to help our soldiers and their loved ones heal from the violence of war; that we can find a way to make peace with the sacrifices made, voluntarily or involuntarily, for our country; and that we can honor the grief of losing friends and family members who were not lucky enough to return home.

“Strange Snow” tells the story of two Vietnam War veterans who are struggling through their present to make peace their past. Megs wears his scars on the outside, while David conceals his scars on the inside. Martha is David’s sister whose own dreams have become secondary to David’s silent suffering. While David uses alcohol to self-medicate and to keep him numb to the violence of the war, Martha stays by his side maintaining the home where their childhood dreams and disappointments stare at them from the photographs on the walls. David and Martha have negotiated a silent coexistence, which is shattered when David’s violent past comes back all too alive the day Megs shows up at their door.

Here are some pictures: (Eventually I will figure out how to do this.)