Where Are the Magical Men?

Arthur Rackham illustration. 

Recently on the blog of Theodora Goss there has been a conversation going on about "magical men" -- men who partake in mythic art, writing, music, etc. Men who see the magical, fantastical aspects to life, and attempt to converse with us (the readers, the viewers) through creative mediums about them. More to the point, the conversation is about: where are these men?

Women who write, paint, carve, sing, or communicate in some other way about the mythic or enchanted realities of life are literally everywhere. But where are the men? Some fellows, like Charles de Lint, Charles Vess, Arthur Rackham, Neil Gaiman, and Brian Froud are indeed as magical as they come. But after a few minutes, it becomes harder and harder to think of more examples of magical men.

Is it because men are less likely to be interested in fantasy and art, or are magical men less loud and visible than their female counterparts? As Theodora says, maybe it is because women feel more social acceptance to setting up Etsy shops online, or blogging about poetry. This is true -- a lot of men I know paint in private, write in private, play music in private, but don't make much of a song and dance about it. Unfortunately.

Magical men do exist, and they are everywhere. But men are not like women, in many ways. They are quiet, often humble, often docile. They don't talk about their feelings as often, and are less likely to express their deepest intimacies. When they do, through art or writing, perhaps they are also less likely to share their creativity with the rest of the world?

Never mind the burden that men face in life. I know many female artists and writers, who are able to pursue their creativity more because of the money earned by their partners/husbands. How often is a man allowed the money, time and space (by his spouse or family or society) to pursue his art more full time? Often it's OK for women to be supported financially by their husbands so they can write a novel. How often is the reverse true? It happens, but not often enough.

Arthur Rackham illustration.

Men are raised to think they have to be everything -- they have to earn the money, support their families, become successful and prosperous. I know a lot of men who feel like failures if they can't buy the cars, the houses, the clothes that other men do.

Without question, from childhood, men know they have to support themselves financially, and possibly support a wife and children. More and more women are working full-time while raising children, but for men it is rarely a question, a choice, or an option. Men simply do not feel they have the option to not work.

If you are not working full-time and doing something respectfully difficult, you are a lay-about, lazy, a leech, and possibly a "bad provider".

Is it the fault of women that men do not take part in more art? 

No, the problem is that men have to listen to their own inner drive. If they want to do more art, be more creative, experience more magic, then the voice inside their gut has to become stronger than the voices in their head telling them to be responsible/reasonable/practical. Often those voices are not theirs in origin. Whose voice is it? A mother? A brother? A teacher? A line from an old movie watched 20 years ago?

And is it a voice that loves you? Really loves you?

Let's forget about "men" and "women" and talk about "people". As a person, do you deserve to do what makes you happy? What financial and emotional support do you need, as a person, to do what you want to do?

Arthur Rackham illustration.

As a man who writes, who paints, who believes in magic, I haven't survived and thrived by being more feminine, more sensitive, more airy-fairy if you will. I would say my gifts have been sheer determination, tenacity, and stubbornness. I wanted to prove them wrong -- the voices. The ones that tell me that I can't "pay the bills with poetry". And I did. Sort of.

And so do many other men I know. Men who publish poetry, have art exhibitions, write stories, talk about astrology, and believe in magic. It is an honor to know them.

At the end of the day, only a real man with guts can give himself permission to do something fantastical and beautiful and magical in this world.

Is Being A Writer Good Enough?

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time." - Mary Oliver

Writing is one of the most endangered, fragile professions that exists.

Not because there is any lack of skilled and passionate wordsmiths floating around. There are countless numbers of us. The reason is because there are so many obstacles to becoming a constant, prolific and successful writer. Some of the most talked about are editors, changes in the publishing world, low remuneration, deadline pressures, and people in our lives who wonder when we are going to get "real jobs".

But the worst enemies are within.

Low self-confidence, doubt, fear, creative blocks, fatigue, resentment, jealousy, etc. These are some of the enemies that live within the writer. Do bankers suffer from these internal struggles? Do gardeners, or dentists, or other people who have "real jobs"?

This morning on the way to work I talked to my partner about my confusion. Was I really meant to be a writer? What about all my other dreams? Didn't I once want to open my own natural health clinic? What about the reiki school I talked about? And the bookshop I wanted to start up? Once upon a time, I was even going to sign up for web design courses and make the big bucks.

