Creativity and Resilience (thoughts from class)

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This post first appeared on the blog for Dr. Linda Garcia’s course “Networks and the Creative Process” at Georgetown University. We discussed the relationship between society and creativity in consideration of Weimar Germany.

 

In the first pages of Peter Gay’s book “Weimar Culture: Outsiders as Insiders” I was most struck by this descriptive phrase: “exiles… did their greatest work in enforced residence on alien soil.” The names of these exiles are not so foreign to us: Albert Einstein, Erich Fromm, and the sociologists of the Frankfurt School. This prompted me to think about what it means to be a social outsider, and how that often fuels creativity.

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Life in a Small World

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Years ago, I was a blog-happy missionary, bouncing around the world with nothing but a 65-liter frame pack and a lot of good intentions. I came home with a lighter pack, but a heavier load of the stories and images and love of people… like Isaac in Malaysia.

Just after he dropped us off at the train station to leave his city of Ipoh, Isaac sent me a goodbye text. It said, “See you in a small world.”

I haven’t seen Isaac since then, but our world is definitely small, and I definitely see him in it. I will never hear or read the news without picturing the faces of my friends. So with Ukraine spinning into chaos lately, this is what it looks like for my world to be small: Continue reading

Scrapbook Pages

One of my classes this semester focuses on creativity. We’re looking at what it means to be creative, how creative people change their domains, and how the architecture of their social worlds matter. But we’re also making scrapbooks to document our own creative process. If it weren’t for the book I have to read each week, it would hardly feel like a class at all. This act of putting pen to paper–freely–has given me space to just be myself. No parameters, no word counts. Nothing is more musical to a grad student’s tired ears.

As I’ve built my scrapbook and delved into how and what I create, I’ve realized that I most enjoy making things–and I care that much more–when it’s something I share.

So here are a few pages I’ve assembled so far. I’ll be sharing more as I continue to work.

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Superb Owl Commericals and Social Assumptions

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On Sunday, I had two thoughts immediately following the multi-lingual “America is Beautiful” Coca-Cola ad:

“Wow, that was stunning.”

and

“…cue the backlash.” *cringe*

As an anthropology enthusiast,  former world-traveler, and general people-lover, I enjoy such celebrations of cultural diversity. (…even when it comes from a company like Coca-Cola, who doesn’t exactly have a clean history of ethical marketing. But I’ll set that aside for a moment.) Even so, I was not able to enjoy Coca-Cola’s celebration for long. I quickly anticipated what the fringe conservatives of the Internet would say in the name of patriotism, and I knew what articles the left-leaning blogs would write to properly shame them. I think we’ve all grown accustomed to this pattern.

But when the inevitable public shaming of all of the mean response tweets did appear in my newsfeed, it revealed something alongside ignorance and racism:

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Anecdotes from the Ivory Tower

Did you guys see this article a while ago? About why we’re all so unhappy? It’s definitely worth a read. But if, for whatever reason, you don’t click that link, the whole thing is summed up nicely in this graph:

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I’ve been thinking about this article since I read it because that’s what I do. Aside from noticing all of the enviable things in your life (yeah, you…), I started looking at my own life as if it were only what I share on Facebook. That life is fairly wonderful:

I have a cool GA job at a famous, fancy school.  I live with a handsome web developer who happily supports both of us.  Our happy wedding pictures are everywhere, and we spend weekends exploring our trendy new city.

Those things are true and I am grateful for them, but they are not the fullness of my experiences. So I want to hand you a few stories the way I handed our church group a plate of slightly-burnt, flat chocolate chip cookies one of the first times we met with them:
I just don’t want you guys to have a chance to think that I have it all together.”

These stories aren’t directly happy or hopeful, but they are real. I think we all need more real.

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This is Not a Food Blog

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But we all love food, don’t we? So you won’t mind a few pictures & recipes? Great.

I love a kitchen experiment: seeing just how hard it really is to make something. It’s like science, chemistry, the ultimate multi-tasking. And the best part of all that work is that you get to eat it. 

(Usually. I’m very proud of how far I’ve come since I confused vinegar for vegetable oil in a boxed brownie mix. I was 9. And that one time I confused powdered sugar for flour in banana bread. I was not 9.)

My latest obsession is making my way through this entire book:

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After introducing us to this Columbus, OH favorite, my friend Jermaine helped me try my hand at ice-cream making last summer. We made Goat Cheese & Roasted Apricot ice cream, because there are few edible things in this world that I love more than a good cheese. It was delicious, but rich. My friends thought it tasted “odd”, and I couldn’t finish the whole quart on my own.

But the craft of homemade ice cream was just too fun to call a one-time thing. So when Jermaine gave me my own copy of Jeni’s cookbook as a wedding gift, and my Uncle Pat gave me an ice cream maker, I sort of went nuts.

I made about 15 quarts of ice cream in a month. 

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The DC Decision

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Sitting to write this feels like coming out of hibernation.

You may assume my digital silence is due to my status as a newlywed… at least, I’ve heard the assumption once or twice. But as a wise friend told me, “being married is not the work of busyness.” I’d sooner attribute my lack of public writing to the reality that I have Kyle as a constant and active outlet for all of my ideas and thoughts. I feel less compulsion to add to the Internet noise.

But aside from reducing my presence here, it’s a damn good thing I have that man around. Because my time spent not online lately has been spent preparing for our first big adventure together: moving to Washington, D.C.

If you’ve talked to me at all in the past year, you knew this was coming. But what we didn’t publicize so much was that

we didn’t know. At least, not for sure.

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Marriage & Maurine

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A friend asked me today to blog about marriage.

And I’d really, really like to.

Three weeks ago, my life changed forever. Maybe there is something important to say about it. Following a time-warp dreamworld of honeymooning in Northern California, my husband and I came home to a week of work, followed by a week of grief.

As much as I want to delve into the complexities and lessons of this baby marriage, it is hard to think past the loss of my Aunt Maurine. My heart is heavy, my body is tired, and mind can hardly catch up.

I haven’t yet experienced enough of marriage to have any complete thoughts about it, but I have thoughts as far back as I can remember about Maurine Rukes.

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On Freedom & Farandolae

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Nine days.

I am getting married in nine days.

So all of these long-winded thoughts on commitment, discipline, sexuality, relationships, conflict, and family are about to be tested. But when I pull my thoughts up from those depths, this thought reigns:

how will I ever get ready for any special occasion without having a girl roommate to share things with? 

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