I have 25 minutes to write today. 25 min between the things to write to you. The Creators Dispatch evolved from my Wednesdays I had of from my office job. Wednesday mornings were long and luxorious and I started work when I wanted. A perfect time to write. No routine, just ritual and showing up to my practise. But over the last four years of writing weekly my life has changed – we all have changed. We would change over time anyway, careers and locations and context. But we change in war, we change in another once in a life time event we have faced over the last decade. I often wonder if writing on Wednesdays is the way to show up to this space is there a better more optimal time to write. When is the channel most open? When are spirit and I in sync?
But there isn’t one.
Art doesn’t get made in some big grand moment.
Everything gets made between the cracks. Between missed busses and shifts we’re late for. Between pasta boiling over and commercials on t.v.
Its quiet conversations at the back of bars, the flood of dopamine into the frontal cortex mid run, the notes apps flurry at the bus stop, or the moments we observe the world like the meta verse it is. The changing of minds happens over text, the inspiration I find in afternoons pouring over clay pots and curious conversations. Not the singular truth our phones flatten it out to be. A black and white. A good person or bad person.
No one sweeping moments to learn it all. No sanctuary to retreat to to get it right. There is no cabin in the woods I can escape to, to write the next great Canadian novel, and truthfully, if you dropped me there I wouldn’t have any clue what to do.
It’s like running a marathon without ever trying on your running shoes.
Its the seed growing between the cracks that grows into the tree. Its roots reaching underneath pavement slabs, stretching out to its mycorrhizal neighbour to share its learning with. Its between the cracks we grow, we create, we evolve.
Everyone wants to be radical until we are faced with actually being radical. When we are met with the moment of uncomfortable. Of hot and sweaty and avoidance.
But creation, change, happens in 25 minutes, or 10, or 5. Not urgency or perfectionism. Not all or nothing. Or black or white. Not the tenants of white supremacy we all run from but enact upon ourselves and others the moment we are met with the demon of sweaty palms and hot faces. Because I know there is much more suffering in the world, in ourselves, if we don’t let the change pour from is, even if its a drop. A little effort, a fucking around, a mistake, a trying, just to move the needle forward. One. Minute. At. A. Time.
A practise for you to
🧌 get over perfectionism
🍄 just get started already
🧵 move the needle forward
🌱 to be uncomfortable
How to make something (anything)
Set a timer for 10 min. No more. No less.
Pick up the pen/brush/typewriter/guitar/etc
Tell all voices of the binary/gemlins/parents/teachers they are wrong and not welcome for the next 10 min.
Go go go go go. Make make make. Maybe you just stare at the wall, maybe you keep the pen going. Maybe you make a small step toward literally anything. HOW FUCKING INCREDIBLE ✨
Print this out and sign it “the permission slip phoebe gave me” and pass it out to anyone that applies their judgments to your art. 🎟
Thanks for reading the Creators Dispatch. A weekly essay about the creative journey! Here I write about being an artist, human, angry woman on the internet and living in the dumpster fire of a world that says not to make your art. If what I say here inspires you (or pisses you off 🥰) share my work with the group chat, or your best friends neighbour. Word of mouth is the most special and radical way of sharing – plus it helps put the Zuck 🏄♂️ out of business 👼
FINDINGS 🗺️
Im gearing up with NaNoWrioMo (anyone else!?) and in love with this new site 750words.com
Truly one of my bestest pals and favouritest artists Stylo is in need of community care – she is living through one of the worst housing issues I could imagine right now and is in need of support to be able to stay a float
The present an correct blog is one of my fav place for inspiration on the internet but this weeks are delish 🤌
Nervous system feeling insane? That makes sense. I liked this post 👇
One of my fav writers (and IG dancers)
has a NaNoWriMo writing retreat coming up!Did you know I have a free.99 workshop called “Creative Loves Languages”? Everything is awful BUT WE NEED YOUR ART. The dream life we vision is closer than we think. Creativity is the antidote to apathy. In this mini workshop we dive into HOW we can stay closer to our inherent creativity (even if it feels far away) so that we can craft a better world full of our big beautiful dreams. Check it out, it may just help you pick up that pen ✒️
I love you all, maybe blessings for the 3 minutes (the space between the cracks) you took to read this 💖
Phoebe 💕
*typos are left to reflect the fury passion and 3D humaness of being a passionate freak in the world – and you know not a robot *beep boop* I am just a human girlie living on earth with a mortal brain 🤸♀️
Thirsty for more? I deeply believe in paying artists for their work and the work art/content we consume (think modern day patron!). To be cohesive with my values I allow readers to pay for the work I create here. If you love my writing, get value and resource from it consider becoming a paid subscriber! Paid subscribers get access to more of my writing and *new* monthly community events starting in Nov 💃🏻!
ahhh everything yes yes yes!!!
and thanks for the mentioning!😊🧚♀️