Artist-in-Residency Part II + Tips for Getting the Most Out of Your Artist's Residency or Retreat Experience

* Continued from last week's post about my stint as the Artist-in-Residence at The Reserve at Lake Keowee in Sunset, S.C.

As promised, here's a bit more about my time at The Reserve, where I stayed for a week with my entire family (minus the dog). Last week I mentioned the talks I gave and the fun we had as a family--and even the actual writing of pages (the few, the proud) I was able to complete. This week I'll finish up my recap and offer some tips from my own experiences about how to best utilize an artist's residency like this one.
 

As mentioned, The Reserve is a private community on Lake Keowee, nestled in the foothills of the South Carolina Blue Ridge mountains. The entire Keowee River Valley was flooded in the 1960s to make the lake; the very land on which my novel, Keowee Valley, is set--especially the real-life settings of the Cherokee village of Keowee Town and the British Fort Prince George, lie beneath those blue waters. Or what's left of them after a couple hundred-plus years, a hurried excavation, time and the sheer tonnage of water and pull of gravity.

 
For a moving, gorgeous and powerful first-person account of the excavation and flooding of the Keowee River Valley, see "History's Mornings" in LOST magazine, by the award-winning author, poet and composer Philip Lee Williams.

 

The Valley is steeped in history, obviously. I was delighted to get to explore two 19th century graveyards on the property. Kathryn Gravely, Director of the Community Foundation, happily took me to each. She and some members of the community have painstakingly cared for these resting places, gently clearing away debris, but being sure not to disturb the graves themselves.

I love old graveyards, like most history nuts. They've never scared me; even as a child, wandering through spooky Lowcountry cemeteries draped in gray, ghostly Spanish moss, I always felt comfortable. There just seemed to be so many stories, so many lifetimes there.

Giving my talk at Orchard House

On our last night at The Reserve I gave a history talk at Orchard House, a lovely and well-appointed room with hefty leather chairs and a huge stone fireplace, located in the Clubhouse. There was a nice crowd, and they asked the most interesting questions. Though I'm certainly no expert, especially when it comes to the Cherokee, I did spend nearly two years--and time since--immersed in research of the period, the people, and the languages and cultures of the place. I'm not afraid to admit when I don't know something.


All in all, it was an amazingly peaceful and productive week--even with my entire family in

Standing outside the Clubhouse

tow! (And that's saying an awful lot.) I'm incredibly thankful to the amazing Kathryn Coleman Gravely, The Community Foundation, and the wonderful people of The Reserve for their generosity. It's impressive to see a community like this one--one that has formed its own collective identity with purpose and grace--place such a high value on the arts, and on nourishing artists. What a gift!

Dessert at the Clubhouse on our last night

So, if you're an artist or a writer like me, and you get the chance to take part in an artist's residency, here are some tips I've found helpful:

1.) Get to know the people in the community where you're residing.

Even if you've got to bury your head in your work, take the time to venture out and meet the people who live in the town, who run the residency, or who live and work nearby. They're part of the makeup of the place, and their stories are priceless. They're happy you're there--and that happiness will carry over into your own work, lighting it from beneath.

2.) Be flexible and full of good humor.

You never know what can happen over the course of an artist's residency. Some residencies last days, some weeks, and some even months. When I was at the Montana Artists' Refuge for a month, the refrigerator in my apartment made a horrible rumbling noise and then groaned as if it was dying every night. At the Vermont Studio Center, where I spent another month, the house I stayed in was haunted. There were heavy footsteps outside my door for several nights in a row. No lie. And at The Reserve, we ended up having to leave a day early because of a scheduling mix-up. The point is, none of these things mattered. They were tiny blips in the grand scheme of what I hope (and pray) will be a long career as a writer. What I gleaned from each residency far out-weighed anything so insignificant as a bump in the road.

3.) Get out and explore.

No matter where you're residing, get out and explore the natural and man-made worlds around you. It can only inform your art, make it richer, more vibrant and true. In Montana, I met another writer who I discovered was also an avid hiker. We hiked in every state and national forest within a three hour's drive of the Refuge. In October. Sometimes in feet and feet of snow. Did I write as much as I could have? Probably not. But I'll never forget those hikes, the talks, the snow-capped Rockies and endless big sky. Trust me: you will feed off these first-hand experiences for months and even years afterward.

4.) Know all the particulars of your residency beforehand.

When are you supposed to arrive? Depart? Is someone picking you up and dropping you off at the airport/bus station/train station? Should you get a taxi? Do taxis even come out to where you're staying? Do you need to bring linens? Is there a washer/dryer? What about food? Do you need to buy groceries or is there a dining hall? Will you need a rental car, or can you walk just about everywhere? What are your responsibilities while you're in residence: do you need to attend readings, give readings, mingle with townsfolk, other residents, etc? And my Numero Uno: is there a coffee maker and does it work?

5.) Suck the very marrow out of your time there.

Use every moment you have, in some way, to inform your art. Read, write, meditate, listen to music, and do it all over again until you are entirely present in the moment. Get up early. Stay up late. Take naps. You have left your world behind: a world that most likely includes work, friends, family, and a myriad of responsibilities that sometimes weigh heavily. Let them go, as much as is humanly possible. They will be there waiting for you when you return. But you will never get this uninterrupted creative time again. Use it, embrace it, luxuriate in it. Sound your barbaric yawp across whatever rooftop you can find.

