Taken by the Wind » Artists Abroad

Personality Types and Blogging: How Personality May Affect Your Writing

Reannon Muth — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 05:52:18 +0000

Photo by Ed Yourdon

Side-stepping away from travel for a half-a-second, this post is about my second favorite activity: writing. I stumbled upon this girl’s blog a while back and found it fascinating. In it, she outlines the strengths and weaknesses of various personality types as they relate to people’s ability to write. If you don’t know your Myers-Briggs personality type, you’ll have to take the test first (a shortened version is available online for free). You can view a complete list of all 16 ‘writer’ personality types on her website, but I’ve included a few interesting ones below.

INFP Writing Personality

From the blog:

“Work best in a quiet environment where they won’t be interrupted. They like autonomy so they can perfect their writing according to their own high standards without having to follow someone else’s schedule.

Prefer writing about personal topics. You may lose your creative drive if the subject isn’t meaningful to you. If so, try taking an angle that allows you to write about your feelings on the topic. If you’re an INFP technical writer, look for ways to connect with readers by anticipating and meeting their needs.”

Famous INFP writers: Shakespeare, Yeats, Emily Bronte, JRR Tolkein, Amy Tan

ISFP Writing Personality

From the blog:

“ISFP writers are acutely aware of the sensations in their physical world. They are adept at conveying the feelings associated with texture, color, and sound. ISFPs want to connect with their audience on a personal level and can have difficulty writing if unsure of the audience’s expectations. Their focus on others is so strong that they may hesitate to express their own deeply held beliefs. But if they learn to trust their voice, they can communicate their gifts of quiet joy and keen perceptions to their readers.”

Famous ISFP writers: Eminem

ENFP Writing Personality

From the blog:

“ENFP writers are creative souls with an ear for language. They find abundant inspiration in the world around them. But they can lose steam quickly if the topic is dull, which can lead to procrastination and missed deadlines. If you’re an ENFP, you’ll likely find that talking about the topic with others can help you maintain your interest and discover new approaches. Too much isolation can make writing a chore.

Famous ENFP writers: Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Dr. Seuss

Help! I Was Born in the Wrong Country!

Reannon Muth — Sat, 20 Nov 2010 23:05:01 +0000

Flag Girl by Brittany Randolf

”The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”
– Maya Angelou

Since I wrote that post about personality types and their corresponding countries, a lot of you have found this site through google-searching “Where in the world do I belong?” or “My country doesn’t match my personality type.”

Apparently, there are quite a number of you who feel as though the stork got lost while on his way to say, Fiji and dropped you off in Finland or France or Fallujah instead. Well, that sucks. And I hear ya. I’ve often wondered if a country like Spain (with it’s siestas and 36-day of yearly paid vacation time) wouldn’t perhaps have been a better cultural fit for my vagabond ways than my motherland (Land of the Free, Home of the Work-Enslaved).

The author of the book Geography of Bliss: One Grumps Search for the Happiest Places in the World, Eric Weiner, has a term for this. He refers to people who’ve found a better cultural fit in a country other than their birth-place, ‘hedonic refugees’. As he explains, hedonic refugees are “not political refugees, escaping a repressive regime, nor economic refugees, crossing a border in search of a better-paying job. They are hedonic refugees, moving to a new land, a new culture, because they are happier there. Usually, hedonic refugees have an epiphany, a moment of great clarity when they realize, beyond a doubt, that they were born in the wrong country.”

For me, that epiphany came when I was 15. I’d just returned from spending a summer studying abroad in Chiba, Japan and although I knew that Japan wasn’t where I was meant to spend the rest of my life, I knew without a doubt that the US wasn’t either. While my peers were busy plotting what they’d wear to prom, I was in the school library pouring over the encyclopedia and plotting future trips to Paris and Peru. ‘Operation: Move Abroad and Live Happily Ever After’ was in full-swing and now, 30 countries and 13 years later, it’s nowhere near completion. I still haven’t found a country to call ’home’ and I’m beginning to think that I never will. Which, perhaps, at least according to Eric Weiner, isn’t such a bad thing.

“What to do with this information?” He asks after detailing the phenomenon of ‘cultural fit’. “Should we administer cultural-compatibility tests to high school students, the way we used to test for career compatibility? I can imagine the phone call from the school guidance counselor. “Hi, Mrs. Williams, we’ve tested little Johnnie and determined that he would fit in perfectly in Albania. He’d really be much happier there. A flight leaves at 7:00 p.m. Should I go ahead and make that booking for you?

