Well, loves…
Artifice Season 10 is almost over! I know I’m a broken record, but I’m so in love with this project. It teaches me so much.
Yesterday, I recorded the final interview for Season 11. I can’t wait to start diving in with relistening to all 15 of these delicious episodes. And of course, Episode 200 is just around the corner! 🎉
There’s something so special about listening to a wonderful conversation from six months in the past. The familiarity of that time is gone, but not so long gone.
Six-months-ago is recent enough, I can recall the feeling of plenty of things. I can still conjure up a bit of detail.
…but it’s far enough way to feel like the past.
Season 10 will be the last season where Bear makes an appearance. It was weird to hear the ol’ guy as I relistened to the earlier episodes of this season, knowing we’d lose him before its end.
There’s something very mysterious about this particular juxtaposition of perspective. Again, not too close, not too far. And of course, it’s the exact same conversation both times, just experienced on different days, six months apart.
It’s a really interesting record to have. Things strike me on the relisten that I didn’t notice during the live conversation.
I always trust my gut as I take down notes from each episode, but I often wonder whether the same things would have made it into my notes one day after the original chat, three months later, tomorrow instead of today.
And the Deep Dive ritual adds critical layers.
Six months. Fifteen conversations, each experienced twice. Many pages of notes. Five essays…
I always say I don’t have a journaling practice, but what else would someone call this?
I feel it functioning so like a journal, but with collaborative elements. It’s infused with mentorship, among other salient things.
Zooming out on this season so far, my July Deep Dive “On Wandering” features wisdom from vocalist/activist Hale Baskin, Icelandic jazz bassist Birgir Stein, and underwater portrait photographer Kimber Greenwood.
These three conversations left me musing about the meandering nature of curiosity, “a propensity toward exploration” (including exploration through various mediums).
In the end, even “success” proves to be a moving target. Its definition evolves.
It’s no surprise to me that I’m drawn to this particular line through these three conversations. In some ways, I likely planted it in them. After all, it’s one of my favorite subjects!
And the open truth is I’m keenly focused on carving out my bespoke path. Exploration feels critical.
In August, I wrote “The Mediums We Name,” featuring author/crafter Lauren Zuniga, writer/director Kolby Fackrell, musician/educator Brian Casey.
As the title suggests, these conversations dig a bit deeper into the squiggly nature of medium. Which of our creative endeavors will we name “art?”
Like most things, it’s a question of perspective.
Today, November 9, I’m surprised to look back at the August essay and see the following declaration:
“It feels like a theme of the season is the exploration of our micro-mediums, the greater network (or…maybe it’s better conceptualized as a nest?) of practices culminating in our most-vibrant lives. Ever-evolving, as are we.”
I’ve absolutely forgotten having written that. But I hope I’m right. What a lovely idea!
And for September, it’s all about psychiatrist/author Matt Salmon, food photographer/cinematographer Amrita Singh, and London-based floral photographer Janne Ford.
What a gorgeous cluster of humans.
I titled the essay “Point Your Whole Life at It.”
This was just one month ago, but it feels like it’s been much, much longer. #weddingseason
Essay #3 lays out a hypothetical four-ingredient recipe for “a most vibrant creativity, a most abundant life”: imagination, intuition, discipline, and hope.
In very different ways, all three September guests point to these four traits as critical ingredients in their creative lives. I see all four in my story, too.
The self-acceptance in these stories comforts me immensely. It is a lighthouse to me.
The takeaway…
“Develop and trust an inner-knowing. Imagine a future, a vision, something that doesn’t yet exist. Apply discipline, give the best of what you have. Believe so hard in your vision that you’re willing to point your whole life at it.”
At minimum, this is the pep talk I needed to survive the subsequent six weeks.😅
But here I am. The 2024 wedding season is over, the UVU fall semester is coming to a close, my little team and I performed The Hallowed Wide for the third time, I’ve wrapped up recording for another season…
So, where are we today?
