Creativity Tips: Disappearing Act

I write so much my letters disappear. You may not. But I'll tell you this: There's one letter we all lose sight of too often:
I 
This week, don't let your I disappear in the busyness of life. Grab a special creative moment just for you. What do you love to do? What gives you energy? What makes you happy?

Do it. This week, take some time just for you. Happy Monday!

Creativity Tips: If At First You Don't Succeed ...

There are two ways to go with that headline. The ever popular "try, try again." Or, the snarky "give it up."

Surprisingly, I'm going to try again. Earlier this week, I asked you, my dear readers, to tell me your favorite poem -- I want to post a poem a day in April, in honor of poetry month.

Two of you responded. Two. Of. You. Come on, you lazy bums. You can do better. I know more than two of you read poetry, or have at some point in your life. Talk to me. I'm trying, trying again. What's your favorite poem? Post away.

Here's to a non-snarky weekend, where you can be as lazy as desired. I hope it's warm where you are, because it's sub-arctic in KC and I'm ready to hibernate.

Post 60: Holy Moses

Kim Basinger and Charlton Heston came as a packaged deal. If I wanted to interview the star, I had to interview the starlet.

It was 1982, and I was news director of KUDL and hosted The City Report talk show. As you might imagine, it wasn't often that a reporter in Kansas City had the opportunity to talk with a man who'd been Moses, Marc Antony and Michelangelo. I wasn't a huge Charlton Heston fan, but I liked Planet of the Apes. And who doesn't love Soylent Green?

Besides, I had time to fill, and talking with movie stars was a far more attractive option than another interview with the mayor of Kansas City, Kan. He had the unfortunate tendency to wander around the studio WHILE I was interviewing him, so he could get a closer look at the Playboy bunny posters decorating the walls.

The posters never changed and neither did he. But, I digress.

OK, fine. If we'd had this poster on the studio wall,
I'd have wandered around for a closer look too. 

Back to my buddies Kim and Charlton. You might wonder why they were in Kansas City. Good question, simple answer. They were opening a movie so ridiculously bad that they chose KC for the premiere. You know, as far from the critics on the coasts as possible.

Oy. It was a load of something. 

Heston was the star of Mother Lode and he played two characters. Twin brothers, I believe. One, a crazed Scottish miner.

About 20 minutes into our interview, I was feeling pretty good. Sure, Heston was world famous and Basinger was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, but I was the one in charge and the interview was going well. So, I veered from my planned discussion.

Jan, the Cocky, Foolish Reporter:
"So, in the movie you play a crazy Scottish miner. You must have an accent. Let's hear it."

Charlton, the Oscar-Winning Actor, instantaneously in full character, with full accent, leaned forward -- an inch away from my face -- and said:
"One more ignorant question and you be sorry. Ver' sorry. Ver' dead. Am I clear, girl?"

I jumped out of my chair and screamed. Probably sounded like one of the lesser characters in Planet of the Apes. But holy Moses! Charlton Heston had turned into the murderous miner McGee in two seconds. It was like a completely different person in the seat. And then he sat back, turned into Charlton Heston again and laughed.

Kim Basinger laughed too, and said, "Welcome to my world. I've been dealing with that for months."

I can't tell you how the rest of the interview went, because I was too frazzled. I can tell you that I was far more respectful that evening, when we attended the movie premiere -- even after we saw the movie and being nice was more of a challenge.

Kim Basinger, by the by, went on to be an Oscar winner too. When she received the Academy Award in 1998 as Best Actress in a Supporting Role, I was one of 80 gazillion people watching the telecast. She went onstage, grabbed the Oscar, held it high and said: "I'd like to thank everyone I've ever met!"

And I jumped off the couch and yelled, "That's ME!"

Creative talent is a gift that requires years of hard work to hone. Along the way, as you refine your skills -- acting, writing, nursing, fathering, whatever -- you'll meet a lot of people. Some of them will leave a mark so clear, you'll know their impact on your life. With others, maybe not.

But I'm a big believer in the theory of Sliding Doors. Every interaction, no matter how apparently inconsequential, impacts us. Which interaction, which impact, will change your story? It's impossible to say, impossible to know.

So we might as well go with the Basinger theory. When something wonderful happens, grab it with gusto, and be thankful.

And the next time you watch The Ten Commandments, rest assured that if anyone could part those waters, Charlton Heston could.

P.S. I didn't use a photo of Kim Basinger, because photos don't do her justice. The screen doesn't do her justice. It was years ago, but when I met her, she was truly astonishingly, perfectly beautiful. And smart. And funny. And, after it was all over, I realized how kind it was of Charlton Heston to insist that interviews with him included the unknown actress. Just another example of how every little step can make a difference.

