Life of Art: Scot Moore

Wow – interview three already? Now we’re cookin’ with gas! Please welcome Scot Moore to château Voix!

Who are you and where is “here” for you right now? Please include what do you do to keep food in your belly and a roof over your head.

Scot Moore.  For me, the physical “here” is Minneapolis.  The metaphorical “here” is… progressing.  I work a customer service job in the financial industry to pay bills and have benefits.

What is your creative practice and what have you learned from it?

This is serious business, people.

I’m a writer and an actor.  As I’m currently on hiatus from acting, though, I prefer to focus on the writing.  I’ve learned I have a voice and something to say.  I’ve also learned to invest in a decent wrist brace.

Where do you find inspiration?

Most commonly, I find inspiration in the things that piss me off.  I’ve learned that taking those issues head-on results in mediocre material, though, so I’ve also been inspired by people like Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert who are able to see these things through satire.  Moderating the approach to the material (taking your own viewpoint out of the equation) consistently results in a better product.

How do you overcome the creative barriers you encounter?

It depends.  My preferred method is to ruminate on the issue until the solution presents itself.  However, in the instances where it doesn’t or when I’m on a deadline I simply go with the first logical solution and see where it takes me.  Many times, just having a solution out there leads me to a better one.

How do you regenerate when feeling artistically depleted?

I do something else for a while.  I’ll pull out my guitar and practice for a few days or so, which benefits me in multiple ways.  I get better at guitar and my brain is forced back into a learning mode.  I also will take a few days off and just refuse to think about it.

What does success look like to you?

Feedback.  I mean, ideally, success would look like a bestseller and $1M, but for now it’s feedback.  I like when people are interested enough to provide feedback.  When I get consistent feedback that something is coming across as something other than I intended, I’m truly grateful to those who provided it to me.

What do you want people to know about you and your work?

I take the work seriously, but not myself.  I’ll spend all night trying to pound out the right words, but if I can’t take feedback and listen to others, my material can only be so good.  If I take myself too seriously and don’t leave room for improvement then I’ll miss opportunities to make it better.  Also, I’m a Scorpio and like long walks around the lakes.

**

Many thanks to Scot for his answers. His website is http://www.scotmoore.net/ and he’s directing a show for Freshwater Theater!  The Book of Liz opens on September 10.

Are you creative? Curious about what the Voix blog is up to? Would you like to answer a few questions about your Life of Art? Visit this post and leave a comment, you can jump in the sandbox with the rest of us.

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Grappling with bystander responsibility: an essay

Do you remember high school? What about the fights that broke out in the lunch room? Remember how chaotic and stressful the school environment felt after seeing one? Yeah. I wrote about that.

My student Belinda got into a fight last year. It wasn’t a prissy, slappy, name-calling fight, either. It was a reality television-worthy, punch- throwing, eye-bruising fight that didn’t end until Belinda’s opponent had ripped the weave out of her hair and waved it around in front of the student spectators…

Read more of this essay at the Teaching Tolerance website. Teaching Tolerance is a project of the Southern Poverty Law Center. A place to find thought-provoking news, conversation and support for those who care about diversity, equal opportunity and respect for differences in schools. Check them out!

Posted in activism, teaching, Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Life of Art: Sharon Zimmerman

Interview two in the Life of Art series graciously provided by Sharon Zimmerman, jewelry designer.

Who are you and where is “here” for you right now? Please include what
do you do to keep food in your belly and a roof over your head.

I am Sharon Zimmerman, a jewelry designer. Here is San Francisco. What do I do to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly?  I make a ton of jewelry.  Up until 5 months ago, I was employed, but unfulfilled.  I hit a point where it was a scarier life choice to stay where I was at than it was to take a giant leap into the unknown.  And so I leapt, and it has been OK…so far.

What is your creative practice and what have you learned from it?

silver leafy ear-dangle-y goodness!

My creative practice is primarily in metalsmithing – i.e. making jewelry out of sterling silver, 14 karat and 18 karat gold. Though if you had asked me this question over the years, you would receive a different answer.  At age 8, I would have said acting, at age 16, I would have said writing, at age 21, I would have said music, at age 27, I would have said food.  More than any practice, metalsmithing has taught me patience and precision, though the design process encourages a certain looseness and messiness. I have also learned not to say no to an idea, though to some ideas I have had to say “not now”.

