A few weeks ago, I was looking up a farm in upstate NY where a friend works. As I searched the internet, the first relevant reference to that farm finally popped up. It was an article about a raid on the farm to arrest undocumented immigrants. I scrolled down to view the comments, and was shocked by the hatred poured out on the page. Hatred for immigrants  — both with papers and without — was expressed nakedly and often with vulgarity. But why was I shocked?

My friend at the farm is an immigrant. A documented immigrant who is too focused on creating new lives for his family to complain about the prejudice he encounters. I want these very human stories to play a large role in immigration debates. I want to challenge xenophobia. But after reading those comments, I realized you can’t fight intelligently unless you know who you’re fighting against.

If all the news and information I read fits nicely with my socio-political leanings, then how do I know what to bring to the other side?

I’m curious; when’s the last time you read news and thoughts from the other side? What if we tried to understand the roots of those views instead of indulging our initial ugh… where could we go with that? Would we ever blur the line between us and the elusive other?

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photo by mbgrigby

This blog has sat here in relative silence for the month of September, a silence that was largely prompted by a difficult time my family went through while I was visiting. I was lucky to be with my entire family during that period, and I found myself in a surreal headspace where thoughts became difficult to transfer to paper (or screen); it felt more natural to allow these thoughts the time to unfurl and grow within.

We have the absolute of the private life, the inner life so deep even we have trouble grasping it.

Then there is the private life of thoughts, the thoughts too bare, too loving, too divisive, too politically incorrect.

We have next the private life lived outside, but alone — morning bathroom rituals, a journal penned, songs belted out in a car.

This shares a blurry boundary with the private life shared, whether with one person or two: opinions admitted, feelings confessed, love made, and a laugh shared quietly in public.

… and on, and on …

I could of course go on describing, but what really interests me is what happens when the spaces on the spectrum overlap and jumble. What happens when you secretly read the journal of another, or when the diaries of a renowned writer are published after her death? What happens when feelings confessed to one person are revealed to another? And it doesn’t always need to be negative jumbles resulting in betrayal or deception — there is the woman blogging about her most vulnerable self for all the internet to see; the man speaking his most private poetry out in the street, because he just can’t bear to hold it in.

When do we draw these lines? What triggers overlap and jumble? I think technology will come to mind for many of us as a trigger, as social media has pulled much of the private life to be shared with not just one person or two, but hundreds, or even thousands. The private life may be idle thoughts that five years ago, may have been kept inside — or it may be an account of a scandalous affair. But what else?

I’m curious to know your take on these shifts… are there both positive and negative effects? What’s your experience?

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Koldo Barroso is a Spanish illustrator and storyteller who moved to the US in 2008 with a suitcase full of grotesque characters, dark stories and impossible visions. He describes his world of Art and Illusion as a mere act of “making visible and invisible world of magic, mystery and imagination.” His latest published work is a series of illustrations for Judy Dyble’s “Talking With Strangers”, the latest CD album from the legendary singer of Fairport Convention.

Koldo Barroso spoke to me about his experience during the making of “Talking With Strangers” and answered a few key questions about the creative process in illustration and storytelling.

How important is research in storytelling and illustration?

I think it’s essential because without a certain dose of reality there is no credibility and then you can’t reach your audience emotionally. If you’re creating a story, it’s very important to do your homework first and be consistent about the little details because small details can say a lot on a subliminal level. Besides that, it has never been so easy to research as it is today, with the Internet.

This was the case of the “Harp Song” illustration that I did for Judy Dyble’s album “Talking With Strangers”. It’s the largest illustration in the album for a 20+ minute-long song that tells a story about the relationship of the singer with music throughout the years. The illustration is full of details and hidden imagery. The mutant monsters are inspired in three different musicians from Judy Dyble’s musical past, the most recognizable of them is guitarist Robert Fripp. There are also elements that resemble King Crimson’s masterpiece “In The Court Of The Crimson King”, since the song features a classic Crimsonesque part and the collaboration some members of the legendary band. So these details and small elements may not be noticeable at first sight but they create a concrete atmosphere, a concrete first sight feeling. This couldn’t have been possible without research and visual resources.

