Inspiration Library: Lynda Barry

I've been a big fan of Lynda Barry's ever since I discovered her serial cartoon Ernie Pook's Comique, which ran in the Georgia Straight newspaper for something like 30-odd years. She has this quirky, child-like drawing style that pulls you into her observations of life, and the lives of her characters. It was in her cartoons that I first realized that you can have your heart broken AND healed at the same time. I may not have *her* life, or that of her characters, but I knew those heartbreaks, I'd learned those lessons, I'd gained those strengths - usually the hard way, just like her characters did.

If you don't make it all the way to the longer video links at the end of this blog post, I think you should at least watch this short 7-minute video on Lynda Barry, and you'll know why she's one of my creative heroes. It'll also give you a window into the mind that created the books we discussed in class.

She's drawn some very moving graphic stories about childhood ~ the unfairnesses of it, the small delights, the mysteries, fears and hopes that come to us all in our time, particularly if we are observant, and thoughtful, and most of all hopeful that things will someday make sense. If you are new to her work, I highly recommend her book One! Hundred! Demons!

In recent years, she's moved on to much more serious pursuits with her art, delving into the meaning of images, the function of memory, the value of making art even if you think you can't. Her book What It Is literally blew my head off creatively. I found it by accident when I was looking for something else (can't remember what now!), and nearly had a meltdown in the store. I could not wait to get home and dive straight in. Part memoir, part philosophy, part workbook ~ it will take you to new places and reward you richly for engaging with it. Imagine being 12 years old again. Imagine being curious about consciousness, memory, and meaning. Now imagine somebody using words and pictures and stickers and scribbles to show you those things in ways you never imagined. Exactly.

Even more recently, she began teaching at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, creating a course loosely based on her work in What It Is, which eventually became an even briefer work/study book called Syllabus: Notes from An Accidental Professor. It contains the exercises from the course she teaches called The Unthinkable Mind. Follow along in the book and you can pretend you're a student in her class. Even better, you can actually follow along with her current crop of students at her Tumblr blog: The Nearsighted Monkey. Be warned: the range of things she throws at her students are many, varied and "out there". She is very serious about play, and the world is a better place for it.

We had a lot of fun in class on Wednesday with some of the contents of Syllabus. Firstly, the classroom rules she sets (page 55) included "We don't use our real names in class", and "We don't give advice or opinions of the work of our classmates".

On page 60, she lists all the things she wants her students to put in their workbooks, and I read it aloud to everyone because it's a darn fine list, and you most certainly should include as much as you can in your own journal. I was so inspired by page 60, that I created my own version in my journal:

I even attempted my own "Brunetti-style" cartoon of myself. Feel free to print this page out for your journal if you want, or better yet ~ make your own version. I would love that! And so would Lynda.

She's featured in several online videos as well:

• Creativity and Learning: A Conversation with Lynda Barry, Lynda. com (40 min)
• Lynda Barry: Accessing the Imaginary, Penny Stamps Distinguished Speaker Series (57 min)

I was lucky enough to take a writing class with her as part of the Writers and Readers Festival a few years ago, and while I haven't turned into a writer, I've definitely learned how to pay attention to my world better. I also remember her quirky rules ~ no looking at the person who's reading, no comment or criticism from anyone, and from her, a simple "Good! Good!", no matter what you wrote. We're so geared to work for praise that at first, you're not sure that's how a writing class should be run. And then you start writing, and you know it's all about the stories, and every single one of those stories we wrote and read aloud that day *was* good. It may have been because there was no ego in the way of the writing, but whatever the reason, I know my writing was better, and that's good enough for me.

And last, but not least, here's your handout for your journal, all about Lynda.

One more post and we all are caught up for this class. In my last post, I'll have page 7 of the handouts, plus all my journal pages, showing you what I did with them. See you in a bit!