As I look at my notes from wonderful conversations with vocalist/educator Bailey Hinkley Grogan, biophilic designer/hair stylist Abby Shaner, and writer/actor/filmmaker Eriksen Dickens, I feel drawn to something new.
Maybe it’s a fifth ingredient? Maybe it’s another rabbit hole, entirely.
All three of these artists talked about the wild and chaotic sparks of their creativity.
Sidenote: Chaos is another of my favorite topics. 👀
Bailey’s words leave me full of wonder. She talks about learning to take up more space, showing up with more of herself, redefining outdated norms. There’s such grace and courage in all of it.
We may find ourselves as beautifully wild, emotionally unregulated children – profoundly sensitive, relentlessly expressive.
We sometimes spend our growing years learning to be a bit smaller, because we’re a little “too much.”
And we spend our adulthoods stretching all the way out again. Learning to train that spark into something more powerful.
I feel in-step with Bailey, here.
Of branching out to look for like-minded community, Bailey shares, “I met people who were emotional, and people who weren’t afraid of questioning their surroundings, being critical thinkers…and maybe dramatic.”
There is SO much power here, for me.
Bailey talks about claiming the deeper, truer functions of creativity (external validation fully aside)…
“[Singing] is something that is so deeply personal, it comes from this deep space in myself.”
Emotions seem to literally exit Bailey’s body through song. This is the power of expression.
Of creative community, she says “there shouldn’t be a competitiveness here. We should be cheering each other on. We should be giving each other opportunities. We should be allowing there to be space for all possibilities to occur.”
I couldn’t agree more. Art isn’t suited for zero-sum situations.
And my favorite, “when the spark comes, I grab it. And the spark always comes, because it’s so innately in your spirit.” 🔥
Abby talks about expression in a similar way:
“We all need that creative outlet, whether our [expressions] be very perfectly, beautifully-lined, and everything makes sense…or it’s just wild and chaotic, and it’s still beautiful. When it comes down to it, we’re all just trying to make it, to be creative, let it out, be weird, be not weird…we need it.”
I loved hearing Abby talking about noticing the chaotic beauty of the natural world. She mused about zooming in, in, in – on a square inch of forest floor, or the veins in a single leaf – then, zooming way out to see a whole tree line, or a sky.
It’s hard NOT to find things to notice. What a brilliant worldview. I’ve been thinking about this a lot.
I also love how Abby reflects on the symbiotic nature of her practices, the way they work together to imbue her life with a cohesive set of values.
To my delight, it’s this again: “the greater network of practices culminating in our most-vibrant lives.”
I love it!
Eriksen talks about the gift of childhood creativity, the way it helps us build our burgeoning confidence, agency, and selfhood.
Of taking on various creative projects he says, “I had this freedom to express myself, and that helped me to not only look at life through a different lens, but it helped me cultivate new perspectives, and new opinions…it gave me this very deep sense of fulfilment. It made me happy. It gave me that sense of feeling content at a young age.”
Eriksen felt motivated by his own shifting perspective. All of these rabbit holes “lit a spark in me to find out more things that I didn’t understand.”
I just have to note…this is square one.
Maybe that little chaotic spark is the internal, one-of-a-kind Big Bang that leads our wildly creative child-selves into exploration and heightened tolerance for shifting paradigms?
Wild sparks yielding wild exploration, expansive conceptualization of medium, and the continued application of imagination, intuition, discipline, and hope. Are these the keys to vibrance?
Omg I can’t wait to see what’s waiting for me in November’s notes… #nospoilers
I’m wishing myself and all of you a beautiful remainder of fall. May there be plenty of wonder ahead.
LOVE!
Emily
P.S. Last night, Olivia and I went to a gluten free food truck festival and ate corndogs.
P.P.S. Here’s a look at some of what I’ve been doing at UVU this fall. This work is so satisfying!
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