“I saw people looking and old people laughing… You move… make spirit… people… It’s good fun. I tell what I am feeling. Everybody’s happy!” The old fellow at the end of the video nailed it. Improv Everywhere moves people. Make people laugh. Makes people happy. Another you’re-making-the-world-a-better-place mission. Thanks!
I’ve just polluted a perfectly wonderful blog post over at Multi-Hyphenate, and I’m feeling a little ashamed.
No, not the blog troll sort of graffiti that I find reprehensible. But the kind of run-on comment that should have been a blog post instead of clogging up someone else’s blog post (which I alsofind reprehensible.) So… aside from a mumbled apology at the end of my comment, I’m reposting my thoughts so their wise editor is free to abbreviate or remove the comment I posted to Annie Q. Syed’s “There is No Muse“.
A “muse to amuse your ego” is an amusing and clever tongue twister that I can’t resist borrowing for a quick blog post… But I’m not sure I’m 100% convinced.
I’m with you here: “At the end of the day… you are simply a storyteller and you have a job to do: tell the damn story. ” Just spent this morning listening to Tom Ashbrook interviewing Eric Bogosian about his novel, “Perforated Heart”. (You can hear the On Point rebroadcast, but note it was originally broadcast May 26, 2009.) He tells the story. In more modes, manners and muddles than most storytellers,
Eric Bogosian (Image via RottenTomatoes.com)
Bogosian tells the damn story. An acquired taste, especially if you’re not male and/or not connected in some way with NYC, but Bogosian is a storyteller without precious, pretentious muse mongering.
Or is he? Perhaps we just don’t meet his muse. Perhaps Bogosian’s muse is personal, intimate, private. Perhaps it is a changing muse, evolving along with his own writing style, ambition, skill. I don’t know. And frankly, I don’t much care because his storytelling stands on its own, muse or no muse.
What’s the point? I think that storytelling need not be divorced from muse. A muse. Many muses. But the story, the finished product, need not reflect the role of the muse in the creative process. A storyteller’s craft is complex, and the journey is often long (as you’ve readily acknowledged) between story seed and finished story. For me, the muse is one part of that journey. She’s part inspiration, as you’ve mentioned above, but she’s also my collaborator. I don’t mean to get too fanciful hear, but recall that storytelling is not a hermetic art. It requires an audience. Else it is mere babbling! The burps and farts of a crazy man. You’ve said, “Sometimes when I write words feel like picking precious beads in sand.” Right! And why? Because you’re not writing for yourself alone. You’re telling a story for an audience and precise, accurate language is the currency of a storyteller if s/he is to find a receptive audience. I’ve slipping into pedantic drivel, sorry…
So inspiration, yes, but my muse is also more of a collaborator. Like music to a dancer. And perhaps also like a dance partner. I’m a crumby (but enthusiastic) dancer, so take this comparison for what little it is worth. I can dream up a clever dance, practice and refine my steps, my rhythm, my gesture, my poise, etc. But it’s only when I attempt this creative process in conjunction with music — real or imagined — that my dance evolves away from the dizzying courtship of a park pigeon into something more compelling, more complete. And better still when I extend my hand to a dance partner — real or imagined — to enter into the dance with me, to mirror, to oppose, to resist and beguile and charm and challenge that something beautiful can be born.
Yes, I’ve overextended the metaphor. Apologies! But there’s an idea in there, an idea that a creator can extend the limits of his or her creativity significantly when amused by a muse. ;-)
That indulgent difference aside, there’s much we agree on. The work of a storyteller is also to know the difference between this creative dance and the hard work of distilling the finished product from the draft. After narcotic creativity transports the storyteller beyond initial inspiration and indeed often beyond the anticipated scope of the story, it’s time to begin the hardest work. The editing, the weeding, the focusing, the revising. The muse does not belong in this process, at least in my own writing. She’s a temptress, a dazzling temptress who’s creative genius forever outstrips my own. And so the time comes when I must bid her farewell, for a while, remove my dance shoes, sit down at my desk and work. Dancing is divine, but I have a job to do!
