Hi Annie!
Hope you are well. I write this post in order to give you a link to an other art forum wher it is question about psy studies about art production. Somebody is looking for information and it sounds that
it goes in the same order of ideas as your work...
The problem is that this forum is "infected" by trolls, so I didn't give your link in this thread but I give the think to you , you can go and see if you are interested or not and decide byyourself if you want to give your link or not...
http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artforum/topic_view/topic/95432/0#95459?action=post
Wish you a nice week-end!

As I'm here, I can join the real topic...I'm exactly presently in a "block" process.
2 weeks that I'm working on the same piece without finding
exit...I guess the solution would be to thraw away the paint and starting with something new!!!
No problem with that, It won't be the first time that it's occur!
The fact that still surprise me is the doubt and the idea that my work has become silent...Feelings wich are strongs!(but fortunnatly they disapeare as soon as I'm back in the mountain and/or doing a new satisying paint!)
I'm 15 years of almost constant work and this still occur. This is funny, Isn't it ?( but in a way really uncomfortable!!!)
Bisous
Chris

Hi Chris, thanks so much for the info about the other art forum, I'll check it out! I know exactly the experience you're describing, have been there MANY times! It's almost like the bottom drops out and it feels like we have absolutely nothing to offer or we start questioning if our artwork has any merit WHATSOEVER. sigh But then, yes, like you said, we find a connection into something else and that stirs our own energies and purpose. And, yeah, it doesn't seem to matter how long we've been doing it... I feel for you and with you! Thanks so much for starting this thread--exactly the level of experience I live in!

dear Anne,
I've a question...
would you qualify your book easy to read for non english native readers? (as me for example...smileys added but you don't have this gadget in your forum!!!you should!!!)

Hi Krikri! I think my book would be easy to read for non english native readers--I was careful not to make it "technical" or filled with psychological jargon. And the web designers are working on adding smileys and emoticons to this site, as well as the capacity to post photos and other images. Thanks for your feedback!

Hi Anne,
Your book "appeared" to me at the perfect time. After having success with my first book, I have been struggling with my second book (my editor has nixxed the revisions three times). I was getting really depressed and questioning whether or not I was a "real" writer and generally questioning my value in the world. Now I see what a brave thing it is to be a creative person and how it is self preservation to not want to make ourselves vulnerable (and this field is wrought with so much rejection). I always say my life would be so easy if I didn't insist on writing, but then again it would feel empty too. I am working hard at surrounding myself with supportive relationships (I joined a writer's group) and am also looking for other opportunities to play and just immerse myself in life. Any other advice?

Thank you for the gift of this book. All he best.

Hi Toni,
I'm glad you stopped in! Congrats on the success of your first book. Thank you for sharing the struggle we all know well! I resonate a lot with how hard it is to keep persevering in the face of "rejections", and how much those impact our feelings about our work and our selves. It sounds to me like you're doing good things for yourself, like joining the writer's group and looking for other opportunities for immersion. It's such a fine balance, isn't it, between expressing what is in our hearts and souls and the responding to our audience (in this case, your editor)? I hope your editor is giving you the positive feedback as well, and, if not, maybe you could ask for some. I applaud your stick-to-it-tiveness and hope that others who visit this forum might have some words of strength, encouragement, and support for you too. I'm also sure that you have a lot to offer to other folks who are experiencing similar doubts, and that you have an opportunity to support others in their process--that can be strengthening too! Don't give up and hope to see you here again soon!

I would have to say that I get blocked the most when I am doing a commission. I think it is because I am not creating something from my heart. Sort of like if someone told you what dance steps you had to do. Making you conform to positions that didn't feel natural to you. Like I have said before, I haven't figured out that magical way of getting passed blocks like that. And right now my biggest block (possibly ever) is sitting behind my studio's closed door!!! Sometimes though, if I just go in and put on some Steely Dan (or some other great music I may be in the mood for) and just START, that is half the battle! Then if I am lucky, the juices start flowing and out comes the creativity! :)

Hi Anne,

The book came yesterday. I have been too busy reading, highlighting, and writing in the margins of the introduction to log in and see what others have written. I hope it's okay to make comments and ask questions as I make progress.

