Friday Feedback With Lori Landau: Play With Your Art and Other Downward Dog Epiphanies

"How do flowers experience life? 

What do humans have in common with birds, or water or grass? 

How does the body carry and interpret 

consciousness?"

These questions opened the draft blog post of my guest host, my amazing friend Lori Landau.  The rest of the post is coming to you, soon, below.

But first a bit about Lori. 

Her poetry, essays and articles have been published in books, magazines, and online, and she has shown her art in a variety of venues in the tri-state area. 

My full of love and light friend. . . 

In addition, she's a certified yoga and meditation teacher, and offers experiential writing workshops that are deeply inspired 

by her connection to poetry, spirit, and elemental materials like water, earth, branch and stone. 

She's also currently an MFA candidate in Interdisciplinary Arts, and is working on a book about contemplative creativity.

Whew!!!

I have known Lori since we were young (young) adults, have always admired her art and poetry, and have even featured her at least a few times, like here, on my blog. 

But with all that said, she's never hosted Friday Feedback before. 

Then, a few weeks ago, we were out to dinner with my family. My husband, who is a beautiful singer, was lamenting how he doesn't really sing very much any more. He gave her a bunch of lame reasons that made me sad. I backed away from the conversation, it being one he and I have had before. 

Then Lori asked him, "When was the last time you just enjoyed it all? Played with your music? Had fun with your craft?"

The question was so pure and simple and perfect (and different than anything I would have come up with to say to him), it got me thinking how wonderful it might be if she pursued the thought a little bit more here. With me, her and YOU.

So without further ado, and springing off from her above three questions that opened this post, here she is. Lori Landau:

Daily Drawing Practice

Rilke advised the young poet to “live the questions.” I read that line when I was seventeen, the same year that I had my first poem published (in Seventeen magazine). From an early age I experienced life as a series of mysteries and the questions themselves have become a part of my cellular being, and my creative practice which is writing and making art. 

I have written poems, essays and made art since I was a teen. (Including trading poems with Gae, who wrote gloriously even before she graduated high school). In my attempt to be the best I can be, I have studied art, writing, yoga, meditation, Buddhism, and countless other things all in an attempt to learn as much as I could about myself and my crafts, and still I struggled. 

I was the quintessential, perfectionist procrastinator, better at distracting myself or making myself wrong than actually sitting down to do what I loved.

I was the quintessential, perfectionist procrastinator, better at distracting myself or making myself wrong than actually sitting down to do what I loved.

That is, until I realized that in trying to be perfect, I was going about it all wrong. I was losing out on what I loved best about making art and writing: the process of discovery.  

Daily Drawing Practice

That’s when I began to apply all of those meditation lessons and downward dog epiphanies to my writing. I realized, if I want to write and make art without all the pressure I was putting on myself, I would have to make it fun. 

Remember fun? 

It’s hard to allow ourselves to cultivate a sense of play in our culture which puts a high value on productivity.

My tutelary spirits. . . have all given me ideas for how to put the emphasis on process rather than product. 

But my best work happens when I can get out of my own way and just do what I love. Making my art and writing fun means getting curious about myself, and about the craft of writing and art. I study how other writers and artists create, by regularly reading the work of my tutelary spirits. John Cage, Jenny Saville, William Kentridge, Lao Tze, Ryokan, David Hume, Martin Heidegger, Anselm Keifer, Bell Hooks, Yoko Ono, John Berger, Twyla Tharp, Mary Oliver, Walt Whitman, have all given me ideas for how to put the emphasis on process rather than product. 

Now, I bring a sense of exploration to my own practices. I am deeply fascinated with how elements like chance and intuition affect the creative process. Focusing on that fascination means allowing myself to try things without an expectation for a fantastic outcome. 

I have found that allowing myself to just enjoy what I am doing yields much better results than over-efforting.

For instance, if I want to draw a portrait and don’t like the way it is coming out, I try drawing it with my left hand (I’m a righty) in order to unleash the intuitive mind. If I can’t come up with a brilliant poem or paragraph, (yes, I do still struggle with perfectionism sometimes), I set a timer and “free write” for 15 minutes. I have found that allowing myself to just enjoy what I am doing yields much better results than over-efforting.

One practice that really works for me is to make a drawing or write a poem as soon as I wake up. I make it a daily ritual to “gift” myself 20 minutes to draw or write while drinking my first cup of coffee. Admittedly that was harder when my kids were little, so eventually I figured out how to find little pockets of time to draw, such as when I sat in the car on the pick-up line at school. 

A large part of my practice is wandering, literally and figuratively. I let myself daydream, I carry a journal everywhere I go and write ideas down when I have them, and I get myself outside as much as I can. I believe we mirror nature, so I find it helpful to get as close to the trees and water as possible. The more I see myself through the lens of a larger world, the more connected I feel to myself and that world, and the easier it is to create. 

For me, finding a sense of fun also requires slowing down. My practices allow me to question myself. I regularly tune in to figure out what my subtle body is asking for. Sometimes all I need is a deep, full breath to get going. Other times I have to discipline myself to stick to my intention and creative routine before I get to the fun part. Finding the fun in any kind of creative practice is itself a practice that like anything else, gets easier over time. 

Can you remember when you just purely 

loved writing? 

How can you change the way you think about writing so you can bring a sense of wonder and enjoyment to what you do?

Daily Drawing Practice

Can you remember when you just purely loved writing? How can you change the way you think about writing so you can bring a sense of wonder and enjoyment to what you do? Today I’d be so curious to read a passage that was fun for you to write. Maybe you can try something new. If you usually write fiction, try your hand at a poem or a free write about something you love. No matter what you choose to share (or not), bringing a sense of play to your writing will free up your imagination. You might even surprise yourself.

The passage I’d like to share with you here is a living example of a piece of work that was really hard for me, until I allowed myself to just have fun with what I was writing. It’s an excerpt from a book that I am working on about consciousness and creativity. It is a book of poems, artwork and critical writing.  

I’ll be checking in all day to read your excerpts and comment. I always find it an inspiration to see what others are working on.

 And, remember, if you're not familiar with the RULES please read them there first!

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“The unpredictable arithmetic of being human means that at any moment something can be added, subtracted, multiplied or divided from us. That’s why the great sages teach us to cultivate practices that help us let go of our attachments and find the middle way. The middle way allows us some flexibility, and the ability to be intimately “present.”

In viewing our endless balancing act as opportunity, we can step out of our conditioned perspective that tension in relationship is a problem. In doing so, we create a small space between emotion and reaction, and in that space we can empower ourselves to make choices that serve both ourselves and the other. 

Being willing to co-exist in the moment-to-moment fluctuations of relationship creates openings through which we can more deeply experience how intricately we are tied to everything and everyone else. All of the things that exist as form, the body, with its blood, bone, veins, the natural world consisting of trees, grasses, clouds, water, soil, stone shapes us. Form is what makes essence visible. 

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To connect further with Lori, you can follow her at @LoriElleLandau on Instagram, where she often posts her drawings, or a small slice of life. You may also email her at Jesart@aol.com