Hello Everyone! This has been an exciting and busy series of microseasons for me as I begin a new phase of my professional career. While I’ve been consumed in learning an entirely new way to care for patients, I want you to know that all is well and I have not forgotten about our shared space here.
In the meantime, here is an updated version of an earlier post about a project that might send you down your own creative rabbit trails this spring—enjoy!
For me, creativity is not making something out of nothing. It’s more like making a huge messy pile of things that I’m curious about— and then finding some order in the chaos.
My dilemma: For many years, I had been taking daily walks in the forest up the road, musing and taking photos, which had accumulated into a wild collection of nature study. But I had no container to hold all of this beauty, wonder, and strangeness.
Then I learned about the ancient framework of the microseasons. Could my modern mess somehow fit into a simple haiku-like order? I imagined that huge, random pile of images and notes suddenly snapping into a neat grid of 72 tiny seasons per year.
This has sparked a number of creative projects for me.
First, let me say I love an antique science aesthetic. Something about it seems carefully wrought, timeless and romantic. When I saw this chalkboard Periodic Table of the Elements, it made my strange mind very happy.
So I began to iterate. I was hoping to make a template to define and guide my thinking—a visual and tactile way to arrange my images like Lego. First, I went analog with an old chalkboard and paper cut-outs of my favorite hiking photos.
The latest version that I’m working on is closer to the one in my imagination.
I’m creating 72 separate “forest elements” which are a subset of the layers and lifeforms I see on my hikes—the ones I love the best.
I’m numbering each microseason, naming the specimen, and including the approximate dates.
Finally, I’m digitally stitching the elements together in Canva, one at a time. The slow compilation is a quiet meditation on the tiny seasons. And it’s something I can work on for a just a few minutes at a time—even on a busy day.
In the creative process, we see how our minds have a particular point-of-view, a lens— or more likely, several lenses—that make our work unique. From what I can tell, my own weird combination is scientific, poetic, and a little bit monastic. I think the idea of the microseasons of nature speaks to me in all these ways. I’m excited to keep pushing into the concept and see where it takes me.
Whatever idea you’re working on right now,
I hope you’re in love with it.
I hope it brings you hours of creative enjoyment and satisfaction. And if you don’t know what to make, take a walk out in this microseason—and see what calls to you!
I’ll see you in a new microseason,
—Ann
I've always liked "antique science aesthetic" as well! And antique library aesthetic. Ideally, I'd like to have a house with a dimly lit library, complete with dark wooden shelves and oriental carpets and museum-like display cases with sextants and other brass sciencey stuff. Oh, and a huge antique globe that is also a drinks cart. I actually used to have one of those in my apartment when I lived in Ireland. It belonged to an aunt of my now-ex. She bought it in the US and brought it home with her when she moved back. But it was a copy. She bought it in Pottery Barn :)
Genius . Love it.