Three things teaching English has taught me about creativity

I resisted the idea of teaching English when I first moved to Turkey. Part of it was that I didn't want to give up other pursuits to teach, but the other part was not feeling in my own skin as a second-language learner of Turkish. My brain felt crowded with new words and a new culture. If I couldn't speak Turkish, how could I get others to be enthused about learning English? Six years later, I've gotten my footing as a teacher, I can speak Turkish, and lo and behold, teaching English has taught me something about creativity.

Here are three things that make me think creativity and teaching English have a lot in common:

1. Comprehension evolves

I don't worry when my students don't understand what I'm saying. I worry when they don't listen and think for themselves. The words will come, the sentences will piece together like patchwork, but they need to trust that they will absorb the language over time by using it. True for both learning a second language and creativity? Listening. Paying attention. Being open. Giving the dictionary or rule book a break every now and then.

2. Innovation happens under pressure

Tara Agacayak talks about obstacles being way-finders in her blog post Now on Turquoise Poppy.

"We should give thanks when we are stopped in our tracks for being forced to innovate an alternative."

When teaching English, I have to think on my feet and come up with things on the fly. I stockpile ideas for quick pinch situations, like having ten minutes left of class and 20 grumbly second-graders. Paper. Pencil. Draw. Artists and writers crave innovation and alternatives because at the heart of creativity is being a problem solver.

3. Start with a ritual, end with something unconventional

In the classroom, I start the lesson with the same greeting and intro. The lesson relies on that daily ritual, but then branches out and turns into something organic. When I sit down to write or draw, I prepare mentally and ready my supplies with ritual, too. I open Scrivener or pull out a watercolor notebook. I keep my pens handy, and brushes clean. Doing the same ritual whenever I sit down to work triggers my memory and gets me ready to go.

Have you ever drawn a parallel between two things you didn't think were compatible?

Offerings and Transitions

New Year's eve, and I'm wrapped up in a blanket feeling the stark combination of caffeine withdrawal and sore throat. I want nothing more than to tuck in a little longer and read The Bird Sisters while drinking the hot sahlep drink at my side sprinkled with cinnamon. I'm ready to say goodbye to 2010's roller coaster cold and flu cycle, but I had such an amazing year in other ways that I'm not quite ready to let go. Two big reasons include these:

Voice Lessons from a Hybrid Ambassador - a blog ring that took a stance on a polarizing book promotion on She Writes.
Dialogue2010 at expat+HAREM - the 10-person roundtable discussion that sparked a year of conversation, comaradarie, and creativity.

60 Secs of Holiday Cheer
With just a few hours to spare on this side of the world for the New Year, squeeze in sixty seconds to watch this little video interview I did for She's Next on Family and Traditions from Anywhere.

Compared to last year, when I did a big holiday dinner and had lots of guests, we had a very quiet Christmas. In some ways, it was kind of a relief not to try so hard this year and to enjoy new little traditions of our own.

Creative Life picks for December 2010

• The clue to Justine Lee Monk’s The Secret Ingredient to a Strong Writer’s Platform? Big Meaning.
• Are you a writer? This pick has 10 Steps and 417 Comments.
• A hybrid design/multimedia/creativity thinker gives us Another Look at Self-Actualization.
• Who are you? Nilofer Merchant ponders the question in Rogues, Misfits, or Heroines?
• Karen Woland invites you to Declare your Indescribable Beauty.
• The post that started it all one year ago this month: Mapping the Imagination. This piece for expat+HAREM sparked a year of conversation, creativity, and camaraderie, and the 10-person roundtable discussion, Dialogue2010.

Moving On
In January, I'll be moving my blog from Blogger to my own site (yeah! cheers!). I've been moving my portfolio site to the same website, too, so it's been a learning curve in terms of bringing all these things together. I'll make the announcement soon, but www.rosedeniz.com will be the hub from January onward.

Wishing you and yours a healthy, creatively abundant new year!

Love,
Rose

Conversation with Maggie Sutrov on Value, Story, and Ship

Grab a cup of coffee or tea, and listen to a great conversation I had with artist Maggie Sutrov on creativity, storytelling, and sharing your work! She's a painter in love with plein air, but has made a major shift and is working in more interactive and less object-centered ways.

I met Maggie on Triiibes after we both participated in an ongoing discussion on how artists can best market their work in a tight economy. We found that we both were moving away from a gallery model and gravitating towards storytelling and social media as a way to share and support an art career.

Listen to the podcast here!

How art concepts apply to writing

Anne Wilson, Topographies, from Mouth to Mouth Mag

I remember piling into my intro art and design classes with other sleepy-eyed freshmen to learn how to draw, paint, and critique. We were taught how to see and to talk about a piece objectively, not just what we liked or disliked. We talked about craft and attention to detail. When it came to subjectivity, we were taught to point out what was or was not working, and why.

Laura Miller at Salon.com this week tells us Why we love bad writing, and one of her reasons is about flow:

Novels are praised for being a "fast read" and above all for having writing that "flows." "Flow" is an especially fascinating term because it's one that literary critics have never used, and it perfectly captures the way that clichéd prose can be gobbled up in chunks at a breakneck pace.

I'm interested in her attention to "flow" because it does get used in visual arts and design. It's how your eye moves, or how the line work or composition flows. To me, books that flow do not always equate cliche. As M. D. (Dom) Benoit asks, "Plot vs. quality. What a concept. Why not both?"

How does an art concept like flow apply to writing? There is something seamless and tight about prose that flows. It means something is working below the surface to grab a reader or viewer's attention and hold them tight.

So, what do you think, why not both? 

One artifact

One of these three. Which one got broken?

It survived a tumble in a suitcase across the ocean. It managed to escape breaking at the grabby hands of my 4-year old. It also teetered on the edge of the bed one morning thanks to my 2-year-old daughter, but never fell.

The hand-painted statuette my mom made when she was a little girl, it's pastel pink dress and creamy white angel wings, was like the traveling gnome prank, always showing up somewhere new in our house. But now it's gone to artifact heaven, that place where all the little tchotchke's go when they're broken. Fitting that the word tchotchke is from Yiddish* - my mother's family spoke it, and I wonder if my bookish, clutter-oriented grandmother would be dismayed I have so few of them now.

At a time when I'm paring down stuff, it surprises me how hard it is to accept that the ceramic is gone.

How do you say goodbye to an object that is emotionally laden?

It's timely that the theme of the inaugural issue of MOTIF Mag is Nostalgia. It's cover is graced with a retro feel, but a quick peek inside shows nostalgia can take on a fresh look.

I'm proud to have designed the logo and title of this enticing and lovely free online magazine. Partnering with Lara Cory and Tegan Pasley, we created a motif, no less, for a theme-oriented magazine welcoming talent, skills, and ideas from readers related to the next issue. I hope you'll subscribe and seep yourself in the world of nostalgia. 

*The OAD says the first usage of tchotchke was in the 60's, Merriam-Webster the 70's. Regardless of when it came into parlance, the little effigy I moved from ramshackle apartment to apartment in the Midwest and then over to Turkey, was made in 1955, born just in time to fit the definition.