Orthodox Writers, Readers, and Artists: Claire Brandenburg, “What is in the Kitchen?”

Creating interesting characters is very important to a story. The character has to be someone that you, as a writer, understand on an interior level. You know what he will do and what he won’t do. That character has to be someone that the reader also wants to follow and to spend some time with, and is in many ways the key to keeping people turning the page.

So how do we go about that?

I open my double door pantry and start going through the shelves… hmmm, a can of this, a can of that…how about some of these spices on the door?

What on earth am I talking about?  Well, let me tell you a little more.

I spend a lot of time observing people, even speaking in their accent if they speak unusually to my ears, (of course not to their face).  I guess in a way I act out who I perceive that they are.  Of course this representation is I myself living in a different circumstance, in perhaps a different culture, and taking on mannerisms of that life.

I ask God to show this to me as well.  I ask how would he (the character) do this or do that?  What would he chose? What is next thing that might happen?  Does that feel right, does this feel right?  And then I wait until I have the answer.

I also research and ask questions of people; how do they do the things that they do, the jobs that they have, or things that they enjoy.  A person spends a lot of time each day at their work, they love it, they hate it; but they grow in it, and it changes them because they are interacting with other people; and often not people who would necessarily be friend choices.  Watching people at work tells you a lot about them.  You see personality manifested through their actions. As an illustrator, my job is showing the reader what is happening.  That is a writer’s job is as well.  You want to show a lot about your characters through the way they move through their day or through a problem.

I am working on a young adult novel.  It has been a long term project; in fact, I have been working on it now for over five years.  I have tried to create a character of a mixed cultural background deriving the personality of Isaac, the principle character, from the Hispanic people of Northern New Mexico, with whom I have lived as neighbors and friends for many years.  I also wanted to combine his personality with things I have read in Orthodox writings, wanting him to come from a background that has partly Orthodox roots.  I went so far as to create a history for Isaac’s grandfather as well, who, though not actively met within the book, has a major impact on the central character’s consciousness and responses, and whose influence has greatly formed his character.

This is a road trip story, so I took the road trip.  I know where my character is going, what these places look like, and how he will feel about those places before he gets there.

That kind of “story” gathering is an important part of the pantry that provides food for a book and the representation of its characters who are not only good to write about but also good to read about.  With this method the adage, “Write what you know,” is played out to the hilt.

A fine artist and children’s book writer and illustrator, Claire received a BFA in art and education from the University of New Mexico. Working in a variety of different art forms for over thirty years, she has shown her work in galleries and museums and has received numerous awards. You can learn more about her published work at www.clairebrandenburg.com.  Claire is married. She and her husband have two grown children. Beside her work for Children’s Books and illustration, Claire is involved in the recording of Orthodox books and teachings on CD. Claire blogs at http://clairebrandenburg.blogspot.com and can also be found on Twitter and Facebook. If you visit her Facebook page, you’ll notice a link to Heavenly Ladder, a bookstore that was founded as part of an effort to establish an Orthodox Church in Taos, New Mexico. Check out the Heavenly Ladder “Travel” link to learn about tours and pilgrimages to Orthodox holy places.

Special Guest: Eleni reviews “Letters to Saint Lydia”

Eleni and her sister

Do you ever feel overwhelmed, misunderstood, and confused about life? Do you get in fights with your parents and feel stressed out and frustrated about everything? Do you wish you had someone to talk to who understands and doesn’t judge you? Well, this is the kind of thing Lydia is going through the summer before she turns eighteen and becomes an adult. Lydia’s family converts to Orthodox Christianity without her, one of her best friends gets pregnant, and her comfortingly familiar life is falling apart as she gets ready to leave home for college. Lydia desperately needs a friend—and she finds one in the most surprising place: an icon of St. Lydia. Lydia tells the saint everything she is going through in her letters to St. Lydia, who invisibly answers, guiding her through the difficult times in her life with deep love and compassion.

Letters to Saint Lydia, by Melinda Johnson, is a book I connected to a lot (literally) because there is a girl in the story named Eleni who actually reminds me of myself. I was able to connect to Eleni’s personality and also to some of the Greek culture Eleni brings into the story because I am one quarter Greek and a lot of the things in this book had to do with some cultural things that are very similar to my family. When Lydia finally leaves home for college, she meets her new roommate, who happens to be Greek Orthodox, the Greek form of the religion her parents have just converted to. Her new roommate, Eleni, quickly becomes Lydia’s closest friend (besides St. Lydia) and helps guide and support Lydia through the challenges she deals with in college as well as in her spiritual struggles. For example, when Lydia gets a boyfriend who she thinks she’s in love with, Eleni tries to help Lydia to see what he’s really like and after the boyfriend attacks and leaves Lydia, Eleni is nothing but understanding and supportive and gets Lydia back to her normal self.

