Episode 5: The Creative Process of the Dandelion

9/18/21
The Growing Creative Podcast
S1E5: The Creative Process of the Dandelion

Resource Links:

-  "The Creative Process of the Dandelion" Video by Jane Boutwell
-  Tessa Steenbergen - My videographer friend mentioned
- Every Moment Holy Prayer Book

 

Jane Boutwell is an artist & creative coach based in Atlanta, Georgia. She loves to nurture and empower others to pursue their creative callings.

"I am an artist with an inquisitive mind, a heart connected to nature and a soul yearning towards God…a child of dirt and dance…a beauty bringing blessing writer… a poetic painter and potter.

Starting with mud pies as a child in the backyard, my creativity includes tactile, intuitive, and deeply-in-touch-with-nature ways of being in the world. I see myself as an apprentice in God’s art studio of the natural world that is full of metaphor, imprinted with the character of the Maker.

It is my passion to share the shimmering beauty and deep truths I find in the creative medium that seems most fitting. Those creative expressions include gardening, quilting, writing, painting, sketching, ceramics, dancing, creative coaching, podcasting, and family life with my husband and four children in Tucker/Atlanta, Georgia."

Join the email list to learn more about special offerings : https://www.janeboutwellstudio.com/contact
Free Sketchbooking resource here: https://view.flodesk.com/pages/5f7b3597322e6ae12d5c774e

Follow @janeboutwellstudio on IG for more.

Transcript

In our last episode, I talked to some about being a beginner and the courage that it takes and reframing our thoughts of the, the shame we sometimes associate with being a beginner and to one of acknowledging the courage it takes and the boldness it takes and how being a beginner and allowing ourselves to be playful is so important in the creative process. Well, today,

I'm going to share with you a poem that I wrote and kind of some thoughts around that having to do with the creative process. And I want to tell you for starters, how funny it is that that I'm going to be sharing this poem, because I realized this year that I had been saying for years, at least a decade, if not more,

all my life, probably I've been thinking and saying, I think I'm a poet. I think there's a poet inside of me and I, it just hasn't come out yet. I think there's a poet in me. And I finally realized this year, this in the spring that I had not been practicing what I preached with regards to creativity and being willing to show up and do it messy as a beginner and just get started because with regard to poetry,

I had felt like maybe I had an inner poet, but it just hadn't come out. Well, I realized it hadn't come out because I hadn't let it out. I am deeply moved by poems that I love, and I really could care less for the poems that don't strike me. I don't like poems that I don't love. I know that sounds,

that's kind of a funny thing to say, but I think, you know what I mean, it's a love, hate relationship between poetry with me. I really don't care at all for the poems that don't deeply resonate with me. And so I think I realized that I was unwilling to be a beginner with poetry. I was unwilling to write beginner, amateur poems that I probably wasn't going to like,

I mean, I've learned instruments, I've played guitar. And there's just a point where you're, you'd rather turn on the music and listen to the beautiful guitar playing music that you love instead of listening to yourself, plotting along and playing poorly. I think that that's how my attitude was about poetry. I just couldn't bear to put out the effort and know that it was going to fall short,

but isn't that the case with all of our creative work, we have this idea of how good it could be that sparks us towards creation. And then we start in, we realized there's no way it's going to be measuring up to what we would to see it become to that ideal, that inner vision. That's moving us towards this thing, this creation we realize it's not it's,

it's not going to be that it's not going to come close and then it's so easy to give up. Well, I finally decided I must practice what I preach and I must dive in and write poems, even if they're, even if they're beginner attempts. So I am in the spirit of humility and encouraging you and to being playful and a beginner. I'm going to share this poem that I wrote this spring that,

or maybe it was right as it was becoming summer. That is, you know, my, one of my beginner attempts at poetry and it's called the creative process of the dandelion. I was journaling about some things I was kind of wrestling with in my creative life and was just given the picture of the dandy lion. And I just couldn't get it out of my mind.

And I, it was amazing how it out. It was right at the time when the Danny Lyons were starting to come into to grow everywhere. You, however were baby people didn't want them. Some people are, you know, kind of anti dandelion, but as I've discovered, the health benefits of dandelion root tea with its ability to detox. And they're just,

you know, there there's a real beauty and about the simplicity of the dandy lion. And I spent a lot of time just watching them, noticing them and trying to sink inward and find what, what was that picture of the dandy line? What was it saying? What did it have as a metaphor to my creative process that I was working through? What did it have to say?