I'm going to order copies for my therapist and "shrink." I'd be shocked to learn that either knows about your book but never recommended it.

Anne, you kept my attention and strengthened my hope after I read the first paragraph on page 5. The words, "support group for adult survivors of sexual abuse" made me sit up in bed. I believe "there is an association between artists and people who have been hurt or abused." That doesn't mean every creative person has been a victim or survivor. I studied with healthy artists at the Colorado Institute of Art, wishing I could be like them.

I needed to be heard when I was three. I started to stutter. I finally stopped talking. It wasn't until I was a mother of one, finally in art school, and separated from my husband that someone began asking questions about what I painted.

I had a panic attack and had to leave class the first time our male model undressed. I heard his belt buckle being undone, and I lost it.

I am on page 22 of your book. I have to read it slowly . . . In doses. The more I read; the more I realize. I'm not sure why this is all so frightening. I should be grateful knowing someone understands and is offering me hope.

You're telling me "Creativity is a matter of immersing into something else . . ." For me the "something else" is what I, and others like me, call "the collective creative consciousness."

My hands shake. I have to read more.

Thank you.

Hi Limner,
Of course it's okay for you to comment and ask questions as you go...I can appreciate the push-pull you feel as you read, especially if the words are touching you so deeply. I am so sorry you were hurt. I'm really glad you are including your therapist by getting a copy to him or her--maybe that can help, knowing you are not alone in reading it and having someone to turn to as you process your reactions. Even though it may be painful at times, I hope that in the end you can find strength and comfort in knowing you are not alone and that others appreciate your journey. I'm right here.

Hello Anne,

I caught you on NPR this week and thought the timing couldn't have been better because my work ethic has apparently evaporated.

About ten years ago I was disabled with severe brain damage. That event was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I've gotten to know myself intimately, and learned to appreciate many of the small, beautiful parts that make up life.

Though I could no longer do much physically, I found that had the desire and ability to write, and with my disability came all of the time I needed to exercise my creativity.

I've sold several pieces of nonfiction and cranked out a weekly newspaper column for a couple of years, but I found the fiction markets to be another world altogether -- dark and sinister. My fiction has won several contests and awards but not one word of it has ever been sold. There are two novels and piles of short stories in my desk, and I've tried unsuccessfully for years to get someone in the publishing business to just read this work.

A few months ago the frustration boiled over and I swore off doing any more fiction, deciding to concentrate solely on nonfiction projects. The irony is, since making that decision I haven't written a word of any kind. When I sit at the computer today, I go through auctions on eBay or play games. There's no fire.

If you've got your boots on and would like to take a swift kick, I'm waiting.

Hi John,
Thanks for stopping in! I'm not wearing boots so there will be no swift kicking here! But I do want to say I appreciate the difficulty involved in selling fiction work, and, even worse than that, to be in the powerless position of not even being able to get someone to look at your work. I think nothing zaps our spark, or our capacity to immerse, more than a sense of helplessness. And then we eventually lose hope for being responded to at all, and give up in retreat. This is where I believe we must reach for connection with others and immerse in alternative realms, such as play, spirituality, appreciating someone else's art, etc. in order to be revitalized and strengthened to turn back to our own creativity. Maybe playing the video games is just right for now! And sharing here might also help! Anyone else have any thoughts or words? (I'm still trying to drum up conversation amongst other people who might be reading this!)

I'm still working through issues I didn't know existed. Your book pokes at places I've avoided because they're enveloped in darkness. I stopped on page 98 a week ago.

"The Presence of Heroes" became a stop sign. All of my heroes died of "clay feet." My father was my first hero. He died in my heart the first time I saw him abuse my mother. He was an unsung Vietnam hero. He used to be a father, a teacher, a storyteller, a believer . . .

Last Wednesday, I learned that my father was proud of me. He thought I was smart.

Growing up I felt he pimped me by dragging me before his friends to show off my dancing skills. I believed he used my report cards to make those same friends envious because their kids didn't make all A's. I thought he brought home men for the wrong reasons when I came home for spring break. They were principals, teachers . . . They were men he thought were intelligent enough to meet his daughter. My response had to have hurt him.