Sidenote for those of you just joining the fun: Post 60 is a digression on the Creative Instigation blog, part of my 60th year celebration. This is Post 5 of the 60. Party on!

Creativity Tips: Start Happy

One of my favorite clients encouraged me to finish strong on Friday. Today, I'm encouraging you to start happy! According to the official research, you'll be more productive.

My unofficial research says you'll also be more creative. The more we write, read, paint, cook, or do crossword puzzles, the better we get. The better we get, the happier we are! 

See what a lovely circle we just drew? Put a smiley face in it and get to work. Here's to a happy week!

Dang. I am talented. ;-)

Post 60: To Infinity and Beyond

Those of you who didn't know me in my younger days may be surprised to learn that I loved math. And I was good at it. I went all the way through Calculus at Center Senior High School.

I know it's different at theoretical levels, but the math I was studying seemed wonderfully black-and-white. After arguing with my English teachers ("How do you know what Faulkner meant? You weren't there when he wrote it!), I really enjoyed going to a math class where the answer was right or wrong. No ifs, ands or buts.

I even liked my math teachers -- Mr. Propp, Mr. Dial and Mr. Wills. All very different, but I learned a lot from them. And then I met Mr. Knopps.

Mr. Knopps taught Calculus. Looking back, I think he was probably a wonderful teacher with a wry, dry sense of humor. Looking then, I thought he was terrifying.

It became clear early on -- to me, Mr. Knopps and the rest of the class -- that I was out of my league. Calculus wasn't Algebra. It wasn't Geometry. It didn't add up. But, I was stuck with Mr. K and he was stuck with me. After all, I was one of the "smart" kids. We didn't drop classes and teachers didn't kick us out.

Although, if he'd had the opportunity, I believe Mr. K would have shown me the door.

"Janet," Mr. Knopps would say, when I failed -- yet again -- to answer a question. "My five-year-old can solve this equation. Certainly you can."

I wasn't the only one Mr. K teased, and I saw how others responded. They worked harder, they came back with the right answers, they trounced that little five-year-old. Unfortunately, the motivation didn't work for me. I gave up and shut up, "counting" on his good grace and my limited talents to eventually pass the class.

Fortunately, a passing grade in Calculus satisfied the University of Missouri's mathematics requirements for a journalism student. I never looked back and I never took a math class again. Mr. K was my differential swan song.

That said, he did teach me one invaluable lesson. Different strokes for different folks. We're not all inspired by the same topic, the same people, the same approach. There's a reason for all those different college majors -- and all those different religions. Different strokes and different folks demand and create an "infinite series" of possibilities.

Infinite series. Infinite series. Does that remind you of high school math? It reminds me of Buzz Lightyear.

By the by, I met the damn five-year-old years later. Nice kid, studying journalism. Go figure ...

Sidenote for those of you just joining the fun: Post 60 is a digression on the Creative Instigation blog, part of my 60th year celebration. This is Post 4 of the 60. Party on!

Creativity Exercise: Tell Me Your Favorite Poem

Hi! I'm back! And, as you may have noticed, I'm posting more these days. What can I say? It's a possible temporary return of the Energizer Bunny.

Whatever the reason, I'm enjoying the blog again and I hope you are. Thanks for being part of the fun!

I'm looking ahead to Poetry Month in April, and thinking I might publish a favorite poem every day. So if you have a favorite you'd like included, send it my way! After all, it's your blog too.

P.S. If you click on the Energizer Bunny link, I'm happy to report that I now exercise regularly and remember my vitamins. Almost always. Well, usually. Sometimes. Hell, I'm better than I was in 2010, people. That's progress. And good lord I've been writing this blog for a long time. 

Creativity Tips: Love What You Do

This wonderful photo was taken on April 18, 1955 -- the day Albert Einstein died. It's a shot of his office at Princeton at the Institute for Advanced Study.

Einstein was 76 years old. Clearly, he hadn't retired. He was still exploring equations and mysteries. He was still stretching his mind and our view of the universe.

It's a simple matter of A+B=C. Work You Love + Continual Stretching = Your Most Creative Self.

I'm no Einstein, but I've tested the equation and it works. And here's another theorem for you: My office will look a lot like this when I'm 76. Minus, of course, the pipe and tobacco and the blackboard brilliance.

That reminds me ... I promised a calculus story in my Post 60 debut. Maybe I'll write that this week!