What happened to all those dreams? All those other parts of myself, crying out for attention, for love, for time?

After listening to my angst, my partner reminded me about dharma -- the idea that whatever we are doing right now, we are meant to be doing it. Even if writing feels selfish at times, it has a larger purpose. I don't know if that is the official definition of dharma, but it is interesting, and it helped me to feel better. If I want to writer, maybe I am meant to be a writer.

And maybe, just maybe, all those other parts of myself will forgive me for forgetting them just long enough to finish this next story...

     In a time and place that is now both gone and forgotten, there lived a young stick of a boy, who lived all alone in a tower by the sea cliffs. With no one to talk to and no family to look after him, he would go down to the rocks and forage for his meals. He pulled seaweed from the rocks, caught crabs and shellfish from the thick mud, and once in a while, harpooned fish with sharp pieces of wood. 

And when his belly was full, he would write. He wrote all his words on the paper he could find, and when the paper was all gone, he wrote on dried leaves and curtains and on the stones in the walls. People, families, friends, they lived there in his poems and stories. He could hear their voices in the corridors, behind the mirrors, and even in his dreamless sleep...

Paralyzed With Fear?

‎"Are you paralyzed with fear? That’s a good sign. Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells us what we have to do. Remember our rule of thumb: The more scared we are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to do it.Resistance is experienced as fear; the degree of fear equates the strength of Resistance. Therefore, the more fear we feel about a specific enterprise, the more certain we can be that that enterprise is important to us and to the growth of our soul.” - Steven Pressfield

Does Creativity Lead to Better Health?

"It doesn’t matter if you are painting, writing poetry, journaling, sketching, or making pottery — the simple and timeless act of creating something out of nothing, and operating from that quiet and primordial place within you, initiates changes within your body." - Joel Le Blanc

The TLC International Art School in Wellington, New Zealand has recently published a feature article of mine detailing the links between creativity and health, and the scientific research that proves the link. I studied at TLC several years ago during a very difficult time in both my personal life and in my health, so it somehow feels that I have come full circle to have published this article for them in particular.

This is a very exciting time for me in my professional life and I just hope that this article, and future articles to come in this area, may help some people in their journey. 

Can Creative Writing Be Taught?

Recently the blog DIY MFA posted a question "Can Creative Writing be Taught?" in response to an article written in The Guardian tackling the same question. It's interesting how many people get wrapped into all sorts of knots over this issue.

To Degree or not to Degree.
To Dare to Dream, or Not.

As if answering this age old question in the world of creative writing and publishing would put a lot of people out of their misery, and usher up the chosen few to the front of the line.

You know.
Those guys.
The ones with 'talent'.

I suppose my official (and short) response to "Can Creative Writing Be Taught?" would be: Yes.Yes it can.

The considerably longer response: I myself have learned creative writing. And I still am learning. Not just through tertiary learning institutions though, but from all sorts of places and people. I read essays, writer's magazines, blogs, online articles, newsletters and take workshops. And, most importantly, I read books. I read lots, and lots, of books. Especially those in the genres in which I am interested in writing. Show me an urban fantasy book and the transformation will amaze you. If urban fantasy was a cookie, I'd be cookie monster - but without the blue fur. Just normal man fur.

I also read a lot of non-fiction books on the art and craft of writing. The local library is full of books published by known and unknown authors on how to write, how to unlock creativity, how to structure the next big Dan Brown-esque novel, etc. Some of the best and most useful books I've found include "Booklife" by Jeff Vandermeer and "Artist in the Office" by Summer Pierre.

Learning creative writing is not about reaching a destination. Joyce Carol-Oates is not going to magically appear in a puff of literary smoke and hand you a laminated card with the words "REAL CREATIVE WRITER" written on it in big, bold, black letters. To learn writing - to learn any art - is an ongoing process on which you embark. It does not happen right away. You've got to be passionate, you've got to have determination, you've got to have the spirit and guts and balls to say "Yes, I can learn."

And the moment you think to yourself "I have arrived!" - you have failed. Just because you have a degree, it doesn't mean you can write, or get published. And just because you're published, doesn't mean that people like you. And if people do like you, and you've got a New York Times Bestselling Novel, you might still kind of suck.