Where do you find inspiration?

Everywhere! Though I am most drawn to architecture and architectural elements; any beautifully designed structure can make me cry.  I also love schematic drawings and working out geometric problems (using Pi to find circumference of a circle, figuring out the surface area of an isoceles triangle, forming a trilateral pyramid from a flat sheet of silver).  Funny for the girl who got a D in high school Geometry, but I do find it interesting that I was drawn to an artistic medium in which I use geometry on a daily basis. (ed. Woah. Math and Art? AWESOME.)

How do you overcome the creative barriers you encounter?

I don’t view barriers as a mysterious force holding me back, but rather as a problem that is simply in need of a solution. If I come up against a design problem, I just try new things over and over until I find the solution that works and is artistically satisfying. One of the most challenging aspects is that my art will be worn, so there are some practical limitations of what I can do.  Clasps have to be both easy to use and secure, rough parts can catch on clothing, everyone’s wrists are different sizes, etc, but I also want the design to be thorough, creative, pleasing and lovely.  Though the process can at times be frustrating, I find the end results so rewarding that I find that it is worth it to push on through. I don’t know that I use a single method, though I will sketch a piece over and over until I like the results or I’ll try making it one way, but I am always willing to take it apart if I don’t like it.  I also try not to say no to any idea that I might have.  Ideas that have seemed a little out there to me have been some of my more popular pieces.

How do you regenerate when feeling artistically depleted?

Sleep, yoga, tea, socializing, though not necessarily in that order.  Also, changing up my routine can be a good way to shake out all of the cobwebs.  This week for instance, I got up at 5:30am to go out to Fort Funston to walk on the beach with a good friend and her Pit Bull/Marshmallow mix.  I came home totally rejuvenated and re-did my logo and banner on Etsy and I also worked on my display for an upcoming art fair.

What does success look like to you?

I’ll let you know when I find it.  I think that it probably involves having enough money to travel at whim, but not necessarily enough to buy property in San Francisco.

What do you want people to know about you and your work? 

I think that this is where I pull out the soapbox from underneath my seat, place it atop my high horse and stand gingerly upon it: (ed. Yay! I love me some soapboxin.)

The price is the price for a reason; I didn’t arrive at my prices arbitrarily. While I am happy to work out a payment schedule with you, please don’t assume that I can easily give you a discount.   We as consumers have demanded, and successfully gotten, lower prices on all kinds of products over the years-food is cheaper, lumber is cheaper, textiles are cheaper, etc. But this has all come at an incredibly awful human cost.  Yes, you got a great deal on that $12 t-shirt, but the Cambodian woman who assembled it for you made less that day than what you would spent on a cup of coffee.  Your gold ring from India? Cheaper than American jewelry, but the guy who made it works without eye protection or ventilation to protect him from the metal dust and chemicals associated with jewelry-making. Also, the drive for cheaper goods has meant the long-term loss of jobs in our own country. I am not saying that you always have to make the responsible choice when you buy, but I am asking you to think more deeply about it.  If you really love something that I have made, then I want you to have it.  But I also have rent to pay and food to eat.  You can pay me in installments.  I don’t mind.  But if price is your only factor in making your purchase decisions, then you might as well be buying cheap plastic jewelry from the mall.  Go do that, come back to me in ten years and tell me if you still love it and wear it everyday.

*Leaps from high horse and neatly tucks soapbox away*

THE END

**

Thanks a million for your answers, Sharon, and for shining some light on bigger issues that first world consumers don’t often consider.

If you’d like to see more of Sharon’s work, she’d love it if you checked out her Etsy site and gave her a LIKE on Facebook.

Are you creative? Curious about what the Voix blog is up to? Would you like to answer a few questions about your Life of Art? Visit this post and leave a comment, I’ll send you some questions.

