creativity – Page 6 – Ginger Simpson White

this summer…

It’s the last day of August. Labor Day weekend in the US is almost here. And, no matter what the temperature and the calendar say about it, I always think of this time as the end of summer…probably (in no small part) because from kindergarten through being a high school senior, the first day of school was the day after Labor Day.

Time isn’t so delineated for me now, at least not in the same way, but that feeling must have soaked well and deep into my bones because it’s lasted all these decades since then. Most years, Labor Day weekend feels like a marker, a before-and-after line for the year, a time to look back at the past few months and take stock of the season of summer. And although summer heat impacts me more than it used to, and most summers now don’t hold the same sort of magical feel of earlier ones in my life, summer is still a season I enjoy.

This summer held lots of time with our girl. Even with her continuing health challenges and the uncertainty of how much time she has left, she enjoyed happy and energetic days these past months, and we continue to treasure each good moment she has. We went through a decluttering and reorganizing spree in July, and she helped (in her own way)!

I continued to spend time on genealogy and historical research (exploring the histories of the places my ancestors are from). I read novels. I went for walks.

There has been ongoing work on my current novel, as well as new guided journals I put together and have available on Amazon.

And, as usual, daily paint play has helped to ground me, calm me, and connect me with joy.

Continuing the trend of the past several years, the summer also held lots of anxiety and stress and challenges.

But I continue to pray and take things day by day, step by step, moment by moment.

I continue to do the things that help me. I hope you find what helps you too.

❤

time goes by…

Months and months have passed since I last put anything here. The year started out to be difficult for our household – literally, January 1st brought a challenging time – and then shifts seemed to come to the whole world as life in 2020 became something I often think of as surreal.

I’ve been spending time painting. I paint pretty much every day, even if it’s just for a few minutes, and even if it’s simply playing with putting colors on the page. Painting calms me and grounds me, and connects me with joy, so it’s continued to be an important part of my life…

And although I haven’t done many, I’ve sketched a few more of my “long-necked” faces…

I’ve reconnected with a few interests from earlier in my life. Many years had passed since using a sewing machine – and long ago, I got rid of my regular-sized machine due to lack of use and minimal space around here – but now I have this little mini one…

There have been some drives and neighborhood walks with my husband…

And lots of sweet times with our cute Chloe, who brings so much joy and light and love to our home…

I’ve been diving deep into Bible study and prayer time…

And then there’s fiction –

After quite a lengthy period of not being able to focus on reading fiction – or writing it – I’m back to doing both. It feels good to be able to lose myself in a novel… whether reading one or writing one.

I hope to soon be able to report that I’m finally finished with the current novel-in-progress. The revisions are done, and now I’m proofreading and line editing and getting the format in place for the book’s introduction into the world. No major launch – this novel has been a work-of-the-heart for me, something I’ve felt I needed to do, even if only for myself… but I do plan to have it “out there” for others who might want to read it.

So that’s a bit of my 2020. A year unlike what I expected, or wanted.

Prayer, creativity, music, dancing in the kitchen with my husband, laughing at funny shows, talking on the phone with loved ones, finding nourishing routines, deliberately connecting to joy when I can, holding onto Jesus, spending time with my husband and our cat…

These are the things helping me get through the days.

♥

remembering how much it helps to write…

Although I’ve gone through periods of time when I didn’t write much, writing (especially writing fiction) has been a through-line of my life.

Writing mini-novels as soon as I could form words and sentences with whatever writing utensils were on hand. (And I do mean “mini” – as in 3 or 4 pages of large, fat font.) Scribbling longer stories and short poems as I went through elementary, junior high, and high school. Pouring out my heart in diary entries and journals. Writing stories and novels over the decades. Writing papers and reports, and freelance greeting card work and nonfiction projects and blog posts.

Although I enjoy a variety of writing, fiction has been my big love. Having characters and dialogue in my head, and taking stories on the journey from vague thoughts in my mind to words on paper, and creating something from nothing.

When I’m writing fiction regularly, it does something to me. It does something for me.

Simply the process of working on fiction helps me.

It gives me energy, and a sense of purpose, and a feeling of being alive.

It helps me deal with day-to-day life because…well, I don’t even know how or why that happens, it just does.

Writing fiction helps me stay sane when it might seem like things are far from okay.

I KNOW all of this.

I’ve known it for a very long time. Decades.

But when I get away from writing fiction for a while, it’s as though I forget these things, at least in some way. I don’t actually forget, because I can repeat all the above to myself or to others, remembering and knowing that all of it is true. But I sort of forget – or maybe it’s that I forget on some level. Whatever it is, though, some part of me (even though I know and remember) will lose sight of the reality for me of all of the above.

And then…

I’ll get back to writing fiction regularly again.

And I’ll be reminded of the truth all over again. About how writing fiction is healing for me. How it helps me with living life. How it helps me get through.

There’s just something fiction writing gives to me that goes missing when I’m not writing fiction.

For a while this year, I got away from my fiction writing but now I’m back to it consistently. Getting out of the house to write in a different location has helped me get back into a fiction-writing routine. I grab my smallest tablet – and I recently got a small, lightweight, foldable bluetooth keyboard that I LOVE and I grab that too – toss them into my purse (because that’s how small and light they are, but they do what I need!) and I head out for an hour or two.

And I write.

For the past couple of months I’ve been leaving home to write at least a couple of days each week (usually more often). This isn’t new for me – I’ve gone in cycles of writing somewhere other than home, and now I’m in another cycle of doing it…and as with writing itself, it can feel a bit surprising to be reminded, to remember how much it helps me to go somewhere else to write.

I’m not sure why we sometimes forget what we know, but I’ve talked with enough people about this to realize it’s not uncommon. We know what we love, what makes us feel alive, what helps us…and yet, on some level, we forget or we lose track or we don’t put it into action.

Then when we do it again, it’s as though we’re reminded all over again of what a difference it makes.

I’m going to do my best to hold onto remembering for good this time.

♥