My evaluation of Lydia is that she is courageous and intelligent because even when she is questioning everything she thought she knew and she is confused about so many things, she keeps her head on her shoulders and never gives up or stops trying to find the whole truth. When she begins writing letters to Saint Lydia, she is skeptical and doesn’t even know whether or not she believes the saint exists, but still is comforted to pour her troubles out on the paper. She tells St. Lydia that she won’t pray to God or anything until she completely believes in Him, which I think is smart of her because I don’t think it’s a good idea to worship anything or anyone until you know for sure that it is the right thing to do. Later Lydia realizes that Saint Lydia really is reading her letters and has been giving her good advice and encouragement all along; Lydia is finally able to appreciate how much they really helped her through, even though she didn’t even know they were there at the time. I also thought Lydia was a good friend, because even when her friend Trella gets pregnant and isn’t able to go to college, Lydia still keeps in touch with her, comes to visit her all the way from college, and supports her through the extremely tough time of her pregnancy.

After I read the beginning of this book, I predicted that Lydia would meet some good new friends at college. It said how anxious she was to leave and I thought that she would probably end up meeting new friends who she would become closer to. I also predicted that she would meet someone else who was Orthodox who would inspire her. Both of my predictions were true because Lydia met Eleni, who was Orthodox and became a close friend of Lydia’s.

I really didn’t have a whole lot of questions while reading Letters to Saint Lydia, because the story was pretty clear and straightforward. As I read the first few pages, though, I did wonder if Saint Lydia would really answer Lydia’s letters and if Lydia would actually be able to read the saint’s letters. After reading a little further, I clarified that Saint Lydia was answering Lydia’s letters, but Lydia didn’t realize it until after she fully believed in Saint Lydia’s existence. I also was curious to know if Lydia and her mom would ever get along well, because their personalities seemed to clash
and they fought a lot before Lydia left for college. Later in the story, they started to connect more strongly and get closer. They ended up getting along much better when Lydia had her freedom and was out of the house, because Lydia’s mom didn’t have to tell her what to do all the time and Lydia didn’t feel so belittled and bossed around by her mother.

My final evaluation of this book is that it is a story many teenagers can connect to, even if they are not Orthodox or even Christian, because it is written in an understandable and interesting way. Even if people are going through different things than Lydia in their lives, some of the problems she has as she’s going to college and officially becoming an adult may be very similar to other teen’s struggles.

Letters to Saint Lydia is 207 pages long and there are many other characters besides Lydia, Saint Lydia, Eleni, and Trella. Some of them are Paul, Maria Louisa, Lauren, Jill, “Pogo”, and Jude. For example, towards the beginning of the story, Lydia’s best friends are Maria Louisa, Lauren, Jill, and Trella, who are on the high school volleyball team with her. Lydia refers to all of them as her
“volleyball family” and is very close to them up until college. However, later on in the book, as all their lives are changing and they don’t spend as much time together as before, Lydia begins to grow closer to Trella and Maria Louisa, but grows more distant with her friends Lauren and Jill. I think that this goes with the theme of the story, which is about a girl who is growing up and finding out who she is and what she believes in. In Letters to Saint Lydia, Lydia finds out who her true friends are and what is really important in life.

Orthodox Writers, Readers, and Artists: Grace Brooks

My mother tells me that one of the real benefits that I offered to a weary parent (I was the last of four children) was that if you put me in a room with a pencil and paper, I could amuse myself for hours and could even be heard laughing at what I had created.

I can appreciate what a boon that must’ve been, even though as an adult, I’ve got some reservations (Um, just how long were we leaving little Gracie in a room by herself? Couldn’t we have spent just a little of that time working on her social skills?).

But I can see that the signs were there that I was going to be one of those oddballs that the world sometimes celebrates and sometimes frets over. I was going to be someone who beheld a wonderful world full of airplanes, bumblebees, ice cream, cuckoo clocks and other delights and then felt an irrepressible urge to capture it, futile though that was. My heart would nearly burst with it: How do you draw sunshine? How do you spell the sound a hummingbird’s wings make? What notes sound like a day in October?

