Inhale, read

Exhale, comics

Does anyone else struggle with the challenge of finding just the right balance between reading (learning, consuming, watching, absorbing, travel, conversation, generally being a sponge) and drawing (writing, quilting, composing, collaging, baking, creating)?

I find it hard to put a good book down (recent case in point, Cherries in Winter: My Family’s Recipe for Hope in Hard Times, by

Suzan Colón

who, btw, writes here on Substack and illustrates her work with comics). At the same time, as I am reading, some part of my brain is thinking about how to respond to the book (piece of art, stageplay, fabulous busker in the subway) by writing something, drawing, or dashing into the kitchen to make something yummy (Colón’s book is full of family recipes).

It’s an ongoing struggle. When I’m making stuff (in whatever form the creative gush might glob out) I’m longing to get back to whatever great book I’m reading or thinking I should finish that movie on Netflix (it can take me weeks to finish a single movie and, yes, if you are wondering, I generally have a stack of books I’m reading simultaneously).

Here are some of the books within easy reach of my keyboard. If I got up from my desk and started collecting the most current titles scattered about, there would be no white space on the page and chances are this post would never be finished as I would be curled up somewhere, reading.

Sometimes, like right now as I’m writing and listening to music, I can sort of multitask. But most of the time, the brain gates are set for either inflow or outflow and not both at the same time.

Similarly, when I’m absorbed in a good book or lost in a museum, I oscillate between wanting to spend hours in one spot (rereading a line or two, or lingering in front of a particular piece of art) and drinking in all that great stimulation in wild gulps, racing from gallery to gallery or flipping through pages so fast I can hardly absorb what I’m reading.

One trick I use to fuse input and output is to take a moment with a favourite quote, mull it over, and write it down.

In the glorious, busy, overstimulating world out there, pulling out a sketchbook and doing a drawing is about the only way I know to really slow down and stay in a moment long enough to really take note of where I am.

This gatehouse beside the river during our canal boat trip in the Alsace-Lorraine region of Germany/France/Luxembourg last year may not be technically correct, but it transports me back to that place and time in a way that a quick photo snapped on my phone does not.

Do I have a preference? In or out? Absorb or create?

Like breath, of course, we need both in equal measure. Without life experiences (good or bad), there isn’t much to write about (or sketch, or capture in film or mount on the stage). Without relevant life context, as an audience member/observer/reader our experience of art pales when compared to an encounter with a piece of art/writing/music that connects directly to some personal life event, particularly when emotions are involved.

As someone who processes the world by creating stuff, anything worth seeing/doing/feeling doesn’t seem complete before I’ve had a chance to transform it into something else - the weird creative alchemy that comes from our attempts to understand/capture and share ourselves by connecting through art.

Excavations of the layers found in my physical environment would provide a pretty good reflection of the backing-and-forthing that’s ongoing as I make my way through a typical day.

I am curious, though, whether you are more an absorber/consumer or a producer/creator - or whether you are a finely balanced blend of both.

Do tell. We can chat about it here in the comments, over in the chat, or in Notes, the latest way to keep the conversation going here in Substack-land.