It’s a special SFTW this week — the Creative Joy edition! We asked some of our favourite people to give us their take on creative joy and what it means/brings to their lives…
And finally, there are still spaces on the Creative Joy retreat in June, so if you’re feeling the pull to join please do come — it’s going to be magic! In the meantime, we wanted to bring some creative joy to YOU, right now, so we’ve put together the Creative Joy Workbook — you can download it right HERE. Print it out, scribble in it, share with whoever you think needs it. There’s journalling space inside, and lots of questions, prompts and invites to help you dig into your own creative joy (and thanks to Jo for the joyful design!)
Hot tip: I recommend answering the questions in the workbook while listening to this week’s mixtape :)
When Jen, Marianne and I started talking about doing a retreat together, we knew we wanted JOY infused through everything: through the days, the workshops, through our connections with participants and each other, through it all. We wanted to create a space where JOY could be found. The further we dug, the more it became apparent that this JOY comes from our creativity. So obvious, really. It comes from writing, and photographing, and singing, and moving our bodies, and breathing through silence. It’s found in paint and pencil, in ink and the keyboard. It lives in the books we make and the ones we read. It can be stitched and knitted and moulded and cooked.
Creative joy seems to show up easiest when we let ourselves get lost in play. When we drop our expectations and let ourselves experiment and explore. I watch my nephew do this when he’s enjoying how water pours and sand crumbles and Play Doh squishes. I feel it too when I’m someplace new with my camera in my hands. When I forget about how I got there and just sink into what I SEE.
My creative joy comes from my imagination. The excitement of the new. Sunlight. Vintage cameras. The realisation that there are so many things in the world to be photographed, so many moments to record, so many places to explore. Kissing. Hope. A two-year-old boy called Noah. My eyes — the art and practice of SEEING. Emotions, and allowing myself to feel them. Being truthful about how I feel. Wanting to get it down on the page. Books, piles and piles of books. Blogging and the community it builds. My women friends. How my sister and I inspire the best in each other. Being an aunt. Being alive.