Technology

What the body reveals about our creative process

What the body reveals about our creative process

Before I began to treat writing as a practice, I didn’t pay attention to the way my writing process felt in my body.

At best, I noticed a dull pressure in the center of my forehead whenever I would start picking at word choice or sentence structure before the work would benefit from such editing. I would lose myself in an online thesaurus, repeatedly delete and replace a comma or dash, reread and rework a single sentence because something just wasn’t flowing — and I’d never make it beyond the page (or paragraph) I was mired in. After an hour, the pressure would be a full-blown headache and I’d have to step away, disoriented to my original generative impulse and unsure how to return to that state of spontaneous creation.

On the perfect creative haven

On the perfect creative haven

I don’t write at a desk anymore — now on most weekdays, I stand on the staircase behind a baby gate while T., my 2-year-old daughter, listens to her favorite playlist piped from my laptop, which is precariously balanced on a stair post. Today, she’s tearing up the living-room floor to a combination of 1970s disco funk and Michael Jackson’s greatest hits, soon to be followed by the soundtrack to The Sound of Music. Her 5-year-old brother is usually in preschool, but it’s Saturday. As long as O. is also entertained by KC and the Sunshine Band, I have this moment to put thoughts to virtual paper before one of the kids will need food or the bathroom.