Posted in creative life, Life of Art Interview | Tagged | 10 Comments

Life of Art: Brian Beatty

And here we go! My first Life of Art interview is with writer, comedian, and storyteller Brian Beatty. Enjoy!

Who are you and where is “here” for you right now? Please include what do you do to keep food in your belly and a roof over your head.

As you can see, the beard really is impressive.

My business card says, “Writer. Comedian. Dude with a beard.” Which is as accurate a description as any I’ve been able to come up with. I dabble in Moth-ish storytelling, too. Banjo and guitar noodling have figured into my recent gigs as well.

Maybe I need new business cards.

To feed my literary addiction and buy my hound’s kibble, I write print and digital copy for clients of all shapes and sizes. Which isn’t like Mad Men. Not the way I do it, anyway.

What is your creative practice and what have you learned from it?

I write every day. I get up on stage as often as I can fool people into inviting me up on stage. This summer that’s meant “acting” in Ferrari McSpeedy’s “Once Upon a Time in the Suburbs” at the 2011 Minnesota Fringe. Reviews confirmed my suspicion going into the show that I’m not anybody’s idea of an actor.

Where do you find inspiration?

I read a lot. I listen to and play a lot of music. There is a handful of artists (writers, comedians, visual artists, musicians) I return to as barometers of the honesty and artfulness of my own work.

How do you overcome the creative barriers you encounter?

I heave my shoulder into the boulder and keep pushing whichever direction looks like the top of the hill.

How do you regenerate when feeling artistically depleted?

I hang out with my hound. I go for hikes. I pick up a banjo or a guitar. Last spring, I took a pottery class.

What does success look like to you?

Having a story or poem or stand-up bit turn out as close to my intent as possible — without sacrificing my integrity to appease an audience — is my idea of success.

What do you want people to know about you and your work?

I’m not for everybody. It’s possible I’m not for you. But even if that’s the case, I hope you’ll see that what I’m sharing with you is an honest effort to entertain. Honesty is as important to me as artistry. I also like as little artifice as possible between the audience and me. And I’m not the least bit interested in shock value — believe it or not.

**

If you want to see more of Brian’s work, check out his blog: Brian Beatty.

And here are some links to his stories: Private Properties and Can’t Get There From Here

and some poetry: Flap (Position) and Astronomy for Dummies

I hope you enjoy Brian’s work. He’s great, articulate, bristly, humorous, tenderhearted, and honest beyond belief.

Are you creative? Curious about what the Voix blog is up to? Would you like to answer a few questions about your Life of Art? Visit this post and leave a comment, I’ll send you some questions.

Posted in creative life, Life of Art Interview | Tagged | 3 Comments

Life of Art: an interview series

You know what’s annoying? Nobody gets a gold star for living a normal, sane, even-keel middle class life. No matter how much I may resist paying bills on time, remember to wash body and clothes, stay fed and sheltered and somewhat fit – it’s expected that I figure this stuff out. It’s the responsible thing to do – a standard to maintain if I don’t want all my friends and family to think I’m trashy, crazy, or just plain irresponsible.

And the mechanics of daily life (which includes holding down the job that I’ve got to have to pay for the shelter, food, maintenance, and entertainment) take up lots of time. Most of every day, I’d say.

And then there’s this creative impulse living inside me. It wants me to stay busy, write books, make collages, travel, photograph, learn to draw, write movies, do improv, and audition for plays. It wants me to tell stories at microphones, create new video and podcast content for my students to practice their language skills, learn to scuba dive and take pictures of coral reefs, and make friends with every single creative person who crosses my path. It’s busy in my head, friends. Very busy. And I try so many things that I’m not particularly good at. Then I get frustrated and give up.

Sometimes my creative impulse makes me tired, other times I just dive head first into a new project without considering the impact said project will have on the state of my yard, kitchen counter, and food supply.

So I’ve become very curious about how other artists in various stages of their careers are managing their life of art and what Ira Glass calls getting past the gap between being a beginner and doing art that matches your taste. SO – over the next indeterminate while, I’m going to interview* other writers, actors, visual artists, musicians, etc. and ask them how they juggle it all.

I hope you’ll join me. This should be fun!

