Often, I imagine all the writers and artists of the world, toiling away in our separate creative spaces, scattered, but connected by our need to create. I love to look at photographs of writers, but it’s not the portraits displayed on book jackets that I want to see, it’s those of the writer captured at work. I want to scrutinise their tools, their notes, their keepsakes – to watch the creative process at work. I think of them engaged in their work at old battered desks, piled with papers and books; at scoured kitchen tables, littered with coffee mugs; curled up in bed against a pile of cushions; or scribbling in a notebook among the bustle of a busy cafe. I love, too, to see artists in their surroundings: in huge industrial spaces filled with mysterious objects; airy attics crammed with canvases and adorned with clods of paint; or perched with easel or sketchbook on the brow of a mountain or in the hollow of a sand dune.
What we all have in common, when we’re immersed in our work, is that we’ve found our place between the worlds, where the magic of creativity can occur. The phrase ‘between the worlds’ is sometimes used by witches to describe the space generated when we cast a circle. It’s a space apart from, but within, normal life. Most of us don’t have our own dedicated ritual space, just as many of us don’t have a separate study or studio, so the circle acts as a marker, conjured from energy, in which to enact the ritual. And I believe this is also what happens when we create. I don’t cast a circle when I write or paint, but almost unconsciously, I build an intangible space around myself, forged from the energy I’m using to create. The real world becomes blurred as I get lost in words or images.
The places in which I work are varied and dependent on what it is I want to create. There’s a tiny room, packed with books, keepsakes, art and writing materials. It’s a peaceful space, with a comfortable chair and a blanket for warmth that I use for contemplation. There is the spot next to the window in our sitting room where my easel is placed, because it gets light and I can still interact with the life of the house. My creative space is also portable: it’s in my notebook, my sketchbook, my laptop. We all need a place where we feel we can create, but what space do you actually need? Is your creative space a physical one, or is it a space inside your head? None of the places I use are dedicated ones. But when I’m creating, they become sacred space of a kind, so that it’s possible to tune out the mundane things and forge something out of nothing. Magic is creativity and creativity is magic, in the sense that we’re using something we can’t see (energy), to make a physical change in the world.
If the world is nothing but energy, vibrating on different frequencies, as modern theories of physics seem to suggest, there’s nothing to stop us making creative space anywhere. And just as in magic, where the energy raised might be used to heal, to bind, to celebrate, so creative space can be used for many different purposes. Whenever we work, at that moment, in different parts of the world, there will be countless others writing, painting, sketching or sculpting, all using creative energy. If you try hard, you can feel the force of it, all that energy, like a furnace forging change. If you’re finding it difficult to focus, or to find a suitable space to dedicate to your craft, perhaps you can channel it. Consider the type of energy that you need and gather the circle around you to create your own world between the worlds.
I’ve been writing while performing on a national tour. Finding a rhythm a place to write everyday has been so tough. But at least I get to preform as my day job!
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Thanks for stopping by Megan and love the blog, though I’m still haunted by the poor hummingbird!
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What a wonderful post! Sitting here at my desk at work, I was drawn in to your space. Thank you! You’ve got me thinking about how to make my writing space at home more welcoming and “between the worlds”. This was just great!
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Thanks so much for the lovely comment, I have to say based on your blog posts, I have an image in my head of you sitting writing at a rustic kitchen table in the middle of nowhere, with the horses whinnying in the distance…
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Well, you just keep that image in your mind. I won’t burden you with reality! 😉
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This is so visually inspiring Andrea. The images you have conjured of artists hard at work creating is beautiful – you write from the heart and it’s extremely provoking. Thank you!
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Thanks Gemma, I love receiving your comments – you and the other bloggers who visit are some of those who I imagine when I think of us all creating together!
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I love this concept of ‘between worlds’. That’s exactly where we work – sitting in one place, but mentally in another. Great post.
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Thank you Karen, glad you liked it – we make magic every day, not always successful magic, but magic all the same.
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Great post and love your blog Andrea 🙂
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Thanks Karin, I’m really enjoying yours too and love your blog title.
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Such good advice, Andrea. I’m glad i found this with random post. I think i need to find the between for dealing with the 9 to 5 job, not just for writing. It would be a good buffer.
Hugs! 🙂
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Thanks Teagan, yes I could often do with that space in my day job too 🙂
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I enjoy reading about writers too. And seeing photos of them at work. I have a time for creativity more than a space. Unfortunately, it is the time I also need to go to my job. So I plug creativity when I can. Enjoyed your post. 🙂
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Thanks Sabra – it’s always difficult finding time for creativity around working – I often feel like two people 🙂
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Me either, Andrea: I don’t have a dedicated writing space per se [it’s just wherever my body and mind are!]. For a long time (almost embarrassed to say it), I used the couch, which got kind of messy at times as I’d have research papers and drafts and books and toys and other stuff piled there with me. Oh yeah, and blanket(s), as you have mentioned. Now, I’ve migrated to the kitchen’s little table and a bright light next to me. I find I lose myself when I get into a writing or creative groove, so the surroundings fall away (even the uncomfortable chair I’m in now). When the kids were younger, portable was exactly the key and it still is to some degree. Finding the writing, however, is sometimes now a challenge, since some of that stuff was written on shards and scraps and coloring book front covers, etc. Fabulous post; I think I need some world-walking. . . . seems to me that’s what a writer does. S/he walks between the ‘real’ now and the imagined thens.
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I still use the couch Leigh, that’s where I am right now 🙂 Although now that I’ve reverted to writing in a notebook I write all over the place. Good point that writing is all about walking between worlds!
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