I believe the same is true for all the arts. There is craftsmanship, and there is art. We struggle to master our craft, hoping to create something worthy of becoming art. We don’t have to do that. There is pleasure in craftsmanship. But when artistry happens, we know something special has occurred. The creation is exhilarating, for both the artist and the audience.
It has been a good week. A lot of volunteer tasks are getting done… various things for the Eastern Shore Writers Association, some photos for a book on the War of 1812, preparing a photography course, finished a writer’s blog interview, and contributing to a workshop project for The Writer’s Center…but one I overlooked was my own inspiration and creativity. That happens to us, doesn’t it? Time is a fickle mistress, sometimes revealing, but often steeped in denial.
That came to an end yesterday. I was blessed to be with other writers listening to a poet and friend, Anne Colwell, speak on “poetic thought.” Her remarks struck a chord with me. Whether writing prose or poetry, much of an author’s voice comes from the sound and flow of language. It is that wonderful music that creates lasting images in our memories. One can extend that to photographic art. Even in silence, the image creates its own cadence within us. It is the magic of the artist’s voice.
I hope to carry this inspiration with me into the week ahead…soothed and awakened.