*If you’re interested in being interviewed, shoot me an email or post a comment here.

Posted in creative life, Life of Art Interview | Tagged | 8 Comments

Father and daughter time

Cell phone tweets from Cooperstown, NY. Read from the bottom for chronological order.

My dad isn’t so much a baseball fan as he’s a 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers fan. Today, whilst driving back through upstate New York on the way back to Chicago from Montreal, QC, Canada.

I learned more about Jackie Robinson and the integration of Major League Baseball and Brooklyn, NY in the 1950s and his grandpa’s farm on Long Island and all his cousins than I ever thought I’d know. My dad is a great storyteller. I haven’t seen as animated as he was today in a very long time.

Plus: I got a Jackie Robinson Brooklyn Dodgers jersey. I’m sure I’ll be wearing it around Mpls over the next few weeks.

Posted in family, storytelling | 3 Comments

Teaching as performance: an essay elsewhere

When I set out to write, produce and perform my original one woman show about the classroom experiences of a Minneapolis French teacher, Pardon My French, for the Minnesota Fringe Festival last summer, I had three goals that would help me know I’d been successful:

  1. Have fun
  2. Have supportive friends in the audience
  3. Avoid puking on my shoes in front of everyone

. . .

Find out what teaching and performance have in common over at the Minnesota Playlist

Posted in creative life, Performance, teaching | 1 Comment

Hey summertime! C’mere and gimme a kiss!

There will be cloud gazing this summer.

Oh friends! My wonderful blessed summer vacation that I’ve been dreaming about for months is finally here. As the final bell of the 2010-11 school year rang out at 3:00 p.m. yesterday, I was on the balcony making sure the kids didn’t do their traditional “dump all of the papers from their backpacks onto the commons floor below” thing. The security roundup worked in my area, but I think that could be because I was standing near our school liaison officer. That blue shirt and shiny star badge are pretty impressive – especially since he’s one of the nicest guys ever. The other faculty and myself shepherded the kids down the stairs and out the door before extensive vandalism seemed like a good idea, and I went back to my room to face the stack of finals I have yet to finish grading.

All of the negative press teachers got during the Union crisis in WI must have left everyone thinking that “all summer off” must mean that we teachers are all sporting swimsuits and drinking frothy daiquiris at the beach from the minute we hand in our keys. I know none of MY fair readers would think that I’m a frothy daiquiri drinker and the little lake beaches here are filled with the kids I just sent off into the world, so I’ll bet you’re curious about what we do with our 10 weeks of unstructured time. Wanna know what teachers do during the summer? We do more work. For free. Or in some cases, for a small fee we’ve paid for the privilege of being trained.

Week of June 13th – 4 days of teacher training.
Week of June 20th – 4 days of summer school substitute teaching.
Week of July 18th – 2 more days of teacher training
Week of August 1st – 3 more days of teacher training
and back to work on August 19th. Ploof!

Boy does summer go fast when you look at it that way. I do have a few weeks of intense writing time, a road trip to Toronto and Montreal with my dad, my 20 year HS reunion, and a handful of visits with friends planned, so I’m not complaining. I’m more baffled at myself for setting it up that way – but I do like to keep busy. After spending all day every day with at least 130 people, summer can feel very isolating and lonely — well, after I’ve slept for a week and caught up on my rest, which should happen the week of June 27th – except that’s the week that my best friend, my surrogate husband, and my goddaughter are moving out of state. I’ve scheduled that week for a long round of alternating denial and weeping. Gnashing of teeth and rending of garments may also make an appearance, as I’m the dramatic sort.

So anyway. I just wanna give sloppy smooches to summer right now. I have to stop writing this post so I can get to school before the staff breakfast and finish my grades. My goal is to finish grading and packing up by 12:30 – all the better to enjoy my afternoon lunch date and workout session before I go to a retirement party. w00t!

Posted in foolishness, teaching, Writing | 2 Comments

I’m melting!

I love it when they love me back.

Oh friends. The school year is almost over, and I got the sweetest note ever from one of my graduating seniors.

I swear that I didn’t pay her to write this.