What comes first, the story or the image?

This is an interesting question. I guess it depends mostly of how visual or how narrative you are. In my case, I’m a visual person first and foremost. But mainly, it depends on the project. If it’s a commissioned project to illustrate a story by someone else’s text, obviously the text rules the work. But when I work for myself, the image always comes first. Then I sit in front of it and say: “tell me your story”.

Are emotions important in the creative process?

Emotions are the key of spiritual awareness because only through them we can tell when something is right or wrong. We feel good when we see a baby laughing and bad when they cry in pain. In the creative process, it’s just about the same. Through emotions, we can explore hidden parts of ourselves, let our ego go and be ready to find things that might be hurtful but necessary for us to heal the past.

This has a lot to do with the illustration I did for “Neverknowing”. It’s a beautiful song written by the producers of the album Tim Bowness of No-Man and Alistair Murphy and which is interpreted as the recovering of something precious that was long lost. The whole album has a lot to do with that encounter with the past so I used the brambles and thorns all over the illustrations as an analogy of the old abandoned memories that keep growing up in our within. They kind of protect us but, even if it’s harmful, one day we realize that we need to face them and clean them in order to advance.

Do tight specifications make the creative process harder?

I hear artists complaining about this all the time. Nobody likes to wear tight corsets while being creative! In my case, I think it has more to do with not trying to be someone else. That’s the kind of job I never accept. When someone wants me to do a drawing just like someone else or to do something that I know from my experience will never work. It’s a matter of being honest.

Besides that, I don’t think that tight specifications should narrow down freedom and creativity but the opposite, if the specifications make sense to make the cover the needs of the project. For me, it was pretty challenging to illustrate the song “Talking With Strangers” because the lyrics are very descriptive: a woman who spends a lot of her time with her Internet friends and her dogs require her attention and pleading her to come back to reality. John Hurford had already painted this same scene for the album cover, before I was invited to join the project, and of course he did a great job. So I decided to go a little further than the lyrics and the album cover. I envisioned a ship city crossing the sky, representing the strangers from the Internet world. It’s like taking the advantage of a narrow situation and take it to the limit, pretty fun!

What happens when the story to illustrate is too abstract to put into images?

This rarely happens when you’re illustrating children’s books and novels, but very often when I work for poetry and music. I love this kind of work because I can do a parallel journey and bring a new dimension to it. I thing it’s very interesting because this way people will have different versions of the concept. In this case: the music, the lyrics, and the illustration.

For the album, I had to illustrate the song “C’est La Vie,” whose lyrics were written by one my favorite lyricists, Peter Sinfield, he is famous for his work with King Crimson and Emerson, Lake and Palmer. The song is about a man who says to his lover that he can’t tell her how much he loves her, so they end up accepting the situation in resignation until the love fades away. I decided to create a story within the story and I saw in my mind this little scene of a woman and a rock by the sea. They’re in love but they won’t tell each other. The woman needs the rock because that’s where the lighthouse that will guide her in the night is, but they just accept the situation and part ways.

How to achieve the desired result?

In my experience, the only way to achieve the desired result is by not focusing on it. The process is the most important, not the result. To be open, to be true, to be honest, to be humble, to be ready to let go, to be authentic with my work. If all this happens, the result is always right.

When you focus on the result, you don’t allow creativity to happen truthfully, you close the door to infinite possibilities that may come to you. These possibilities are gifts that we should accept from life, being humble and playing with them, letting them happen without fear and restrictions. My only restriction about creativity and ideas is that I need to feel them true, I need to feel them authentic, that they’re really supposed to be. It’s kind of an instinctive thing. When I work this way, then I feel free.

So I’m not really concerned about seeing the final work if I know that the process was authentic. For instance, in the case of Judy Dyble’s album “Talking With Strangers”, I haven’t seen a copy of the CD yet but many people has told me that it looks great. If they enjoy what they see I think it’s because they’re tuning with the feeling that I experienced during the process. So I’m very happy that they can see the result, but my joy is first and foremost in the process.

