The bulk of yesterday's blog post poured out of me while I was doing my Morning Pages. A couple of days last week, my Morning Pages became work on my God-like novel (it's omnipresent, and believing that it exists takes an act of faith). A new character appeared there, quite out of the blue, as if she had walked onto my notebook determined to introduce herself.
I enjoyed Morning Pages from the get-go, but it is only now, after several weeks of doing them, that I begin to see why they are part of The Artist's Way. They are unlocking my creativity and, more importantly, giving me time every day when I have pen and paper in hand and am ready to receive it.
Traveling, sleeping
2 hours ago
3 comments:
I remember "Morning Pages." The women in my attachment parenting group gathered for "The Artist's Way" playdates many years ago.
I still have my Pages. I released a lot of stuff in those notebooks. It was a really valuable exercise and I wrote some of my best stuff not long afterwards. I don't think I want to revisit those emotions by re-reading them (and I'm not sure why I still have them, other than I tend to packrattery), so I may have a Pages burning party sometime. Let me know if you want to come!
Yes, I very deliberately do not reread them (unless it's to extract blog posts or bits of fiction or poetry from them). That's part of what frees me up to say whatever the hell I want. :-)
I tear mine up a few days after I write them. Cathartic.
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