Creative Collaboration Part 2

Some of the creative collaborators I admire most are songwriters and musicians. When I think of the dedication and talent it takes to learn to play one instrument, I am amazed at people who can play several and then play them altogether in a band. Add to this the ability to write music and lyrics, the idea is practically overwhelming. And yet, music and song abound in our world, and have for ages. One of the reasons this is so, I'm convinced, is that it's fun to write songs and make music. Otherwise, why would there be so much of it? The earth and her creatures crave music. That's what I think, and we follow our natural inclination to create when we participate along with the birds, the trees, and the whales.

Two of my favorite musicians live right here in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Although they have traveled all over the world, and are quite famous among folk musicians, they love their hometown and never slack in their commitment to make it a better place to live. They have a CD and a DVD dedicated to the people, their ways and music, of the Ozark Mountains. I'm talking about the duo known as Still on the Hill. Here, we know them as Kelly and Donna; Kelly Mulholland and Donna Stjerna. (Photos by Jane Voorhees, with cool iphone filters, March 2011.)

I feel privileged to know Kelly and Donna and to call them friends. I participate in the peace open mic they host once a month whenever I can. I'll go to see them play anywhere. They honored Leigh and me by playing at our 10th anniversary party and by writing a song for the two of us which they played on the 'courting dulcimer' at their Valentine's Day concert. (Super fine time was had by all!)

Now, perhaps the greatest tribute of all has been paid to me and my poetry by the two of them. Donna, who is one of the most prolific songwriters I've ever known, loved my book "A Little Lazarus" and shared it with many amazing people. Then she took one of the poems and part of another and combined them into one incredible song. Believe me, it's a whole different creation than the "chicken rap." They invited Jane and me over to see their Ozark Ball Museum, perhaps the finest collection of round objects in the world, and then played my song for me. It was so beautiful I cried. They gave me their permission to put it on my blog post to show you yet another way creative collaboration works. The poem itself is below, then listen to what happens when Donna arranges it and they put their incredible musical talents together to make it sing.

Here is the poem:

Ode to a Day

by Mendy Knott

Day, you awakened me with whispers
early, like a lover who has lain awake for hours
waiting, excited and impatient
for what you thought was long enough
then with a breeze that kissed my eyes awake
began sweet murmurings:
“Hey girl, get up.
Looky here what I have for you.
It’s not Dec. 25th, but it might as well be Christmas.
It’s not your birthday, but I have presents.
Roll on over into me and let me be your greatest gift.”

Then Day, you dripped butterscotch
all down my windowsill; it pooled
yellow on the floor so I was sure to step in it.
A broken blue horizon like a jack ‘o’ lantern’s teeth
grinned in at me while I let you take me unobjecting
let you get inside me deep
let you make me come with you
wherever you would lead.
“Day,” I said, “Take it away..”
And you did.

You, Day, all day, are my lover, mother, my best friend.
You know no limitations.
You shapeshift into my every want and need,
toast me with jam,
celebrate my awkwardness,
remind me of grace,
run your warmth all up and down the length of me
purring like a cat.
You kiss me repeatedly–
sun on back
rain on face
snow on eyelashes, a butterfly kiss.
You throw an arm around my shoulder, Day,
protect me like a shade tree.
I lean against the trunk of you when I’m afraid.
You say, “Listen I’m gonna be with you
all day today. Trust me,
you can have it all your way.”

We act like puppies, yearlings, 5-year-olds.
We roll on the ground with my dog,
weep with a friend on the phone,
sing to everything: a tree, my car, a plate I’m washing.
It’s ridiculous I know, so
I blame it all on you.
You made me love you
even though it was not hard;
made me love your cutting chill
evening shadows
goose and whip-poor-will.
I loved you, glorious tricky Day,
even though you threw those curve balls
straight at me,
hollering, “Catch this!” way too late,
then laughed ‘til the tears ran down your face.