[Ferdinand the bull]… doesn’t fit the typical mold of other young male bulls: he doesn’t like to fight or butt heads. All he wants to do is enjoy the meadow and smell the flowers… “Ferdinand’ is a perfectly absurd story which will make everybody laugh and chuckle.“ ~ Smell the Ink
Absurd, perhaps, and sublime to boot! My favorite book as a boy; and today, my favorite boy as a book. The Story of Ferdinand. Or as I always remember and reference it, “Ferdinand the bull”. Some childhood habits die hard!
This simple but poignant children’s book written by Munro Leaf and illustrated by Robert Lawson has never lost its sparkle for me. It’s still inside, still beside my bedside, still my favorite gift for chilluns and olduns alike. The story, the pictures, the corks in the trees, the flowers in the ladies’ hair, the dazed look of confusion/euphoria on Ferdinand the bull’s handsome mug, his mother’s look of concern, the bee-stings-bull’s-@$$ action sequence, the long ride home. The Story of Ferdinand is a must own, read, re-read for the child in all of us. And the adult in every child.
[January 24, 2012] I’ve come across the video version of Ferdinand the bull quite by accident. I never knew it existed. Raised without television I overlooked the obvious: most good children’s books were at some point Disnified!
A quirky little video, certainly no more compelling than the story. Perhaps less so? I am intrigued to see Lawson’s illustrations animated, as if — after so many years — Ferdinand the bull had wiggled off the page. However Ferd’s mother, especially her goofy walk and her grating voice, are a little far from the mark.
The rather dated flavor or this Walt Disney short and the almost literal translation of the story to film does provoke my curiosity what a modern digital version of Ferdinand the bull would look like. I imagine that the potential of today’s digital storytelling is much more compelling than Disney’s short film. Perhaps it already exists? Perhaps we should add it to the great “To Do” list in the sky?
Ferdinand the bull tattoo (Credit: TheNinth)
[March 26, 2013] It’s always fun to discover old posts that continue to be read. A lot. Like this goofy glimpse at Ferdinand the bull, a truly “evergreen” story! While it’s a pleasant surprise to be reminded how many folks stumble onto this post, I am even more delighted by the number of people I meet who remember Ferdinand the bull with fondness, who reference his story to help clarify real life situations, and often enough who tell me that I’m a real world Ferdinand the bull. I know that sometimes they’re gently (or not so gently!) mocking me, but the gibe always flatters me. Silly? Perhaps.
But there is something more I’d like to pass along, a more peculiar and wonderful update that I couldn’t possibly allow to languish in the distant reaches of the web: a Ferdinand the bull tattoo! No, I haven’t overcome my phobia of needles to commemorate my favorite flower smelling bull. But the magic of the interwebs have brought this illustrated arm (or leg?) to my joyful attention. Enjoy!
Click on the image for Kris Krug‘s digital story (yesmagazine.org)
Eleven weeks into the oil disaster that is devastating the Gulf Coast, hope can be hard to find. For photographer Kris Krug, capturing the horrifying impact of our dependence on oil is “my chance to take a little bit of my power back.” To those who feel emotionally overwhelmed by the disaster, Krug advises: “Do something. Action is the antidote to that despair you’re feeling.”(yesmagazine.org)
Photographically, psychologically and philosophically engaging, Kris Krug’s digital story about the aftermath of the BP oil spill fiasco offers a glimmer of hope. He acknowledges the weight that he’s felt in the months since BP’s well began pumping millions of gallons of crude oil into the Gulf of Mexico. But he also encourages us to act, to overcome the despair by engaging intelectuallay or artistically even if we can’t participate physically in ameliorating the disaster.
The idea of creativity clusters has been around since the beginning of time. Anything that works this well is worth noting! Usually linked to the high-tech cluster in Silicon Valley, a creativity cluster is simply a collection of people in a high-performance environment that maximizes creative output. Building a cluster using digital technology and storywork is a powerful combination.
