Still Life

Learning to look - to really observe things closely, is one of the great skills you pick up studying art. I had a very 'old school' academic training - hours spent studying still life, drawing teacups, mannequins, perfecting the drape of fabric, how to render the luminosity of glass or the structure (on one mind numbing occasion), of a complete engine. I was - still am - impatient, mentally restless and have a very low boredom threshold. During a free session I launched into an abstract piece - my teacher memorably said 'Don't rush. Simplicity is deceptively difficult. You need to learn to look, to master representation before you can handle abstraction'.

Looking closely at what is around you grounds you. Just as studying still life or the human form in life drawing gives your work 'bones' and structure, slowing down and describing what you see in words is a useful exercise for writers who spend most of their time roaming in the imaginary. Our choices are infinite - our books and stories can be about anything and anybody. Something it took me a while to figure out is the importance of detail. The things you may skip over as a writer have significance to your reader. If a character drops a key on the pavement as they leave home, your reader will expect it to play a pivotal part in the story not just lie there. An object can be a concrete focus in a story, giving your reader tantalising clues to what's going on behind the scene.

The ability to show what people have seen or thought a million times but never really noticed is a tremendous skill for a writer to have. I happened on Willy Russel's brilliant Shirley Valentine the other night. I hadn't seen it for years - the film seems dated, but the sentiment isn't. When it was released, it was the first time people talked about escaping the confines of a little, still life to follow their dreams. As Shirley says at one point: "I have led such a little life, I have allowed myself to lead this little life when inside there is so much more. And it has all gone unused, and now it never will be. Why do we get all these feelings and dreams and hopes if we don't ever use them? That is how Shirley Valentine disappeared, she got lost in all this unused life." It's a beautifully written film - funny, resonant and true. It spoke to people, made them look at what was under their noses. Maybe that skill and humility only comes with age - the realisation of our commonality. The experiences and thoughts you have are yours - but it's likely hundreds, if not thousands of potential readers have been through similar situations or thought the same things but never expressed it. As Lindsay said about YA theatre scripts the other day, the 'me too!' reaction is a fantastic one. As writers if we can show people they are not alone, and help them see what's before their eyes with beautifully crafted words then that is something worth slowing down for and doing well.

TODAY'S PROMPT: If you're anything like me it feels like time is running away with you. There's not enough hours in the day and a relentless momentum juggling work/family/bureaucracy. As 'doing a Shirley Valentine' and running off to a Greek island isn't an option for most of us, why not take a break today and look around. Take a coffee and a notebook out in the sun and really look - the artists among you why not sketch what you can see instead of what's in your mind, the writers describe the scene? One of the most interesting still life classes I took was when we were told to draw the shapes between things rather than the things themselves. Drawing the voids and shadows instead of the chair teaches you a great deal about the article itself. In the same way today why don't you have a think about the shapes and spaces between your characters - what's left unsaid, or undone? What can you show or say about them without putting it down in black and white? Don't rely on what you think is going on, or have just accepted is there. Show people what they know but have never really noticed before. Why not slow down, and really look at what's in front of you?