When we lay down at last,
I felt your gentle weight press into me.
You were still chuckling at my antics
forcing me to say, “Hush you crazy Day.
Be quiet now. I need sleep.”
You embrace me,
wrap me up in cozy memories,
then rock me as you make up fantasies
about your twin–
Tomorrow.

And the mp3 of the song, adapted by Donna Stjerna, and played by Still on the Hill (Donna and Kelly) is here. Click to listen or download!

—Mendy Knott is a writer, poet and author of the poetry collection A Little Lazarus (Half Acre Press, 2010). To order your copy of A Little Lazarus directly from the author, please click here. Or, if cookbooks are more your style, get a copy of Mendy's family cookbook Across the Arklatex at www.twopoets.us.

Creative Collaboration Part 1

My friend Jane returned home yesterday after a week-long visit, which is the main reason I'm late with my post this week. Jane is a visual artist: a watercolorist, sketch artist, photographer and bookmaker from Asheville, NC, and one of the best playmates I've ever had. Every creative person needs a playmate like Jane. In truth, every person needs a friend like Jane, and I wish they had one, too. The world would be a better place for it. But the main reason I'm singling out Jane is because the nature of our friendship, its essence in many ways, flows from our mutual joy in the creative experience and what inspires it – beauty.

While Jane was here, our days were spent following and enjoying our creative natures. The English have a saying, "If it moves, you can bet on it." Jane and I believe, "If it exists, you can capture it on paper--somehow." I am writing this post, not simply to sing the praises of my good friend, Jane, but to paint you a picture that inspires and encourages you to play creatively with the friends you have. And if you don't have any friends who seem interested in creative play, I want to encourage you to go out and get you some. (Chicken photo by Jane on her new iphone. Her watercolors—of mountains, sheep & more—can be seen at www.janevoorheesart.com)

I will try to accomplish this feat in a series of posts that run from the laugh-out-loud happiness inspired by being spontaneously goofy with your artistic natures to the beauty of getting down to business with artistic collaboration. Although artistic collaboration may be a rare bird in a world where people seem intent on flying solo, the joy of mutual inspiration cannot be replicated alone.

I call it playtime. We do it when we're kids in kindergarten and preschool but forget about it as we get older and "want to do our own thing." But ask any band member on what their success depends, and they will tell you at least one aspect is the happy collaboration of the group. A director of film and plays might answer the same way. They might also launch into a diatribe about how hard it can be to accomplish this.

So let's begin with just one other person, a dear friend perhaps, and learn to play together. Perhaps your creative gifts even bend in different directions. Don't be discouraged by this. Be excited. These differences can open all kinds of doors and invite brand new opportunities for collaboration. For a long time I titled Jane's beautiful landscapes. She uses one of my poems at the beginning of each new year's calendar. Imagine Elton John tickling the ivories as Bernie Taupin scribbles nearby, while they unknowingly create some of the most memorable songs of an entire age. As in any creative endeavor, you must be willing to play, to create bad art, to be imperfect in order to allow yourself the freedom you need to collaborate at all. It doesn't have to be great, it just has to be fun.

In the short video below, you will see how my backyard chickens inspired both Jane and me to have some fun creatively. We sat among the chickens (who loved the company) and as Jane sketched, I wrote. Then we made this silly video on her new IPhone. Most likely you will not have visions of Elton and Bernie, or even Eminem. But then, who would have expected Elton to give Eminem a hand up when he needed it most? Mentoring is just another form of creative collaboration.

If you are horrified by the "Chicken Rap" and say, well this isn't "art," stay with me for the next couple of posts as we go deeper into collaborative creativity and see and hear what happens on several levels. The one theme that runs through all these posts, no matter how the collaboration was completed, was the pleasure we took in sharing this process we call art. Observe how much of that process involves play, and how play brings us joy. Finally, let me encourage you to go out and find someone to play with today!

Click here to watch The Chicken Rap Video (recorded on Jane's new iphone)