Story Circle is the first collection developed to track the digital storytelling movement around the world. Exploring the digital landscape – consumer-generated content, memory grids, micro-documentaries, this book highlights who is doing what and where. Following Joe Lambert‘s original version of digital storytelling as ‘knowing in practice’, Story Circle collects and describes digital projects in social, educational, activist and community contexts. Great resource! (via mythginger.com)
I’ve just ordered Story Circle: Digital Storytelling Around the World
Your story is the price of admission to the campfire discussion that is happening around your products and services every day. Without a Story – you are just an annoying salesman. ~ PushingSocial.com
We tend to get hung up on the “bells and whistles” when we talk about digital storytelling. Substance? Oh, we’ll get to that later. Later? Why bother telling a story at all if you haven’t covered the basics. It doesn’t matter how spiffy the wrapper if the gift is overlooked. Stanford’s posting is a reminder that you must build a good brand story if you want admission at the digital campfire. He offers three tips:
“Let me tell you a story…” It’s almost always a winner. No doubt you’ve tapped the interest of you listener/reader/viewer, especially if the context/relationship promises relevance. But even when it doesn’t, it’s human nature to be curious, to enjoy storytelling, to make time for a short narrative adventure before plunging back into the quotidian.
Stanford is spot on when he observes, “In our zeal to evangelize Social Media – we forgot to tell you about WHAT you should be talking about!” Bingo. The abundance of powerful digital storytelling tools available today is enchanting. And sometimes we become so enchanted with the “how” that we forget the “what”. Summer marks the much anticipated season of dazzling special effects blockbuster movies, and yet audiences often complain that a movie fell on its face because it had no story. Snazzy visuals, sound effects and superstar actors can’t redeem an ill-crafted story. Thanks for bringing the focus back to the basics!
Read the full posting at PushingSocial.com.
1 hour. 100 students. Mission? Teach the students how to make a digital story! Challenging for sure. Possible? Here’s Grimeland Merete’s story:
The other day I was asked to teach students studying to become pre-school teachers at The University College of Oslo how to make a digital story. At first I thought it would be a regular workshop with 15 to 20 students and that we would be able to use 1 to 2 days producing digital stories while I would supervise. These types of workshops I really love! I get to talk to people all the time, and help people tell their stories during the time we spend together in the workshop. And this is what I’ve done every time I’ve been teaching it to others – through workshops, and not lectures… So I was kind of surprised when Grete Jamissen said “I’m sorry, Merete. This is not going to be one of those cozy workshops we usually do. We have nearly 100 students, and you have to show them how it works in an hour. That’s all the time we got”. […]
I could have said that this post would be about how to make a digital story in 1 hour, but that wouldn’t have been entirely true, because Grete had spent quite a few hours preparing the raw material for me. Although I put it together, not entirely into a coherent story, I did spend 1 hour demonstrating how it’s done technically, while Grete probably has spent some 10 hours or so preparing the material. And I think she’s still working on it to get it down to a 10-20 min demonstration!
But doing it in front of 100 people, that was the challenge! So if you want to make a digital story live, you should have all your raw material collected and well rehearsed, especially if you’re recording it in front of an audience.
Your raw material should include:
- The story written down and/or printed – rehearse the recording
- Selected pictures to compliment the story – numbering the might be a good idea so that you easier know what order you want them in
- Recording device or at least mic if you’re recording directly to MovieMaker
- Music (with clearance to use)
Read the full post at Sweet Chili of Mine…
Game changer? It will be interesting to see how this affects the explosion of web video. Google’s Vic Gundotra unveils a new open-source video format called WebM that it’s rolling out in conjunction with Mozilla and Opera.
Photo: Getty Images
What exactly makes the production of Champlain Valley Creamery’s cream cheese distinct from its industrial counterparts? To start with, the organic milk used to make the cheese comes from Journey’s Hope Farm, a neighboring dairy. Using organic cow’s milk from crossbred Jerseys and Holsteins that yield milk with high butterfat produces a tastier milky flavor in the cheese; a slight tang that can also be enjoyed with the creamery’s other cheeses (try Champlain Valley Triple Cream).
Since the production of cream cheese is, in fact, medieval, it’s illogical to assume that it must be synonymous with Philadelphia. Champlain Valley Creamery’s cream cheese is proof that this category of cheese can far surpass industrial.
Although Champlain Valley Creamery is located right across Lake Champlain from where I live, it took a Bostonian to set me onto this promising alternative to Philadelphia… Hat tip to Jeremy Krantz (@JeremyKrantz) for his insightful cream cheese twitter post! Read the full post at slashfood.com
That image above is one of the “picture poems” I included in 40×41: Midlife Crisis Postponed and it combines contour drawings that I made in 1994 during my final year in college with abstractions from photographs that I took in Peru in 2011. I’ve previously posted elements of “Contours & Artifacts” in Choice (June 4, 2012) and Wonder (December […]