And, more importantly, how did everything fit together — what was the Story? What was the point of Life and what were the rules? As you grow, you get some tantalizing clues, and you get to see other people’s answers on the subject. And you encounter the engine of all our guesswork — our culture — and that can be a wonderful and terrible thing in its storytelling. I had no reason to believe that I had any really vital part of the story to relate, but there’s nothing for it, for the ones whose hearts lead them that way. I wanted to re-tell that Great Narrative, or at least as much of it as my life expressed. I still do.
 

Great expectations

I wish I could say my creative life as an adult was one big happy story, but it’s been rather bittersweet. At the same time that I converted to Orthodoxy and began one of the best times of my spiritual life, I started a series of frustrating attempts to find the creative outlet that would give me work to do that was close to my heart. I appreciate my years as a graphic artist, and I hope that I’ve helped others tell their stories, but it hasn’t helped me tell mine.

About 15 years ago, I got bitten by the bug to create a comic strip. After a couple lukewarm attempts, I got an idea out of the blue that put me on one of those roller coaster rides that every prospective artist and writer knows too well. Initial interest from a major syndicate made me think I was on my way to a life that seemed like a dream come true. But the syndicate dropped me, and after a year of self-syndicating (for the princely sum of $6 a week), I had to admit defeat. I think I still grieve sometimes for what I thought it would lead to, though I can see a lot of reasons why it might have been better in the long run that I failed.

I could skip this unhappy episode, but I think there’s value in expressing the part of being both creatively-inclined and Orthodox that we like the least– that is to say, the reality of wanting what is difficult (arguably impossible) to acquire. Failure is a distinct possibility and success can be very elusive. Struggling makes for a good narrative if victory is assured, but the Church has known its share of sorrows, and each of us has our own to reflect upon as well. I would’ve liked easy success in both my creative and spiritual labors; instead, I have to deal with reality … and I struggle.
 

Creativity 2.0

Not that I’ve given up on writing and drawing. Blogging doesn’t pay, of course, but it does allow me to work on some skills with words and images. I get some design assignments from time to time that indulge my sense of whimsy (as with a superhero potato character I’m doing right now for a storage facility) (don’t ask). And all the while, my church life has kept me grounded and helped me to break out of the confines of my five senses, my narrow aesthetics and my enslavement to the realms of imagination.

As for my next trick, who knows? I start to wonder if, as Melinda says, I’ll find that the next project is more of a joint endeavor. It would seem to reflect more about who I am now if it was less of a one-woman show and more of a team effort.

I’m interested in a lot more of our popular culture than I used to be, and I see a lot of opportunity for Orthodoxy to find expression there. Cultural offerings have certainly gotten more vulgar and secular in my lifetime, but suddenly the opportunities to create mini-cultures have exploded. I would like to see a flowering of Orthodox themes in self-publication (as Barbara Shukin did), and also in videocasts, CD recordings, graphic novels, computer games–who can say? Technology is increasing the number of people who get to tell a story, and Orthodox have a voice in the Christian narrative that has been sorely lacking. We’re more earthy, but still attached to the sacred. We’re less sentimental, less rationalistic, more scientific and fully invested in the mystery of the Church. I’d love to hear more stories offered from an Orthodox-informed perspective.

But I haven’t won the lottery this week, so I suppose I can’t be a patron of all the change I’d like to see. I’ll have to dust off whatever skills I have and see where I can start.

Where did I leave those crayons? And does anyone have an extra blue one?

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Grace Brooks is a freelance graphic artist and cartoonist living in Phoenix, Arizona, with her gracious husband Greg and a coonhound named Clementine. She has a BA in Fine Arts from UC Irvine, and has been a graphic artist for 28 years. She hosts a blog at www.this-side-of-glory.com

Orthodox Writers, Readers, and Artists: Sheena Hisiro

Admittedly, when Melinda first contacted me about writing a piece for her blog, I was a little hesitant.  After all, I didn’t major in writing.  Rather, I went to school for illustration, to learn to bring stories to life via pictures, not words.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I can do this.  While a writing degree may not be in my background, the subject matter of this piece is something I am very familiar with–my artwork.

This summer I was fortunate enough to work with Conciliar Press illustrating a new children’s book, written by Kelly Lardin, being released early next year.  The book, entitled Josiah and Julia Go to Church: A Young Child’s Guide to Church Etiquette, is a playful story for children teaching them what they should (and shouldn’t) do in church.

