The pieces (and only the pieces) ... begin the creative process for me. And the process by which the recollections of these pieces coalesce ... is creation. ~Toni Morrison
Creativity Prompt #5: In the Uncommon Light of Memory | 30-Day Creativity Challenge
Boats and setting sun (1900 - 1936) by Ohara Koson
Welcome to Day 5 of our 30-Day Creativity Challenge! I hope that by dipping into these exercises—whether you have spent a little time or a lot, whether you have completed all, some, or only part of one—you have entered April with more creative awareness and awakeness than you might have otherwise. And if for any reason you have not yet begun any of the exercises, don’t waste a second berating or regretting. Every exercises is archived in order. You have all the time you need, and most of these exercises can be completed in just 5-10 minutes (although you are welcome to take more time and/or complete them multiple times; they are meant to be highly elastic and tend to deepen when repeated).
With that said, let’s talk about memory, because that’s where today’s creative prompt will take us. And if you would prefer to skip straight to the prompt, just scroll down to the bolded header Creativity Prompt #4: In The Uncommon Light of Memory.
In his 1690 work, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding,” John Locke wrote about the entwinement of memory and the self. Locke proposes that our personal identity extends only so far as our consciousness. In fact, so linked in Locke’s work is the connection between consciousness and memory that his theory is referred to as the "memory theory of personal identity." And despite some criticism, Locke’s memory theory of personal identity remains a prominent subject of discussion among modern philosophical circles.
Ultimately, the accumulation of memories from meaningful and emotionally important life experiences give rise to a sense of self, or a feeling that we exist as a distinct and unique person. Memory undergirds a sense of continuity around who we have been, who we are, and who we will become. In other words, our memories help us recognize ourselves as distinct beings with identities that can endure across time despite life’s many vagaries and ever-changing circumstances, enabling reflection upon one’s past, as well as anticipation of the future.
Toni Morrison wrote about memory and the self, as well, through the lens of writing. In her brilliant and provocative essay, “Memory, Creation, and Writing,” Morrison wrote:
Memory (the deliberate act of remembering) is a form of willed creation. It is not an effort to find out the way it really was—that is research. The point is to dwell on the way it appeared and why it appeared in that particular way.
Morrison goes on to describe how she employs deliberate remembering in her creative process:
I once knew a woman named Hannah Peace. I say knew, but nothing could be less accurate. I was perhaps four years old when she was in the town where I lived. I don't know where (or even if) she is now, or to whom she was related then. She was not even a visiting friend. I couldn't describe her in a way that would make her known in a photograph, nor would I recognize her if she walked into this room. But I have a memory of her, and it's like this: the color of her skin—the matte quality of it. Something purple around her. Also eyes not completely open. There emanated from her an aloofness that seemed to me kindly disposed. But most of all I remember her name—or the way people pronounced it. Never Hannah or Miss Peace. Always Hannah Peace. And more: something hidden- some awe perhaps, but certainly some forgiveness. When they pronounced her name they (the women and the men) forgave her something.
That's not much, I know: half-closed eyes, an absence of hostility, skin powdered in lilac dust. But it was more than enough to evoke a character in fact, any more detail would have prevented (for me) the emergence ofa fictional character at all. What is useful-definitive-is the galaxy of emotion that accompanied the woman as I pursued my memory of her, not the woman herself. (I am still startled by the ability - even the desire - to "use" acquaintances or friends or enemies as fictional characters. There is no yeast for me in a real-life person, or else there is so much it is not useful-it is done-bread, already baked.) The pieces (and only the pieces) are what begin the creative process for me. And the process by which the recollections of these pieces coalesce into a part (and knowing the difference between a piece and a part) is creation. Memory, then, no matter how small the piece remembered, demands my respect, my attention, and my trust.
Likewise, one of my own mentors, the poet and teacher Paul Matthews, says in his creative writing sourcebook, Sing Me The Creation:
A remembered image often has a special light around it, more charged with feeling than the impressions that come to us “in the light of common day.”
And that is precisely what we’re going to invite into to emerge from our subconscious minds and onto the page today—impressions that come to us through the uncommon light of memory. This prompt includes step by step instructions for one of the most successful creative writing prompts I’ve ever offered while teaching retreats, workshops, and classes, whether on the beach in Ixtapa, the ice house at Stout’s Island, community ed classrooms, my living room, or Lit B in the basement of Stillwater Prison. Across settings, demographics, and writing backgrounds of lack thereof, this prompt tends to yield surprising, beautiful, strange, and valuable results. I hope you enjoy it!