Thank you Zoë for giving me this opportunity to talk about my experience and for sharing this experience with your readers.

Koldo’s present projects are a modern fairy tale for grown up readers and a sleeve design and illustration for Kimara Sajn forthcoming CD. His latest published work is a series of illustrations for Judy Dyble’s “Talking With Strangers”, the latest CD album from the legendary singer of Fairport Convention. The album, due to release in September in the US, was produced by Alistair Murphy and Tim Bowness of No-Man and it features the collaboration of renowned musicians from King Crimson, Pentangle, All About Eve and Fairport Convention.

You can visit Koldo at www.KoldoBarroso.com. At his web site, he hosts creativity workshops such as the Kooky Pets where readers contribute with crazy ideas to create new characters every week that he brings to life with his pen.

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An uncharacteristically teeny post for me, as my family is going through difficult times and I haven’t found the focus to muse here.

Walt Pascoe posted the following message on Twitter, linking to a commencement speech by David Foster Wallace. It is an excellent read that fleshes out the ideas I had hoped to touch upon in my last post, unfolded in DFW’s eloquent, evocative language. Thank you for sharing this, Walt, and I hope you all have a chance to read it.

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photo by moriza

During a lunch meeting last week in New York, the woman I was chatting with described a conference she’d been to and said something to the effect of, “Once all the distractions and clutter of everyone’s lives were stripped away, even the people whose ideas and lifestyles had seemed to clash with mine suddenly seemed like beautiful people.”

This idea kept popping into my head as I was sitting on the subway or hanging out in cafés.  Sitting quietly in a crowded place or walking along a bustling street often washes a certain effect over me — I sometimes become almost overwhelmed with how much human thought, history, and emotion is flooding the space. I dive briefly into someone in the room — the lanky woman reading in the corner, or the old man slicing his muffin — and inevitably, that person becomes a beautiful tangle of humanness.

It’s not easy to enter that depth of uncertain perspective. It’s easier to laugh at the woman whose shorts are a wee bit too short, rather than to think about whether or not her mom used to tell her she was pretty. It’s simpler to get angry at the guy who aggressively shoved past you in the street, rather than to wonder if he’s late for his girlfriend’s opening night.

But what happens when we do explore the humanness of others? What possibilities unfold? What connections become conceivable?

Aside from our daily interactions offline, I think this is worth thinking about in online terms as well. The internet offers a new landscape, but it does not automatically mean all barriers come down. Check out Dana Boyd’s thought-provoking paper, “The Not-So-Hidden Politics of Class Online“.

What do you think?

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Sometimes simple questions are most effective at unraveling spools of thought.

When Reese asked the following question on Twitter, it ignited some ideas that had been quietly sitting at the bottom of my mind.

How often do you choose comfortable & familiar over remarkable & life-changing? What about when prior remarkable becomes comfortable?

I often make it a point to choose unconventional paths that test my limits in some way. In the words of my about page:

People aside, there are two loves in my life to which my devotion has been consistent: words and uncharted territory…

Though the implications of “uncharted territory” seem quite grand, I simply mean those areas outside my experience. I am willfully drawn to boundaries, if only for the chance to push them. This drive translates into a desire to travel and to transform the distant into the familiar.

But going along with Reese’s question, what happens when the once-distant does become familiar? Take my life in Thailand, for example. Before moving to Thailand, I had never even been to Asia. The transition inevitably came with torrents of novelty to explore, whether it was northern Thai foods, Buddhist ceremonies, or drinking styles. Two years later, it’s quite amazing to remember some of the things that once shocked and amused me, and now seem so commonplace. Once that familiarity begins to set in, so does a degree of restlessness. I crave the uncertainty of new experiences, and the way they tickle the boundaries of what we believe.