Obviously, with the book being set in a church, I needed to draw a church.  Rather than create a fictitious one, a concept that came immediately to mind was to depict the church I grew up in, Christ the Saviour Orthodox Church, where I spent many a childhood day.  For a number of the images, I drew from memory, having spent many hours over the course of my life studying every visual detail of the church–the pattern of the floor, the pews, the intricate wood carvings decorating the iconostasis, the decorative and very colorful garments worn by the priest and altar boys, the parishioners, the beautiful icons, the different candles burning, and once they were finished, the very large icons adorning almost every wall in the church.  These in particular fascinated me as
a child and continue to do so as an adult, with all the detail and care with which they were painted, as well as how each tells a different story.  For someone with a passion for anything visual, the church is a feast for the eyes.

The priest in the story is again my priest from childhood, Fr. Daniel Ressetar.  Up until the last couple of years when he retired, Fr. Dan was the priest at Christ the Saviour. That is to say, he “officially” retired; if you go on Sunday, you’re very likely to see him helping out with the current priest, Fr. Stephen.  Fr. Dan was then, and continues to be, an influential part of my life.  Many times when I go home to visit family, I have some news clipping or other compliments of Fr. Dan, be it an article he thought of interest to me, news about Orthodoxy, Church Bulletins, and occasionally, a book that he thought I might like.  He was there for many big events in my life, church-related and non-church related alike–my baptism, first communion (and many communions after that), first confession, high school graduation, the release of my first children’s book and subsequent one, and would have attended the most recent if not for a previous engagement.  Including him in the story was my way of paying tribute, of saying thank you, to Fr. Dan for everything he has done and continues to do for me.

Over the course of my life, many people have said, “You have a gift from God,” or “You have been truly blessed with artistic talent.”  I am very grateful to have this gift and pray that I am able to continue to utilize my talent for a very long time.

Sheena Hisiro has been drawing since she could hold a pencil. She currently lives in Brooklyn, NY where she is still drawing and loving every minute of it. Sheena is currently illustrating children’s books, designing greeting cards, and drawing cupcakes.

Orthodox Writers, Readers, and Artists: Barbara Shukin

When Melinda asked me if I would be interested in writing a blog post about writing, I thought, “Well, I am an author, I self-publish my books… Oh! Sure. I’d be glad to contribute.” But then it occurred to me, “Oh, she wants writers: people who ‘write.’ But, I don’t really ‘write.”’

You see, my background is in art. I have a Master’s degree in sculpture, and furthermore, my experience lies along the lines of conceptual art. After all, I went to the University of Illinois at Chicago during the ‘80’s. That’s what we did there and then. I have ideas.I make things. Making art and teaching is what I am “qualified” for. But, regardless, the truth is, over the past 10 years I have found myself doing quite a lot of writing.

What got me into this position, where I needed to express myself this way, is that I had an idea for a series of history notebooks: the History Portfolio books. These are books which the children build by adding written work and images according to the provided outline, and in the end function as a record of their history studies and a keepsake. Part of this original vision included publishing books for Orthodox Christian children as well, and so several years ago, I published a book called Journaling Throughout the Liturgical Year, which is a notebook as well. You see the theme? Making things. The initial idea and the production of the Portfolios didn’t require much writing, just the original vision, tons of research, and artistic decisions. Concepts, researching, making. These were areas I was familiar and comfortable with. But what happened next was that I needed to explain how to use the books, write introductions, web content, etc.  And, further down the line, I wrote Teacher’s Guides for each of the books. So, it’s snowballed.

But, “how did I get here” is not what I want to write about today. I want to write about “here I am,” and how to make the best of it. One of the first things that came to mind when gathering my thoughts about this blog post was sharing a couple of revelations I’ve had about “here I am.” About 11 years ago, I became very involved with a consuming project with our church. With the blessing of our Bishop, our group had just purchased a temple which needed to be remodeled. At this time, I had just my two oldest children.  Nearly every day from May – September, for some part of the day, we went to work on the church. I remember, one day, sitting in the church in the mess of lumber and dust and half-painted projects, and the letters of St. Theophan the Recluse came to mind. In this book, The Spiritual Life: And How to Be Attuned to It, St. Theophan replies to a young woman’s recent letter.

“What has happened to you? What kinds of questions are these? ‘I do not know what to do with my life. Should I be doing something in particular? Should I define some particular purpose for myself?’  I read this and I was dumbfounded; where could such odd thoughts have come from?” (87)

The chapter continues, and he makes it clear that she is not to waste time on these questions, but to do the work which God has put before her! This resonated with me because at this time I was personally a little conflicted because I had left other projects at home. But I looked around and thought, I did not look for this, I did not choose it, but it was put before me. And, I was so thankful for the work which had been put before me, and thankful that I didn’t have to choose between projects or be the navigator.