6.) Be grateful.

Always be truly thankful for this precious time you've been given. Thank the people in charge, like the residency directors, and the people who aren't--like the maids who clean your cabin/apartment/studio space, or the cooks at the dining hall. Write thank you notes. Write letters to the board of the foundation that paid for you to be there. Thank them for choosing you, for taking a chance on you and your art, for shining a light on artists and creativity in a world that too often seems dim.

If you haven't been lucky enough to enjoy an artist's residency, take heart. There are plenty out there, and one will be perfect for you. Keep writing, creating, and applying.

Artist-in-Residence: The Reserve at Lake Keowee (Part I)

I've enjoyed a few artist residencies during my short time as a published writer, and they've all been different: located in different parts of the country, with varying lengths of stay, accommodations, perks, and expectations of the artist. Certainly, my own creative output during each has varied. During one artists' residency, I began a new novel; at another, I researched that novel and wrote poetry; at yet a different residency, I wrote an essay that actually won an award that ended up covering the cost of a rental car and plane fare to and from that residency.

 

At my most recent gig as the very lucky Artist-in-Residence at The Reserve at Lake Keowee in Sunset, South Carolina, where I stayed for a week, I wrote five pages of what I imagine will be the sequel to Keowee Valley.

I know what you're thinking. Five pages--only five pages--in a week's time? Let me explain: my family was there with me. Yep, the husband, the (newly-turned) 4 year-old, and the 12 week-old. Only one absent was the dog.

I know there are writers out there who can write amid professional and familial chaos, but I am not one of them. My brain spins in overdrive and my imagination is as fickle and mercurial as an afternoon thunderstorm over the Southern Appalachians. And if you know nothing about the storms we get around here, they're moody, fast-moving, completely random, and often violent.

 

the Guest House (or, as my 4 year-old says, the "castle house")

So what I'm saying is, five pages is miraculous! Especially since the 3rd trimester of pregnancy and these first few months of my infant's life have been energy-sucking. Wonderful, wouldn't-trade-it-for-the-world wild, and exhausting. To feel inspired to write again was a blessing. And the impetus for the inspiration was entirely because of our gorgeous and peaceful accommodations at the guest house of a pair of incredibly generous members. (Who also happen to be HUGE Clemson fans. Go Tigers!)
 
 

The guest house was set away from the main house across a lovely bridge spanning a little

"our" bridge (my husband's got the infant carseat; my 4 year-old's the
tiny figure sprinting ahead)

mountain cove. Bubbling and gurgling (and full-on rushing, as it was after several days in a row of rain) down the back of that tree-filled cove was a series of small waterfalls. The creek rushed beneath the bridge just below the house, emptying into the lake nearby. Inside, the home was elegant, warm and comfortable--a combination I think can be sometimes difficult to find. Designed with rich wood, stunning stone and completely outfitted with anything a guest could need, it was the perfect place to get my groove back.

Yes, I just said that. Forgive me, Stella.

For most of the days we were there, if the baby and the 4 year-old let me, I would wake at 5 a.m., brew my coffee and head out to the screened-in porch on the second story. The porch overlooked the aforementioned bridge and creek, and so when I looked out all I saw were green trees--all I heard the rush of water through the woods. Heaven.

 

Kathryn Gravely, the Director of the The Community Foundation, had pretty much the absolute perfect week planned for me: one book talk to members of a couple different book clubs in The Reserve, two informal meet-and-greets with members outside The Reserve's Market, and one history talk at Orchard House, a beautiful room with a huge fireplace located at the Clubhouse. Orchard House reminded my husband and me of an inn we'd stayed in when we'd traveled in Scotland several years ago. With a kick of Southern style, of course.

The rest of the week, Kathryn told me, I was to relax with my family at the lake and by the community's fabulous pools (let me just say that there was a grotto), enjoy the natural beauty of The Reserve (the lake, hiking trails, orchard, views, etc), and to WRITE. What a gift!

As a bonus, I met some fantastic people during the week, at the informal gatherings, by the pool, at the Market, and at both my talks. Kathryn--who is as genuine, classy, cool, and savvy as they come (not to mention very, very good at her job)--had assured me at the beginning of the week that The Reserve was home to some of the friendliest people I'd ever meet, and she was right. In addition--and she'd told me this, too--the folks there were welcoming, very casual, inclusive, and fun. This was something I'd not necessarily expected from a place as "exclusive" as The Reserve. Meeting and talking with people from all walks of life is probably, besides the actually crafting of the story, my favorite thing to do as a writer.

In addition to all the good fellowship, let me just say that this was an incredibly generous artist residencies in so many other ways. And I'm truly grateful to have received it.

 
** Next time, I'll talk about some of the other things I got to do at The Reserve, including exploring a couple of early 19th century graveyards, hiking around an "Indian cave," and answering questions about local Cherokee history and culture. I'll also share my thoughts about how to best enjoy and utilize an artists' residency like this one.