I can't read the chapter about heroes yet, because I'm dealing with shame, the shock of being wrong for so much of my life.

This is making me cry. I almost hate this book!

I spent most of my life hating my hero. I prayed he would die in Vietnam. I didn't come home for his funeral when he died. I visited his grave once, when I did genealogy work several years ago.

My hero is dead. The one person who believed in my talents, encouraged me, taught me I could do anything, the first man to ask what I thought about issues he would never ask anyone else.

He gave me my first camera. He sent it from Vietnam. My mother never let me use it. She gave it to me a week before Daddy came home.

He gave me one of his textbooks after he passed an exam to earn a higher rank. I was just a girl, but he smiled as he stood listening to me read. The story was "The Fox and the Grapes."

Daddy taught me to believe that the world was mine if I was prepared. I wish he'd taught me the truth about how the world might see me.

I believe I will lose the shame, guilt, and doubt that plagues me now, in the form of writer's block. I will stop asking how a young black girl could "know" how to draw, paint, read, write, take amazing photographs, and possess secret talents without being taught. I will stop being afraid of the gifts.

I just need to make past page 98 first.

Wow. I can relate to John not being able to write after deciding to switch genres. I decided to learn how write the perfect short story before tackling a novel. I became good at it.

I took a workshop several months ago and I felt steered towards writing essays. Taking that leap paralyzed me.

I remembered writing essays in high school. My classmates hated the word essay. I loved it. (In secret.) But I took the recent prods to write essays to mean I wasn't so great at short stories after all.

The informal essay was news to me, so I didn't know what I was doing. I couldn't write because of fear. My first assignment was an embarrassment. It was stilted, awkward, and lacked even a hint of style. I almost dropped the class.

The fear I felt was overwhelming my desire to write. The unknown, changing gear mid-stream, stepping outside my comfort zone, changing ponds . . . Scary stuff was keeping me from being creative.

The biggest fear got me over that hump. It was the fear of failing. So, I went to Barnes & Noble. I pored over the teaching sections that offered titles like, "How to Write an Essay." I bought two books meant to teach students, and I used them.

I had experience to fall back on: I felt the same way when I had to learn to use watercolors for the first time. I was used to acrylics and gouache. I stopped painting for three years because of a fear of watercolors.

I said all that because I'm a native Texan and we tend to be long-winded. But. In my soul I know it's fear that stops me from writing.

I'm willing to bet you'll take the first step to recovery if you write an anecdote from when you were a kid. Just write the way you remember it, without editing or thinking of someone else seeing it. You'll be surprised at what happens.

This is me speaking from experience ---> :)

I was able to read through to page 117, amazed at my ability (or nerve) to try to talk someone else through their fear, when I'm paralyzed myself. Empathy is powerful. :)

The truth of "the absence of twinship relationships in childhood" makes me feel understood for the first time. Someone understands exactly how I feel. It's amazing.

Feeling alone and being lonely are totally different. I love solitude. When I feel a need to connect with people I go out. I have no friends. You were right about the twinship I felt with my writing instructor.

I'm suddenly very tired. I can sleep now.

Thank you.

Limner,
I was so glad to read you here--I had been wondering how you were doing. I'm so sorry the book is pulling up such pain for you. I sincerely hope it will also help you work through some of it--if nothing else, to help you make sense of it a little more. Thank you for sharing such powerful words and feelings, and for offering empathy and help as well! You really do have a gift for writing. Thank you.

Hi Anne,

May God bless you for being you. I've been waiting all my life for the help you're giving me. I have to take it in small doses, but I'm determined to end this deadlock. Creative time sometimes passes, never to return. I finally woke to that.

Writing about personal pain, fear, doubt, and need is so hard I almost hyperventilate sometimes. So I have to write fast, as if I'm writing to get it all down before I forget. (I don't worry overly much about editing here.) It's becoming easier because of the anonymity offered. You've created a safety zone; I can be honest here. Thanks for the privilege.

Your book excises a lot pain that has festered since I was three. My physical therapist used to remind me that I might hate her for the pain she inflicted, but she assured me I'd love her when I could use my arm again. That's what I try to remember when I shove your book into a drawer. :)

Thanks, Limner...I'm glad you're here!