Yet the uncertainty and the novelty are also intimidating, and questions like these make me realize that I progress in waves. Moving to Thailand on my own and beginning to work independently involved a long (and ongoing!) learning and changing process. Once I started to feel comfortable, I though I should cut myself a bit of a break before pushing my limits again; but that mindset never felt quite right, and I started to wonder if I was settling into boring familiarity by remaining in Thailand. I started scheming new places to go, convinced this was the necessary next step.

And then I stopped. The more I pondered and planned, the more I realized it was no “solution” to go somewhere simply for the sake of going somewhere else. It was doing something new — not going somewhere new — that I truly craved.

The realization itself was quite invigorating, and I began pushing myself to work harder in current projects and endeavors (this blog included). That extra push of doing stuff plunged me forward through a handful of new doors, and I found the novelty and limits-testing I’d been itching for in new projects, instead of new places.  A couple of the projects were locally based — for a change from my normal tele-commute style — and this actually unveiled a whole new face of my life in Thailand.

The time to change places will come (and these six weeks of traveling are offering me plenty of place-changing!), but sometimes I have to remind myself that the more obvious changes — like moving to a new country — don’t automatically satisfy as deeply.

So… How often do you choose comfortable & familiar over remarkable & life-changing? What about when prior remarkable becomes comfortable?

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photo by ryuuji

As I write this post on a portable keyboard, staying at a flat in London with no internet, I’m becoming sharply aware of how a blog’s flow can be perfectly suited to the flow of life on the move. The willingness to allow ideas and impressions to unfold as they arrive, knowing that they can be reshaped and reconsidered as they enter new contexts and later times. This also made me keenly aware that I am still sometimes scared to allow Essential Prose to move forward in this way. I haven’t updated the blog in nearly two weeks, because every time I began a post, I was too overwhelmed by how much I wanted to say and how little time I had — and so I ended up writing nothing.

I’m reminded of how important it is to accept uncertainty if we want to learn from it — to allow thoughts and ideas to unfold on the page, instead of only simmering inside my mind. To expose them to the eyes and breath of other people, to test the edges of my own mind as the ideas give birth to voice.

In the spirit of respecting this process of unfolding, I’m consciously deciding to allow myself to practice brevity while blogging during this trip. By allowing myself to not say “everything,” I hope that I’ll allow certain details — the small pictures — more time and space to expand. You’ll likely see a mix of posts short and long over the next several weeks — some will be written by me, and some will be guest posts that I’m very excited to share with you. I’m hoping that this trip will allow Essential Prose to try new modes of expression, as my own senses are filled with places new and old.

How do you balance the big picture and the small picture?

How do you think brevity and uncertainty can be allowed, without risking being superficial or neglectful?

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photo by hiddedevries

It seems that most of us have a deeply ingrained acceptance of the value of storytelling. When we meet an old friend for coffee to catch up, for example, we use old stories to cement connections and new stories to build identities. If you’re a small business owner, surely you’ve heard the cries to use storytelling in your marketing. If you’re in the nonprofit world, you’re likely tired already of being lectured that no one will support your cause unless you’re telling the story well.

But for all this chatter about stories, how many of us actually consider ourselves storytellers? How often do you consider your channels of narration and your audience? How often do you explore the implications of each story?

I spent last week working with a dear friend who I’m lucky enough to collaborate with on various projects. We were working on a sensitive project, interviewing people from Burma. I’ve always loved the process of interviewing, but doing three- to four-hour sessions of oral history interviews brought my love and respect for the form to a whole new level. Imagine the story as a well-worn blanket, tossed across the floor in a heap. These interviews were like the delicate process of unfolding each tangle, smoothing out each crease. The stories were intense and captivating, and the process of hearing and helping the story unfold was fascinating. I can’t give more details on the project at this moment, but I’ll let you all know when I’m able to discuss more.

Along these lines, here are a few questions that have been swimming around my mind these days … I’ve written some brief thoughts on each one, and I’d love to see you contemplate them in the comments section too:

• Where are you telling stories — what channels are you using? Why?