And this poem is my response to that. The creative process of the dandy lion shining bright like a sun, but so close to the ground, bold humility, brave yellow in a sea of green determination wedged between cracks in the concrete, brave, and the blooming vibrant with healing properties in her roots, then a journey N-word leafy Bracks tuck the fading flower seeds of something deeper form in secret faded remains of pedals shrivel,

then fall away the sacrifice toward a more generous flourishing. When the old falls away a pale newborn Tuft is barely visible, just enough to give a hint of hope, a hope that is needed for the slow, quiet work N-word formation. While the stem creeps upward. The green on envelope unfolds to reveal a cloud bright to behold. Each seed becomes gradually articulated was star shaped parachutes,

fully extending finding their place in the galaxy like globe provocative moment. Each seed stands on point crowned with a delicate Starburst, a vulnerability with the power of flight, ready to send them a sea of abundance, a drift on the breeze, each an idea, looking for home. So some of the things that I wanted to share about the, the ideas behind this poem and how it connects to the creative process is just the fact that what I was learning around the time is that there's that moment where you bravely kind of show this creation that you've made.

And I think of it like that, you know, the yellow blooming beginnings of the dandelion, it's courageous to show something that you've done, but then sometimes those first pieces that you've made, sometimes I call them seed pieces because they're the beginning of something more you're as you're making it, that's all you think you're making the complete thing. And then once you've made it,

you don't, our future creativity is always kind of built on the things we've made in the past. And so there's some times that you've made something and there's more work to do on it. It's it's, it can become something bigger that oftentimes in order to become something bigger, there's an inner work. There's kind of a turning inward and our world with social media we're.

So in the habit of, you know, feeling like we need to show up with something new to share every day and, and the creative process is on display for everyone to see. And we feel like we need to be able to put words to it and explain, and have it all outward and ready to show. And that's such an unrealistic expectation.

There's a lot of the creative process that is the subconscious working out of things in internally. That's hard to put words to and is certainly not ready to be discussed or shared or put out into the light. You know, as the yellow bloom of the dandelion turns into the seeds that can then spread in such a bigger way. It first curls back inward,

all those yellow pedals curl back in and closes up around itself, tucked in, in the dark inside there. And there's this time it takes time. You cannot rush it. If you've ever found a dandy lion bloom that has done that inward work a little bit, but you see the white Tufts and say, you want to blow it. You know,

maybe you've got a child with, you wants to make that wish on the dandy lion, but it's not a full open circle puff yet. You can't blow those seeds. They're not ready to go. They have not reached maturity and it just needs more time. And another thing that happens if you're watching is those once blazing, bright, yellow pedals that were so important at the beginning of this idea,

process, this blooming flower, while those shrivel up, they turn brown and they fall away. There's there's times in our creative process where there's things that served an important purpose, but as the next iteration or the, the creative work goes on through a maturing process and become something bigger. There's certain parts of that that we have to let go of. I have a friend who's who does documentary filmmaking.

And one of the things that she said when she was giving me some tips as I've been, you know, being an amateur in that realm a little bit for my own work, she said, oh, the one of the biggest lessons they taught us in school was that you have to be willing to kill your darlings. Oh, that sounds terrible. But I've just really realized what she means.

As we create things, they do become our darlings. We love this part of this painting. Or as we shot the film for this, this video, we loved how that part turned out or that scene turned out. But in order to bring it to its fullest realization, to make the most impact, we have to have our hands open and be willing to let go of many things that we love to begin with.

Like that yellow dandelion with its blazing yellow bloom at the beginning, if it's not willing to undergo the change, that's necessary to mature into something bigger. It can never let it seed spread far and wide at the end. So we have to be willing to kill our darlings and let those yellow pedals shrivel and fall off and give that time. And the dark that's necessary,

that, that quiet waiting time, while things mature and become. Now, I want to just say one word about that. Sometimes it's easy to kind of take a cop-out I've done that. So I'm preaching to the choir here. When we feel a little bit afraid to let something become what it needs to be. And so we tell ourselves that we're not working on it yet because there that's the inner work that's happening.

