This week I share some of my creative process. I’m always interested in others’ ways of creating, almost as much as I am in the creations themselves. Every week I spark the creative fire by looking for an image and investigating why it captured me, reading a poem and commenting upon it, randomly choosing a word to play with, noting what I’m sensing, and, lest I take myself too seriously, coming up with something funny.
Today’s image in gallery caught my eye on an early morning walk – seed stars on a snow sky, a beam of sun coming from a disturbance of cedar in the snow. Everything is stardust. Though there were many mouse tracks in the snow, none disturbed the stars. Nothing mystical there; the little stars were not likely a valued food source, at least this early in the winter.
In reading room is one of my earlier verses. Coleman Barks, on Rumi, writes “Language and music are possible only because we are empty…”. We are not the source. The music happens when we stop running from the silence, from the emptiness.