At the Vermont Studio Center, there are writers and artists. Artists are categorized as either painters of sculptors. When I meet an artist that prefers not to be defined, I assume they are a sculptor. This is what I have discovered from my short time here — people who “make stuff” and “put things together.” I love the creative ambiguity of it, the mystery of composition. They are artists who allow themselves to get swept away in their creative currents, wherever that may lead. In a way, I can relate. I used to play around in all genres and I still do. I love to write poetry and non-fiction, but with time, I came to realize that focus is my greatest tool. I appreciate the artists who adamantly define themselves. As a writer, words suit me. I’m happy to put a title on something. I write fiction. It is my focus, a concrete name given to a concrete purpose. For me, focus is necessary when you have something at stake.
Some can go with the creative flow and wistfully indulge in play, some can clearly understand their own focus and art without feeling the need to put it into words and then there are the rest of us — writers, painters and sculptors.