And we're just letting it kind of sit in the back and brew and stew. And sometimes that's true, but we need to be faithful to showing up on our end, doing what we need to do to be sure that it's having that we're ready for when this thing is ready to become the next stage. So that is having a creative habit, whether it's whatever applies to your creative process,

whether that's keeping a sketchbook and you show up every day, whether you're in the creative season, where things are going to bloom out and the next the seeds are here and ready to burst out and drift off, you know, or whether it's a quiet season and not much is happening. Show up every day for at least five or 10 minutes and get,

put your pencil to the paper practice that I find very important is morning pages. Julia Cameron recommends this in her book, the artist way where you write three pages every day. And Ann Lamont also recommends that in her book about writing the bird by bird, even if you're not in a writing season and you don't do more than those three pages by showing up consistently and journaling through the messy middle and those processes that are happening inside,

you're ready for when the moment comes that it's ready to transform and become the ideas, ready to come to fruition and be borne out. You're there with pencil in hand working in your medium. If you're a photographer, it's taking those photos every day, just so that when the moment comes, when you're ready to jump off into the next thing, you've got your tools,

you've kept your skills going and you're ready to take it where it needs to go. Sometimes we're afraid to bring things to their next stage because we sense a, an inner knowing that it won't live up to our ideals. I spoke about this at the beginning and closing. I want to leave you all with a prayer that that's just meant a whole lot to me,

and really taught my heart about the creative process. It's from the book. Every moment, holy that's published by the rabbit room, press highly recommend them. The prayers, the liturgies are written by Douglas Kane McCalvi. And the one that I'm going to read a small excerpt from is from the liturgy for those who work in wood and stone and metal and clay,

you can look that liturgy up and read it online. Even if you don't buy the book. And I highly recommend you do. It's a beautiful, beautiful liturgy and whole I'm going to read you from a part at the end to all who traffic in the crafting of such elements here. These tidings, those hours and labors are not lost. What you have worked is more than it now seems the economy of creation is back-loaded and sits on Springs.

What you have made will one day be unveiled, unleashed, take wing or glow with glory. Coursing from that cracked Chrysalis, you had fashioned and defiance Of the deep shadows of this age. And in that turning of the page, we will raise our voices in chorus and say, in defiance of the curse, we have been rehearsing all along the new creation in the making of these things.

It can be so easy to feel like what we have made. Doesn't live up to the idea in our, in our mind that originally inspired us and it can just defeat us, but are we willing? Are we willing to do the work and trust that that it can communicate more than what we see in its finished form? That someone can sense the spirit that we made it in that dream we had,

as we were making, it can not transfer through it can at one day become more and more than we ever imagined. I love this love how this prayer, you know, it talks about a cracked Chrysalis, how sometimes the work that we make, we feel like just barely scratching the surface of what we're feeling and trying to express. And maybe that's true,

but are you willing to do it anyway? Are you willing to let it be a Chrysalis that one day could crack open and more could come of it than you imagined. It might be that your work inspires someone else. And then they're able to bring it even more into fruition of your original idea. Are you willing to just be a part of creativity as a whole and let your work,

offer it with your hands open to become more than you imagined and accept that it, it might not be quite what you hoped, but do it anyway. It's so important to do it. Anyway, we are rehearsing the new creation and the defiance of the curse. When we are bringing our creativity into the world, in all its forms, whether it's the blazing,

bold yellow with humility, low to the ground, like the beginning of that dandy lion or whether it's a slow, quiet work that took a lot of time to gradually like the seeds become articulated each like a little star in a universe, ideas and thoughts fully formed, maybe in the form of a book, a finished full idea that could then spread out on a sea of abundance,

a drift on the breeze, each an idea, looking for home. Are you willing to let your ideas out into the world, see them through the maturing process and let them go. I hope that you will. Thanks for spending your time with me this today. As you're listening, I'd love to hear what your thoughts are on this. If you,

if you feel like you struggle with some of the things I have in my creativity, I'd love to hear from you anytime, whether it's through my email from my website, Jane Boutwell studio, or whether it's by leaving a review, I'd love to hear back from you. So that can be more of a conversation. Thanks again for your time today until next time,

be well, have courage and keep crying, creative.