Keep walking, keep journeying, keeping writing, and your craft and skills will grow with you. Every time I get a new issue of Writer's Digest, every time I sit down and write a poem on my napkin, every time I read a book, I learn something new about writing. It never stops. It's crazy.

Ever played Pokemon? That game where you run around catching monsters, and raise them slowly so they gain magical powers?
If you have not, I recommend you try. The analogy helps.

Everythings and Nothings, with lots of Somethings

Life is a fantastic mesh of messiness, laughter and food sometimes. It's strange when it's all so wonderful, so unexpected, yet you still feel stressed and nauseous from exhaustion, because it's all so fast, so whirlwindish. I wouldn't change anything about my life these days - except to take it off the fast-forward button. 

In two weeks all my classes begin once more and I will be sent reeling into a world of editing, writing and painting. This is good. Right? Yes. Absolutely. Other bohemians will look positively banker-ish compared to how bohemian I've become. I just desperately hope that I have enough spare time for my boyfriend, my dogs and my poor, poor vegetable patch. 

The other day I recieved a little bit of news. Apparently another one of my poems has been selected to be published in a book. I know very little about this book, except that it is an anthology of local poets and that the book launch is suprisingly soon. The poem that was selected is called "Hansel & Gretel" and was written halfway through last year following a university english paper I did on fairytales, mythology and folklore. 

Right now my beloved boyfriend is making up some breakfast for me. I can hear the complaining spittle of oil in the pan, and wafting tendrils of smokey aromas are finding me here at my computer. I had best go and investigate just what he is up to. 

Later this week I hope to upload some new content, including a few book reviews (I have been absolutely book crazy these last two weeks!) and a post on "Finding the Writer's Voice". 

Working Hard on Blog

I've decided that if one has a blog, one must learn to use one's blog more effectively. 

Or at least, more effectively than one has been doing - if "one" means "me". 

Having said that, I know that I am a highly visual person, and having a blog that is pleasing to the eye, energetic, possibly even inspiration, will help to motivate me incredibly to log in and start typing away in here.

When you are a freelancer, you are acutely aware of phrases such as "time is money". However, I have decided that is not how I am going to run my home business. I am going to take my time, have fun, explore, play and enjoy the full and delicious ride of it as long as I can.

I did not become a writer because I wanted to earn money (the two simply just don't go together). I became a writer because I wanted to share with others that which that I love, the knowledge that has helped me, and the energies and ideas that have moved me. 

These are the sentiments and abstract ideas which I decided had to be expressed and connected through my blog.

I have spent the last few days working hard on the design and layout. It's been a joyous experience to tap back into old skills I gained as a teenager when I used to teach myself web design and HTML. More then anything, accessing the visual aspects of the brain and giving the "audio-digital" language of the analytical mind a rest I've enjoyed. 

The blog is mostly finished, with new pages up and running allowing readers to see my published writings, the art I am working on and the e-zine journal that I am editing. 

Next step: finish up connecting the links on the left-hand panel, have some tea, charge up my camera and learn to use it more often, play with some paint, dance around in my living room, then get back to work. 

Cocorosie

Just wanted to share this with everyone. Cocorosie is a band I have just recently discovered when my neice-in-law introduced me to them. I was sent a link to the song, "Werewolf", and was instantly plunged headfirst into icey fresh and strange lyrics, beautiful music and haunting story-telling like none I have come across in the world of music before. 

Finding Cocorosie is very exciting and hopefully in the next couple of days I will be sharing some of the new art and lyrics that have been inspired from their songs. 

Beach dreams and memories and clouds over hearts.

Yesterday there were cobwebs in my mind. Trying frantically to work and finish off some of my freelance projects, I was starting to feel desperate. All I really wanted to do was work on my art.

Sometimes it's as though my heart is trying to bulge out of my chest. If it did, would it bleed colors, and what would those colors be? 

I went for a long walk on the beach, asking the universe for a sign. How to reconcile my creative side with the need to pay the bills? The days melt away when I try to pin it down and make time to make art or poetry. 

I noticed flocks of birds out on the water. Hundres of birds black like magic, casting clouds over the bay. Moments later dozens of peacock-colored sardines wash up onto the seashore all around me, flipping fish dances in the white foam waves.

 

Before I know it, the sun comes out and gives water wings to fly upwards. I don't have any concrete answers, but some of the clouds in my heart gives way to the sunshine too. Whatever happens, the creative journey is never done. I'll be fine.