In her artist statement, she describes her pieces as “imagined physical spaces brimming with creative energy.” The concept of a garden is a rich one for her--she links this to “her childhood garden in England - a place of her creative origin, where she learned to create, imagine, and play.”
Rebecca has printed up some lovely postcards featuring her images and my poems. To celebrate her exhibit, I wanted to give some of these away! I’ll send out five sets of these postcards (each set contains three postcards with her paintings on one side, and my poems on the other).
To enter, answer this question: What is your place of creative origin? What places have helped you learned to be creative and playful? You can either comment below, like/comment on this post on Facebook, or reply via Twitter (I’ll reply to the winners to get mailing information). You can enter until Sunday at noon--at that point, I’ll randomly select winners and report back!
These are great. Love the collaboration between the two of you.
ReplyDeleteMy places of creative origin: books and spaces filled with art and music.
Places that have helped me learn to be creative and playful: TweetSpeak Poetry and Twitter (where we hold poetry jams).
I might be a bit late to enter but my place of creative origin are places where the weather or the human hand has shown it's influence. From the rust on the side of warehouse to the tools in a woodworking studio, I am entranced. There is something about the worn objects in these spaces that gets me thinking about making something to celebrate their textures.
ReplyDeleteWay late for your contest, but timing aside, I HAD to respond. Creative origin--absolutely the sunny, wood-floored public library of my childhood--where I read and reread favorite books and dreamed of adventures and writing stories.
ReplyDeleteAnd the places that help me learn to be creative and playful--at least two immediately come to mind. Writing my daily poetry site, which keeps creativity fresh and on the move, and twice a year weekend getaways with a group of old, old friends--none of them even like poetry, but encourage me anyway--But the truly odd timing is this--I just returned from one of those weekends and posted a quickly written poem titled Oasis. Then checked in on the Storialist, as I like to do each morning, and read this post and your own--vastly different and lovely but identically titled poem, Oasis. Oh, this creativity thing--it's out there and sometimes makes me shiver at how it shows itself, as if people on opposite sides of an ocean both dipped their toes in at the same time.