Earlier this year, I had another experience which reminds me of the experience I just described. I was listening to the radio, while alone in the car. As a homeschool mom, let me tell you, this occurrence is rare!  But, I heard the story of a man involved in some charitable organization, who was working in a faraway land bringing roads and, as I remember, communication capabilities. I thought, “Oh, I’d love to do something like that! It’s so meaningful!” For just a moment or two I contemplated this. But, I quickly turned my mind to something more constructive and thought, “Well, what would I do, if I could?” And, I thought, envisioning a faraway land, “I would like to teach… to work with children… to somehow touch their lives with books, good books…” and as I narrowed it down, I realized… “That’s what I do! I’m doing it! I am living my dream!” It was a very delightful surprise. And, again, I was so thankful for the work which has been put before me.

Sometimes, I clearly have jobs before me, and the work is rich and full of challenges. But, there are plenty of times that I flounder in my work. I recently heard a Russian proverb, “Pray to God, but keep rowing to shore.” In the lull between projects, or in the middle of a project which seems to be feebly coming along, I feel the need to gather some kindling to get the fire going. Back in my art school days, we had a guest visit by a curator of a gallery, and she gave some advice which I think is applicable here. She said, “Everyday, you need to be with your art, working and thinking to some degree. Some days will not be as productive or creative, and on those days you need to at least be in your studio cleaning your brushes or preparing your work space.” With my writing, I may not have the same tools of the trade as a painter or sculptor, but I do find that the more I stay away from my craft, the more distant I feel from it, a chasm opens up, and the less inclined I am to plunge in as soon as an idea strikes me.

To keep moving along, or stoke the fire, it has proven to be a good thing for me to take up small projects which are just above my comfort level. This forces me to keep learning new things. Many of these projects are teaching opportunities, giving me the reason, and deadline, to create new activities along the lines of the Portfolio and the Liturgical Year Journal. Speaking or presenting workshops has been an area which has given me the opportunity to collect my thoughts, and write. Definitely outside my comfort zone, but good for me. Deadlines and accountability can be good.  I just take each opportunity as a challenge to develop.

To really keep a good fire burning, I have found that, for me, a good length of time for a big project is about 5 or 6 months. I love to really live in a project for a while, immersing myself as much as I can, and then gaining that sense of completeness when it is done. Once I get some distance on a finished project, I find that if I can look back at my year and know I’ve finished something, it seems to provide a semblance of order, and satisfaction. Of course, completing a project… raising the curtain on the show, presenting myself and my work as if saying “this is the best I can do,” has its own problems. It can be hair-raising at worst, and humbling at best. I have repeatedly watched myself delay the end of a project, not wanting that creative fire to end. Apparently, my thinking was, “It was safe working on this project. I have a job to do, I have a clear direction, I know what I’m doing. And… when this project is over, what am I going to do?! Oh no, I’ll have to come up with something all over again, and it’s going to be messy!”

Mess or not, writing or building, it can’t be helped. It’s what I do. I make things.

Barbara Shukin is an Orthodox Christian mother of five children from ages 21 down to 4, and has homeschooled since the beginning. After receiving her MFA in sculpture from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, she taught for several years at the college level, and was concurrently the director of a college art gallery. She continues to teach through local homeschool co-ops, and by offering art classes for homeschoolers. Barbara is the author and publisher of the History Portfolio Series, the Nature Portfolio, and Journaling Throughout the Liturgical Year, offering a notebooking approach to the study of history, nature study, and the Orthodox faith.

Orthodox Writers, Readers, and…Artists!

Paint!

I am delighted to announce that the “Orthodox Writers and Readers” series is expanding to include Orthodox artists, iconographers, and, with a bit of luck, an Orthodox composer I met at church last Sunday! You may also have noticed that the original goal of two guests each month has been expanded to “however many guests we can fit” each month.

I love the series as it is, but I decided that if some is good (and it has been so good!), more is better! The more facets of the gem we consider, the more beauty we permit ourselves to experience. What does writing words have in common with “writing” icons? What does verbal description share with oil painting? What spiritual journey is unique to each kind of art? I want to know!

I hope we can explore every area of the creative life through the eyes of Orthodox Christians who are living it. I suspect each form of art brings its own visions and temptations, and its own gifts.