Creative Spaces

A few weeks ago, as I traveled ever so slowly on the 101, I was listening to NPR's All Things Considered. They have a segment called Creative Spaces. It explores the places where artists, musicians, writers and actors go to escape, create, find inspiration, relax and rejuvenate. That particular day, Phylicia Rashad talked about finding sanctuary and solitude in the New York Botanical Garden. A few other folks have also discussed their creative places.

It's fascinating how some artists' havens sometimes become their prisons. They find or create this environment that starts out as a source of creativity, but over time becomes the only source. How does that happen?

I suppose some artists would consider the creation of art mysterious, magical or even sacred. For them, the place and time must be fixed and there must almost be a ritual, an established routine to start the process. For others, their approach must be more workmanlike in nature. Clock in and clock out. It doesn't matter where or when. All that matters is that the artist has the appropriate tools to create.

This got me wondering what bloggers, photobloggers or online journalists need to create. What tools? A laptop, a digital camera, a pen, a pad of paper, the margins of a newspaper? Where? Outdoors, indoors, in a cubicle, on a train, at home, in the shower?

I prefer a pad and pen or my Palm V (with keyboard) and someplace outside. My regular weekday creative spaces vary. One of my favorites is the table shown here. To reach it from the office requires a walk over the river and through the (manmade) woods.

The walk is part of the space. It's a warm up. The repetition of putting one foot in front of the other helps my brain shift gears. A walk to the train station, a walk to the park, a walk to the cafe. The form of transportation can affect the mindset.

When I sit with a pad of paper, my inner-editor takes a coffee break (which reminds me, a good cup of coffee can be a critical tool, too) and allows the writing or blogging to flow. The Palm V works like a pad. The small screen doesn't give my inner editor a chance to backtrack and censor thoughts or rework sentences.

The table is a cool creative space. Part of what tickles my mind is how close it is to "civilization", but how remote it feels. It's a secret spot out in the open. I imagine it would lose some if its magic were it to become popular and populated. There is the occasional jogger and cyclist, but they pass through quickly. They're part of the background, like the birds or squirrels (though dressed in tighter and brighter clothing than any bird or squirrel I've seen).

While at Disneyland, I sought out similar creative nooks, attempting to find a moment of solitude, a reprieve from the masses. The fifth floor hotel balcony. The table between the bookstore and magazine kiosk in Downtown Disney. The rocking chair by the rustic fireplace. The bench along the meandering trail behind the Grizzly River Run. The places were there if you looked for them.

And that's true wherever you go. It's only a matter of having the tools, the time and finding a space where you feel safe enough to let your creativity run wild.