This week: Let's Go Pick Asparagus Edited by: Fyn  
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Creativity may be hard to nurture, but it's easy to thwart. ~~Adam Grant
Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn't really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That's because they were able to connect experiences they've had and synthesize new things.~~Steve Jobs
Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties. ~~Erich Fromm
Anxiety is the handmaiden of creativity. ~~T. S. Eliot
A hunch is creativity trying to tell you something. ~~Frank Capra
Creativity is an inherent human quality of the highest order. When we create, we become more than the sum of our parts. ~~Yanni
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We were losing the battle to keep the house semi-clean, I really wanted to reorganize my office, I had several hours of errand-running to do, and some welcome, but unexpected company was imminent, I was overwhelmed and told my hubby so. He countered by wondering why we can be 'overwhelmed' or 'underwhelmed,' but never simply whelmed. He was no not helping. Then he commented that, come to think of it, those two words are not opposites as they mean very different (versus opposing) things. Then he told me to save the 'mom glare' because it didn't work on him. He hugged me and told me to relax. But ... but ... there's too much to do! And, on top of everything else, I'd been trying to write. My efforts had been little more than idea stutters. I couldn't get anything out. The harder I tried, the worse it became. And it was trying and failing to happen in my unorganized office. The clutter was making the mess in my head worse. He helpfully (not) says it sounds like I'm trying to create a blivet within a blivet. I am so NOT trying to cram ten pounds of manure into a five-pound bag of time. Well, maybe I am, actually.
We went outside with fresh coffee to de-stress on the porch. The daffodils were past their prime, in fact, the garden really needs to be dug up and started over minus the vinca vine that is supposed to be an annual but perennially comes up to take over the garden. My Adirondack chair is in serious need of repainting. My hydrangeas aren't as 'up' as they should b and why were ferms from the side of the house growing freely in my front garden? This clearly wasn't working.
He took my hand, cajoled me to the truck, and said that we were going to go pick asparagus, NOW?.
Back roads of the dirt, washboard, and pot-holed kind. He pulled over, and we got out. He handed me a basket, pointed to my side of the road, and told me we'd meet at that big oak tree down about a quarter-mile. All the way down there? Heaving a most dramatic sigh, I started ruffling through the weeds on the side of the road. I don't want to pick asparagus. I don't have time to pick ... I saw the loveliest teensy blue flowers right near several thick spears of asparagus. More shot their seeded heads up a few feet away. A redbud wearing its pale pink coat of blossoms caught the sun. Oh, how pretty. A Junko tilted its head and warbled a few notes before hopping along its way. Right next to more stalks. I counted. Fifteen so far. At this rate, we'd have plenty for dinner tonight. As I wandered, picked, wandered, and picked, I began planning dinner around our bounty.
The next thing I knew, I'd reached that big oak. Oh look, there's more! Fifteen minutes later, I stop to sit on a big, flat rock and soak in the sun. I have a basket full of asparagus and the sun warms the knot between my shoulder blades. I'm watching two bay mares roll in the grass. A yearling cavorts nearby.
"Feel better?" he asks joining me on my rock. He sets down his equally filled basket. I did. In fact, I was absolutely energized. "I remember dad taking my mom out to pick asparagus in the spring. Usually, it was when she was fussing over something or another. She just needed to change her focus for a bit -- one time he took her asparagus hunting mid-summer. She was out there for ten minutes before she realized it was past time to find asparagus. Didn't matter, really. It still got her focused on something else. Mom always came back in a great mood. Dad was pretty smart," he finished with a smile. I nodded.
We didn't get everything done. Dinner was awesome and our company had a good time. The asparagus was aMAZing! Sunday, Hubby and I reorganized the office and last night, I was writing like crazy. Asparagus. Who knew?
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And because Memorial Day approaches...
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Paul  writes: The best thing I’ve found are acting classes I’ve taken. If you want to be able to defeat that monster take an improvisational acting class. There is nothing in the world more frightening than to be on stage in front of an audience and forget your line or not be able to come up with a reply. I can personally attest to that. Some say it’s worse than the fear of death, I agree.
I stage and walk through all the parts I’m writing about. I’m on stage in my mind and I do it for all the parts. Just getting up and physically moving as I think of the scene will usually give me the stile I need to climb over the problem. Stiles let people pass, not animals. In this the ravening beast eating at you.
Give it a try, it seems to work for me.
Good fortune and Never Give Up.
Paul
🌻🖋🐸🙏🏼
Bikerider  says: Your April 26th newsletter probably applies to every writer at some point, so I found the suggestions doe breaking writer's block interesting. (But I don't know about the glass of water.) I have a folder with ideas, like you wrote, not stories but ideas for stories. I read a suggestion on how to get out of writer's block a few years ago. Take a simple idea that you've been thinking about and write a sentence/paragraph. It doesn't matter where in the story you begin. I've tried it a couple of times and it sometimes works for me. I found that I begin adding to what I've written, and the ideas begin to flow.
Elfin Dragon-finally published  comments: thank you so much for your encouragement. I've been on a "no write" kick for some time, of late. I've been trying to figure out a way to get back on it and haven't been inspired to get on my keyboard. But with all the Ukrainian and Russian military problems going on I got to thinking about my own military history. I got to wondering about not just mine, but my whole family. You see, we're one of those which has a history going back several generations. And I was thinking...what if I were to write about that military history? Not just the history, but through the eyes of my family as they lived it? it would certainly be a lot of work. And some time and place jump since my dad has two brothers who also served. And my grandfathers served. This is a great undertaking. But the more I think about it, the more I think I want to do it.
QueenNormaJean maybesnow?!  says: Our brains are wonderful works of art. It constantly amazes me what happens when I start writing. 
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For Authors: May 25, 2022 Issue [#11378]
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