Since around December, I’ve been grappling with a pretty hardcore writer’s block. I found it difficult to find the time and energy to write, when I was working so hard to promote Blameless Mouth’s release. And then I got pregnant and any sort of physical energy that remained flew out the window.

Now that my fatigue is subsiding, I desperately want to get back to writing. However, I feel like I don’t remember how to practice writing. I know it involves pen, paper, time, and ideas, but I feel like I was lacking the time and idea. Also, my last journal was getting full.

So, last Monday, I spent some time making a new journal. I had a lot of images going through my mind, but I settled on the colored squares. The phrase on the lower right “Remember Every Little Piece” is  a reminder for me to record this moment in my life, as I’ve recorded so many others. Instead of writing, I’ve been living a lot in my head, without any output. I would love to be able to look back and have a physical record of what was going on in my life at this time.

Hopefully, this reminder will serve me well. The journal has already worked it’s magic and I’ve already written two and a half poems, which I’ll post over the next few days.

In anticipation of January’s A River of Stones International Small Stones Writing Month, I made a mini-journal to carry around.

I used one of those tiny marble covered Mead composition books as my base. It’s lined, which I don’t normally like, but I think it will do. I added some wintry looking paper scraps that I had lying about, along with a title using my stamp kit. Finally, I insta-laminated it, using clear packing tape. All in all, my journal took about 10 minutes to make.

Now that I have a journal ready, the project feels real. I know it will feel more real as I start to actually write the small stones each day. But I feel one step closer, now that I have a space for them to live and breathe.

You’ll notice that I labeled this journal “January Small Stones.” I’m hoping that if I like this form, I can continue the project throughout the year. Each month, I’ll make a new itty bitty journal and capture my small stones there. Although, having written exactly zero small stones in my life, this kind of planning is a little premature. I always feel ambitious this time of year.

If you’re interested in playing along with International Small Stones Writing Month, I hope that you’ll click the badge below and sign up.

I don’t know if the zine publishing community continued all this time and I just fell away from the interest or if there is a recent resurgence of zine-making.  Whatever the case, I am so glad that I’ve rediscovered this publishing niche. Today, Aaron and I went to Steven Square Center for the Arts for the 2010 Twin Cities Zinefest.

The SSCA’s gallery space was crammed with tables showcasing mostly local zine publishers, micropresses, comic book artists, and book artists. As I traveled from table to table, perusing the gorgeously handmade booklets and cards, it took all of my personal power not to buy something from every exhibitor.  Instead, I settled on two issues of “Certain People I Don’t Know: Profiles of Metro Transit Friends” from Terrible Comics by a Terrible Person. (They aren’t terrible; they are awesome and funny.) I also bought four issues of The Burn Book by Action Athena artist Athena Currier.  I could have (should have) bought more.

Visiting Zinefest this year gave me the urge to do two things:

1. Join Steven Square Center for the Arts.
2. Grab a pair of scissors and some poems and craft up a zine of my own.

Both of these are now in the realm of possibility.

When I write, I don’t need this kind of patience. I scribble (or type) words down on the page and I work them until the poem (or piece) is finished. I don’t have to wait for my words to dry on the page or for the layers of meaning to adhere to each other. They already are doing those things, with little to no waiting.

As I think about this process, it reminds me of when I took an introductory photography class in college. My favorite part (of course) was taking the pictures. I could snap rolls and rolls of film and I was happy in that process. What I dreaded was the dark room. Some photographers really enjoy the chemical fixing process, watching the images bloom on the paper.  Me, I hated all the waiting I had to do. I had to unravel the film perfectly, something I could never do, wait for the chemicals to fix the negatives. Then I had to look through all the negatives, find a few good and unblemished frames, burn the images on the paper and then develop the paper.  Ugh.  I couldn’t do all of those steps quickly enough.  Of course, now I have a digital camera and I have instantaneous results and virtually unlimited frames.

I wonder what this instant gratification does for my creative process. The benefit of working with paint and glue is that I am forced to wait while the materials do their work.  This morning, I am painting the background of an art journal page and I have to wait for it to dry. As it dries, I’m doing other things, but thinking about the next few layers I want to add. I ponder the various techniques – do I want to use inks or stamps? Do I want to paraphrase the Emily Dickinson line or not? Where would I put these words? When I write poems, I only think about these things after the draft is finished and I am hurtling towards revision.

I also have to forgive the materials a bit. The problem with my art journal now is that the pages bleed through to each other.  I envision the page I’m working on this morning in a certain way, but then the darn watercolors from the previous page are stubborn. They like to show themselves, even under layers of paint. This morning, I had to surrender and allow those stains to become part of the page.

I don’t know how all of this will affect my poetry or my writing process. I know back when I was taking photography class, my poetry shifted and became more image based.  Will working with paint and glue urge me to layer more in language? Will I learn to forgive (and even encourage) the constraints of the words I use? Even though these are all separate mediums, I know that they must come together, somewhere.

Here in Minneapolis, we are on Day 2 of the Great Christmas Snowstorm of ’09. This 15-20 inch storm will surely rival the Great Halloween Snowstorm of ’93, which happened a year before I moved here.  Since it’s snowy, slushy, and generally inhospitable to walking on crutches outside, we stayed inside today.

Lucky for me, my honey bought me a great Christmas gift – rub-on decals. He found me a really cute set of decals made by Third Drawer Down, which he purchased at one of our favorite shops in Minneapolis, ROBOTlove. The decals included the lovely girl you see above at the desk (I just had to use her) as well as more animals, more books, and small school supplies.

As soon as I saw the decals, I wanted to try them out, so I created a new journal cover, pictured above.  The handwritten caption, which is practically illegible in this picture reads “Today, she thought it best to stay inside.” I’ve been journal-less for several months, ever since one of my lovely cats puked all over my last journal. This is the first time I’ve felt like creating a new journal, so it was darn lucky that I had an extra blank journal lying around for the occasion.

After this first use, I am totally in love with decals.  They’re amazingly easy to transfer and they create images that I would never be able to draw by hand in a million years.  While I used these decals on paper, they can be transferred to almost any material. I can’t decide what else I’ll use these for, but I’m sure I’ll think of something. My hubby says that they have a wide variety of these decals at ROBOTlove, so once it dries up outside, I’m heading down there to find some more fun.

I hope your Christmas allowed you some creative fun time too!

Walking through the Creative Arts displays at the Minnesota State Fair today, I saw the care that goes into each of the products. Someone, somewhere in Minnesota, spent their evenings and weekends after work or after school, making these things from scratch.  Everything was filled with that love and effort.