I’ve written a guest post for Teaching Tolerance, as I made it past the first vetting process for new teacher bloggers, but I don’t have a guarantee that they’ll use what I sent them. It was a story about a fight and bystander/spectator violence. Daily life in the classroom is tough, and the things I have to say about teaching and equity education feel mostly like unanswerable questions. We’ll see if they use what I wrote. I hope they like it.

It isn’t hard to prepare good lessons and stay reasonably organized while presenting them. Developing curriculum and achieving benchmarks? Of course, piece of cake. But being a real live, breathing, sweating, authentic human being in front of 150+ people every day? Man, that is hard work. It’s hard to know whether or not I’ve been successful most of the time. Then I get thank you notes from students about to graduate and I dissolve faster than a plate full of macaroons at a tropical tea party.

Posted in foolishness, teaching | 11 Comments

Problems, solutions, etcetera . . .

Fag. Queer. Homo. Whore. Bitch. Slut. Retard.

Today at school, we had a presentation and Q/A from Jamie Nabozny, subject of the film Bullied: A Student, a School and a Case that Made History. In this 40 minute documentary, produced by the Southern Poverty Law Center (and Teaching Tolerance Magazine, who should totally hire me to be one of their bloggers), we learn the story of the constant homophobic harassment, physical assault, and torment that Jamie endured through his middle school and high school years in Ashland, Wisconsin. We showed this movie to (almost) all of the students at our school last week, and held peer-led discussion sessions afterward, to give them a chance to process and react. I didn’t get to facilitate one of those groups, due to some attendance issues, but apparently they went really well. And they prepared students for Jamie’s appearance at South High today.

Bullied is a great movie, and Jamie is an even better speaker. We have a large capacity auditorium – about 600 seats or so. We have to divide the school into three groups to get everyone through a presentation in a day, and I brought my students down for the third talk. Usually that means a sluggish presenter and kids who are too hungry to pay attention to anything, but that didn’t happen. He started off asking kids to raise their hands if they’d heard anyone called any of the following words in the last week: Fag. Queer. Homo. Whore. Bitch. Slut. Dumbass. Retard. Almost every hand went up for every word. And then, he asked how many students thought that everyone at our school showed up feeling safe every day. Five hands went up out of 600.

Woah. I’d never have guessed it was that bad. Given, I have a zero-tolerance policy for hate in my classroom, so the kids know enough to keep my classroom harassment-free. I don’t hear those words coming from them, but the hallways and lunchroom and bus are out of my range. I knew these kids – my kids – weren’t lying, and as Jamie told a bit of his story (for review, if anyone missed it) and went through how important it is to be aware of how much words can harm someone, there was near total silence in our school auditorium.

Silence. In a room full of 600+ hungry teenagers who would rather be wolfing down bags of flaming hot crunchy treats and plastic containers of apple juice, there was no fidgeting or side conversation or grabassery. It was magnificent. And incredibly sad – because I understood at that moment that my students may sometimes feel safe in my classroom where my big voice sticks up for everyone, but the kind of harassment and bullying that I may have believed didn’t exist there is more than occasional. It’s common.

I’ve had a handful of conversations with my friend Butch about bullying and how the worst part of being a victim in hostile situations is not being attacked by an aggressor. The worst part is knowing that there are spectators on the sidelines not doing anything to help you or stop the abuse. I spent the better part of my day post-auditorium talking with students about how important it is to say something when words are getting thrown at someone – because often, that prevents the fists. I’d like to say that the “if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem” speech flew out of my mouth like a glittery ribbon of wisdom and joy. I’d like to say that all of my students heard me and we’re going to have a kumbaya potluck of hummus and chamomile tea out in the quad later this month – as soon as the snow stops. But mostly, I left the day feeling uncomfortable and sad that I can’t protect them from this unacceptable reality, and that I want to do a better job showing them that speaking up is the courageous thing to do.

So thank you, Jamie Nabozny and thank you, Teaching Tolerance for a brain and heart rattling day and for reminding me that just because I can’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there. And thank you for making me just uncomfortable enough to do something different in my classes tomorrow.

Posted in activism, teaching, Writing | 6 Comments