Creative Sparks: What do "Wandering Stars", "Refuge", and "Wings of Desire" all have in common?*
*The answer is: relationship-with-place + they’re some of my personal favorites
Everyone has favorite books and films, and of course I’m no exception. I used to do a lot of note-taking with both, writing down lines that sparked inspiration or resonated in some way. Lately though, I haven’t been as good at taking notes, and even reading books at all has been more difficult lately. Is it a shorter attention span because of social media? Too much multi-tasking? Less perceived time? Some combo of things?
I’m not sure, but over the past few months, I’ve made a more concerted effort to take blocks of time to read and take notes if something jumps out at me. Because I want to be able to remember what was meaningful. I’ve been inspired by reading the Noted substack about artist/writer notebooks by Jillian Hess (no relation!)
Star Quality
The book I’m reading right now is Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange. It’s heartbreaking. The writing is beautiful and exquisite. It evokes feelings and connections that have been needed to be evoked in literature.
If you haven’t read it yet, pick up a copy for your winter read. I’m not even finished with it and I know it’s one of my most influential books, thanks to so many things, including the topic’s meaningfulness to me, the viewpoints and how they are expressed, and also because of the sense of place evoked in multiple locations, including nearby Oakland, CA and how we are part of place.
I’m not surprised by this, because my favorite books and films have always had a through line, and it’s relationship with place. For example, Wings of Desire, that gorgeous Wim Wenders film set in Berlin. When I saw it in 1989 on the big screen, I was instantly obsessed with the pre-drone era overhead shots of the city, scenes by the Berlin wall, (still intact then), the ramshackle circus, that Nick Cave nightclub scene, Peter Falk’s film set, and I was fascinated with the particular kind of magical realism that seems like it could only happen there.
The characters are wonderful, true, but it felt like they could only be wonderful in that particular city — by the Potsdamer Platz, in the gorgeous Berlin library, in that underground nightclub.
The same even goes for Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, (art and artist discussion aside) and for Alan Rudolph’s The Moderns, or Jim Jarmusch’s Night on Earth — other films set in cities that showcase the particularities of those beautiful places.
Land as Refuge
Or one of my favorite books — mainly because of its early influence —Refuge, An Unnatural History of Family and Place, by Terry Tempest Williams. She writes a vulnerable memoir of her mother’s death, integrating it with another narrative — the rise of the Great Salt Lake which is obliterating much of the Bird Refuge where she works.
They are both destructive biological processes — in her mother’s case, because of nuclear testing in Nevada which led to cancer in every woman in Williams’ family. The part where they literally watched the nuclear tests when she was a child is described as part of a short essay at the end of Refuge called The Clan of One-Breasted Women.
In the early 1990s, when I was a reluctant mormon student at Brigham Young University studying art and writing, that essay was reprinted in the alternative, unsanctioned student newspaper The Student Review.
It was my first exposure to Williams, and as I read her work, I saw familiar reflections in her mormon experience which was, like mine, complicated, and informed by place. In her case, that place was Utah and Nevada, and in my case, it was the contrast between Utah, where I was currently at university, and the San Francisco Bay Area where I grew up (and still live today).
I became acutely aware in that moment how place informs us, how it can both shape our experiences and mirror them, as in Refuge. I began to consciously and unconsciously look for clues as to who I was in the places where I found myself, and for personal shifts that may arise from the effects of time not only in my own body but also in the body of land where I live. It’s so practical but so powerful.
Join one of my writing classes below (or give as a gift!) in the New Year
Ready, Set, Write!
A 2-hour workshop to spark creativity in your writing
Making time to write can be challenging, and deciding where to focus can feel overwhelming. This workshop provides a straightforward creative inquiry process to guide you.
You’ll explore seven key entry points into writing—using time, place, and memory—through hands-on exercises and group discussions.
By the end, you’ll have a clear direction for your next project, a strong beginning, and even a community to help you stay on track.
Lovely read Kary. Made me think of Perfect Days by Wim Wenders for the beautiful particularities of Tokyo