With the people closest to me, I maintain an open, ongoing narration that weaves the internal in with the external. These conversations feel essential to our relationships, and the process of speaking these stories is a crucial step in processing them. I tell a lot of stories on this blog too — again, a means of connecting and processing. My pen-and-paper is another channel that I’ve recently decided to revive — not my notebooks, though I use those every day, but my bedside journal for fleshed-out contemplation. Every time I put together a photo album on Facebook, I’m building a story of how my life is these days. I’m trying to be more conscious of this as I’m wading the waters of multimedia, looking for meaningful ways to tell stories.

• How often do you allow someone to really tell you their story? I mean, really gracing that person with your full attention and a desire to absorb their story.

Sometimes I become hyper-aware of how much we can drift in and out of our conversations. When I’m talking to someone over coffee, or in between working on projects, I sometimes feel that we accept distractions a little too much. Not that every interaction needs to be full, intentional communication — chatter serves its purpose too — but when I notice attention getting fuzzy, I try to really dive into that person’s story. Doing interviews with all sorts of people constantly reminds me how much both parties can learn and evolve through the deep telling and absorption of stories. When stories are written, do they automatically receive more weight?

• Are you using stories to cement the past or to build a new path? To preserve a long-held narrative, or to explore a new one?

There are certain stories that seem to pop up every time I’m getting closer to someone, or every time someone is asking about my life and how I came to where I am today. It feels weird when I notice these little narratives that maintain the same form, because I realize that I use them to build my identity. But sometimes I take a step back and realize that the story needs to be opened up a bit — hindsight, after all, brings a lot of new insights into the mix, and it never hurts to re-explore even your own narratives. When I tell people how I ended up in Thailand, for example, I  become aware of how many factors and parts of me are neglected in the way I tell it. We can never show the whole picture, but it’s worth aiming to accept a wider view sometimes.

In my experience, committing to exploring other people’s narratives almost always triggers me to question and open up my own stories. And that applies to my personal stories, but also to the narratives of history or politics or beliefs that I’ve soaked up over the years. Of course you could always just challenge these views with a newspaper article or a book, but the effect often resides more deeply within you when it comes from a personal connection through opening to someone else’s story.

What are your thoughts on these questions? What are your channels, who is your audience?

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photo by doubledareyaa

I connected with Lisa Baldwin of Divine Order several months ago, after being intrigued by her laid-back yet insightful approach to simplifying and de-cluttering. Lisa is a master of clearing space, minds, and time, and she offers a fresh, empowering perspective to us creative folks. I’ve been hoping to get her on this blog, and now that she’s generously agreed to an interview, you can all vicariously pick her brain with me!

Now seems like the right time to publish this interview, as Lisa is working with Leonie on a “Divine Decluttering & Magical Space Clearing e-course” that guides you in the process of creating a space that not only feels right for you, but also supports your projects and passions. Lisa and Leonie have offered me warm words of support and guidance many-a-time, so I’m very happy to support this unique, wonderful project. When I first stumbled upon Leonie’s work, I thought she was too hippie-woo-woo for us to really relate, but I’ve since discovered that her beautiful values make her work completely accessible and appealing to even the skeptics among us. As a team, Lisa and Leonie create a pretty awesome dynamic. The e-course is geared toward the ladies, but this interview is valuable for everyone!

Interview with Lisa Baldwin

1. How much do you believe physical clutter affects our mental processes? Does a messy desk open the door to a scattered mind?

Clutter is very much in the eye of the beholder – some people are genuinely happy surrounded by a lot of stuff and would find it difficult to work without it. Others get irritated by even the tiniest mess. Most of us are somewhere in between.

The important thing to consider is how you feel about your space. Is it supporting you or holding you back? Do you feel comfortable or stifled? If you feel held back or stifled by your space, then that’s going to affect you regardless of the actual amount of stuff. The effects can be surprisingly far-reaching – focus, confidence and energy can all be affected by a space that feels icky to you. Sometimes we don’t truly recognise that until we start clearing.

