Beginnings: Part 1 (Maia)

A two-part series on how we catch the scent of (and start) new creative projects.

Hi friends,

We’re thrilled your here! Gotta tell you, we’re having so much fun. We’ve been spending Wednesdays together, working on our posts for you. We’re already learning so much about voice, simply by figuring out how to merge ours into these missives.

Cruising forward, these notes will appear in your inbox on Thursdays. Over time, most of what we publish will become part of a paid subscription. But, for the next five weeks, everyone will get everything so you get a feel for the road.

This week (and next), we gave ourselves the assignment of writing about how we begin new creative projects. First up is Maia. Zoom off with her and count on Steph pulling up next week. Enjoy! And add your own tips and tricks for starting new projects to the comments below.

P.S. We’ve popped some links below— a sprinkling of what Maia relies on to get across the starting line.

Beginnings—true beginnings— are never tidy.

I don’t light a candle, chant Om three times, and suddenly have the next best-seller itching my fingertips.

No.

Beginnings are messy. They’re piles of sticky notes and half-written thoughts. They’re walks in the woods and long talks with friends. They’re days tracking obscure histories through countless internet searches, ordering out-of-print books, getting frustrated and singing Closer to Fine off-key in the car, coming home and drinking absurd amounts of tea.

And then . . . the slight scent of sulfur, an idea that feels different. Bright, somehow. A spark, a mad dash to get the bones down before it disappears (on whatever scrap of paper is handy: a napkin, a receipt. Pen?? Do you have a pen??). Quick, quick. Open the laptop, click into Word, put flesh on the bones while the thought feels alive and tangible. The more the better. Ideas fade. Sticky notes become meaningless and eventually get recycled. What’s this thing about? What does it want to be?

If it implants, if the thought takes root, only then do the rituals begin: The office cleaning and dusting. The sweeping up of books, journals, and decks, placing them back on their shelves (over time, they’ll get scattered around the room again). The energy clearing with saged smoke, spritz, or the percussive chick, chick of a rattle. All to make space for this new thing, to let it know it’s welcome, there’s room for it.

Only then are there little offerings— crystals and feathers and candles— arranged altar-like on the left side of my very long desk. Something happens to my psyche during this process, it cracks open as the tendrils of creation root in. Sometimes, the terrain must change: rugs and art come and go, whatever this little seed needs to survive and thrive. Thriving feels different every time: this idea wants orchids, white, please. That idea, rugs from the Gabbeh region of Iran. (Yes, both these things really have happened.) I don’t question. It seems absurd, sometimes. A microscope? You want a microscope? (Yes, that has happened, too. A friend’s daughter now uses it to observe lichen and moss collected from rocks around their house.)

Beginnings are a creative dance. They’re learning a new rhythm and flow. The muse makes her demands, and I honor them unconditionally because each demand teaches me about what I’m creating, it hints about what the writing wants to become.

New Beginnings Support Staff:

The Indigo Girls
I’ve been listening to this duo since college. Junior year, mornings started with my roommate and I jumping on our beds and singing Closer to Fine. It’s still my go-to when my heads overloaded.

White Sage
Heads up: this plant is endangered in the wild. That’s why I buy smudge bundles organic and cultivated here or spritz here. This plant speaks to me (like, literally, I hear it in my mind). If you have a plant that speaks to you of calming and cleansing and releasing what isn’t needed, than use that one.

A Rattle

Honestly? I just put beans in a mason jar.

A Time Keeping Candle

I’ve never actually bought one of these… but I think about it for every project!

A New Journal

I buy actually one of these for every project…. and I never use them. Everybody works differently, right? Katherine May wrote a great piece on using a journal and I aspire to be as organized as she is!