Every Quest Does Not Start Here
When it was first suggested that I write a story about the art and music scene in Floyd for the local paper, it felt like I was being asked to spin straw into gold. I tried to pitch a weekly arts column in an effort to break down what seemed like an impossible task into doable parts. But the editor had something else in mind. An insert special all about Floyd was already in the works and she was interested in a one time story on the arts.
Once I stopped hyperventilating, I plopped myself down in my rocking chair to gather my wits. How could such an expansive subject even be approached? Music in Floyd is almost a sacred thing. I don’t play an instrument. I’m not a visual artist. I didn’t feel qualified.
But I do know the story of the changes that have taken place in Floyd in the last two decades. I do have an appreciation and respect for local traditions. I know about the merging cultures here, local and the back-to-the-land artists who starting coming in the 1970’s. I remember the seeding that has led to the flowering, making Floyd a rural center for the arts.
Following a trail of thoughts that began to glimmer, I started taking notes. Soon, they turned into a sketched outline, like a blueprint to build the ark, I joked to myself. I made a note to collect some quotes from local artists and musicians, which happens to be every other person in Floyd. By this time, I started to believe that I actually could write such a story. Once I had a first sentence in place, I knew there was no turning back.
The process I go through when taking on a new writing project is frequently predictable. Whenever I go outside my comfort zone, a sense of panic comes over me. After the panic plays out, I begin to view the source of my discomfort as a challenge. 
The challenge prods me to do some problem solving and to begin to collect the tools and information I might need. Then something magical happens. The challenge begins to feel like an opportunity; a map to a new adventure; a chance to distill events down into a story I can tell, one about people and some of the good things they do.
Writing is sticking your neck out. When I read something I’ve written published in print, I often feel shaky, like I don’t even know who wrote it. The part of me that’s a writer is not necessarily the same as the everyday person most people see. For me there is a hermitic quality that goes along with being a writer. Sometimes when I’m home writing for days at a time, I stumble upon and tap into an archetypal place. Drawing from the well where storytellers, fairy characters, and creation myths live, I feel protected as a part of something larger. But often there’s a “disconnect” between what happens in that world and the personal me I have to inhabit to socialize and grocery shop.
I initially resist the immersion that some writing takes because each time a new path has to be created or an old one has to be re-found. I don’t know where it starts. I often don’t feel up to the hard work it takes to be a writer. I know I’m going to lose myself. Even if I’m not visibly working on the writing task at hand, I’m constantly thinking about it. I could get it wrong. I could miss the turn. The unknown scares me. But In the end it’s always the same. I lose myself to find myself. I take field notes.
Post Notes: Story on the arts soon to follow. My other Floyd Press Stories are HERE.
April 1st, 2008 7:50 am
Well said Colleen. Do you know when the article is supposed to be published?
April 1st, 2008 8:55 am
It came out this past Thursday, the 27th. Do you get it mailed there?
You didn’t recognize the photos? I took them in the fun mirror house at Virginia Beach.
April 1st, 2008 9:41 am
I think you are indeed the perfect person to write the article. You do have a great respect for the music and history of the arts and music in Floyd. You appreciate tradition. And you are an excellent writer.
I think it is a bit nerve racking because there will always be some one who doesn’t like what you’ve written. There is always the one fussy critic but those people are going to complain regardless. Just remember all those that enjoy your work.
April 1st, 2008 12:17 pm
a brilliant piece of authentic writing about your quest and ethic to be authentic when you do your job of writing. but it’s not just a job for you. as we know “jobs don’t work”. you pour so much of your self into your assignments and then in the mix you discover even more of your self. it’s kinda like the motto
“you gotta spend money to make money”.
you got it in the bank girl!!! cuz you do spin gold with words.
April 1st, 2008 1:11 pm
“I lose myself to find myself”
There is much wisdom in that sentence, Colleen!
April 1st, 2008 5:05 pm
This is a wonderful description of your creative process—and in fact, I can very much relate to it…! The circumstances may be different, but the “feelings” are very very similar…!
I don’t think I could have put it down so perfectly Colleen. Brava to you! I look forward what you wrote about The Arts, In Floyd…!
April 1st, 2008 6:48 pm
Not an artist, Colleen? I disagree! You are an artist whose medium of choice is words instead of sound, paint, clay, wood, metal, or some other medium. I look forward to reading your latest creation!
April 1st, 2008 7:16 pm
I agree with the above comment.
Well said and a great quest. xo
April 1st, 2008 8:01 pm
Well, I do recognize the literary arts as an art, so I think I’ll change the front to “I’m not a visual artist.” Thanks for helping me clarify that point, Jeff and Sherry.
April 2nd, 2008 7:19 am
I am looking forward to reading this article. I think you were the perfect person to write it and the editor seems to have known that. Creating is always such an interesting affair…
April 2nd, 2008 9:07 am
Loved reading this and will look forward to reading the article. I joined a Writers Group last night…so fun! I am sticking my neck out by signing up to have a piece “criticqued” in June. I admire your courage. 🙂
Susan
April 2nd, 2008 11:13 am
you are a great person to write this, colleen. definitely share it with us.
the merging of the traditional and the new, progressive, and bohemian is one of the things i love about floyd. it’s kind of the embodiment of me in the form of a town. 🙂
April 7th, 2008 8:39 pm
As you describe your writing cycles, and the tasks of emptying, facing the unknown, to be filled again I am saying, “Ah,yes. That!” That is what I understand soul work to be. We might do it in any number of forms. Perhaps it is easier to trust these cycles if you have been raised a woman, trusting the filling and emptying of our moon cycles. But men do this too. It is a story I never tire of hearing, one where the heroine or hero walks through fear, forsakes the distractions thrown up about her, and makes a vessel of herself for something of Spirit to flow through. I like to think each of us who does this holds the hand of two others. I believe the chain of us is strong and circles the world many times. Thank you for the intimate way you have revealed yourself here.
Rosemary