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2. We all know the stereotype of the messy creative. But in my personal experience, it’s often tough to be creative when your space is stuffed with clutter. Is there a balance for people who want space for unrestrained creativity, but who don’t want a crowded, chaotic workspace?

Well, the creative process itself is messy — that’s just how it rolls — but the finishing is also part of the process and that’s where you get to make the internal and external space for the next project. So maybe there are parts of what you do that thrive in a little chaos, but there are other parts that need space and order. When you take a mindful, compassionate approach to clearing, you can allow for both needs, either physically or in terms of time.

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3. How did you end up as a “professional simplifier and space-maker”?

I got interested in clutter because I had a lot of it. My home and my life felt overstuffed and overwhelming. As I cleared more space for myself, I realised just how much all that stuff had affected me and how powerful the clutter clearing process could be, and I wanted to help others experience that. It’s about so much more than a pretty space or the perfect container – I help people make space for their awesomeness.

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4. You once commented on a post I wrote about consuming vs. creating, and you wrote:

“What surprises me is that while my clients arrive ready and willing to let go of stuff, few have seriously considered buying less. I don’t mean that as a criticism – to me, it reveals the conflict between a desire to live more simply and the effects of growing up in a time when shopping became an accepted (and expected) leisure activity. (Yes, 1980s – I’m talking about you!) We want to have less, but we’re not quite ready to buy less.

My belief is that we’ve been slowly tip-toeing out of the age of consumption for some time now. It’s a slow shift but we’re noticing that more stuff does not equal more happy.

My hope is that we are now entering an age of discernment. An age where, instead of being distracted by the pursuit of baubles and gadgets, we measure the quality of our lives by the quality of our time, our relationships, and our contribution.”

Do you think decluttering/purging/simplifying often leads to a lasting lifestyle change, or do most people end up reverting back to the former state of clutter/consumerism?

Decluttering is an ongoing process and it can be a lot like changing eating habits or starting an exercise program. It’s so tempting to try to change everything at once, yet that’s the quickest route to burnout; we end up feeling deprived or overwhelmed and go straight back to our old ways. Then, for extra fun, we beat ourselves up because we’ve failed again and that’s not very motivational at all. Who wants to set themselves up for that?

With patience and compassion, we can make tiny shifts over time that add up to sustainable change. Clutter clearing is an act of self-care, not a one-day endurance event. When space-making is approached as a long-term lifestyle change, it’s far more likely that it will last. We become more aware of how stuff comes into our lives, and how much time and energy it takes to manage it all.

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5. Why is it so difficult for some of us to clear space and simplify? Are messy people incurable, or do you think we can all cultivate the habits of simplifying and space-clearing?

There are all kinds of reasons why space clearing and simplifying can be difficult. Overwhelm can be a big issue — knowing where to start, where to finish, or trying to do too much at once can all make a nap look like a better option.

Feelings of guilt and shame can also make it difficult — if you know you’re going to spend your clearing time beating yourself up, then avoiding it is a perfectly sane and reasonable thing to do.

Then there’s the follow-up stuff that gets overlooked — a one-off purge can be wonderful, but without changing some habits here and there, it’s easy to slip back to where you started.

Are messy people incurable? Well, I’m a messy person by nature, but I also crave space, order and simplicity. If you looked at my desk mid-project, you would never guess what I do for a living, but my recovery time is so much faster now. I have less stuff to manage, and I have a good idea of where to put it all when I’m done making a mess.

I believe that we can all find the sweet spot where we can be our messy selves, if that’s who we are, but also be supported by our space. When that happens, we can spend less time looking for the paintbrush and more time making the art, literally or metaphorically.

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What does your creative space look like? Do you flourish with a wild, messy workspace, or do you need a clutter-free canvas?

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You can connect with Lisa on Twitter at @zenatplay, and if you’re interested in the e-course, click here!

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Add your comments below, or click the title of this post if no comment form is visible!

Note: The above links to the decluttering e-course are affiliate links, which means that if you sign up for the course using one of those links, I get appreciation money for helping Lisa and Leonie find their right people for the course. As always, absolutely no pressure to use those links!

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