Of course not. Just because the culture fits doesn’t mean we should wear it, and, besides, every society needs its cultural misfits. It is these people – those who are partially though not completely alienated from their own culture – who produce great art and science. Einstein, a German Jew, was a cultural misfit. We all benefit from Einstein’s work…”

He has a point. I imagine that if I ever did manage to find a country filled with people identical in personality to me, I probably wouldn’t want to live there. If such a country existed, I’d imagine that it probably wouldn’t fare too well for the simple fact that there’d never be anyone there to run-it. At any given time, half of the country’s population would probably be sitting in a park somewhere in London or Los Angeles and on every restaurant or storefront window would read the sign: “Gone on a vacation break. Be back in 5-10 days”.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that you could devote your entire life to traveling the world to find that soul-mate of cities or that country you were destined to spend happily ever after with and maybe you’ll luck out and find it. Author David Sedaris (an American in Paris) did. As did Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Madonna, Johnny Depp, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Pamela Anderson.

Or…

You could save yourself the trouble and devote your energy to learning to love the country you’re in. Embrace your outsider status. And let that freak flag fly.

For more information on hedonic refugees, read an interview with Eric Weiner on World Hum.

Creativity: Where does it come from?

Reannon Muth — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 02:40:15 +0000

I watched this 19-minute speech by Elizabeth Gilbert (author of Eat Pray Love) the other night and loved the little anecdote she gave about creative inspiration. I’ve included a transcript of it below, but you should also watch the whole clip. Her speech about ‘nurturing creativity’ is honest and spot-on.

Here’s the exert:

“I met the extraordinary American poet Ruth Stone, who’s now in her 90s, but she’s been a poet her entire life and she told me that when she was growing up in rural Virginia, she would be out working in the fields, and she said she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape. And she said it was like a thunderous train of air. And it would come barreling down at her over the landscape. And she felt it coming, because it would shake the earth under her feet.

She knew that she had only one thing to do at that point, and that was to, in her words, “run like hell.” And she would run like hell to the house and she would be getting chased by this poem, and the whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper and a pencil fast enough so that when it thundered through her, she could collect it and grab it on the page.

And other times she wouldn’t be fast enough, so she’d be running and running and running, and she wouldn’t get to the house and the poem would barrel through her and she would miss it and she said it would continue on across the landscape, looking, as she put it “for another poet.” ”

I could relate to this, especially that last line about the poem looking “for another poet.”

About three years ago, I had an idea for a young-adult novel. I was working at a bookstore in New York at the time, when Alanis Morissette’s famous break-up song “You Oughta Know” came on the stereo. I remember being struck with this idea to write a novel about a 16-year-old girl whose ex-boyfriend records a break-up song about her. What might it be like to get into your car, turn on the radio and hear your ex-boyfriend’s voice singing about the intimate details of your relationship? I wondered. I felt the idea swelling up in me like a balloon. And I had this intense urge to get it down on paper before it burst and disappeared.

Well, although I did get the idea down on paper and thought about it often over the next few years, I never did much with it. Then a few months ago, I was in Barnes and Noble when I saw it. My book! It was called Audrey, Wait! and here’s the School Library Journal’s recap of the plot: “When 16-year-old Audrey decides to dump her band-singer boyfriend, she has no idea that he will go on to write a chart-topping song about their break-up.”

I actually read the book and it’s good. It’s funny and clever and perfect in every way except for the fact that the name on the cover is Robin and not Reannon. And get this, this Robin girl (a first-time novelist) worked in a bookstore and was inspired to write the novel while listening to a break-up song.

Coincidence? Probably. But I prefer to think when I failed to listen to my muse, she gave up and pawned the great book idea off to someone else.

Where do you think creativity comes from? And how does the creative process work for you? Do your creative ideas come to you suddenly like lightning bolts? Or is it more of a gradual process that you have to work at (like it is for Elizabeth Gilbert)?

Living abroad makes you more creative…But what happens after you return home?

Reannon Muth — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 19:15:00 +0000

“The world is but a canvas to the imagination.” — Henry David Thoreau

Lately I’ve been felt so uninspired…so stuck. It seems that every time I settle down in front of my computer with a cup of coffee and the resolution to work write something (anything!), I just end up spending the entire afternoon watching the screen cursor go blink, blink, blink as my mind mutinously continues to go blank, blank, blank. It’s so frustrating! And I’ve tried all of the usual remedies, (reading, napping, going for a walk) but to no avail. It’s like my well of creativity has dried up. And even though I know that’s a horribly cliched comparison, it’s all my uninventive brain can come up at the moment.

This was never a problem when I lived in Japan. Or in Austria or Germany either, for that matter. No, when I lived abroad, my mind seemed to be overflowing with an endless surplus of creative ideas. And not just ones that involved stories or blog posts either, but business ideas and art projects as well. My closet is stacked with notebooks outlining plans for the coffee shop I’d one day open or the design ideas for the youth hostel I’d eventually own. In Japan, I’d stay up late into the night painting and spend my weekends sitting in cafes knitting handbags for friends. But back at home in America, I spend most nights watching Project Runway; dazed and unmotivated.

Apparently though, it’s not just me. Artists and writers have long been known to do some of their best work while living abroad. Just look at the Spanish painter Pablo Picasso, who lived in Paris for most of his adult life, or Ernest Hemingway who was inspired to write The Sun Also Rises during after a trip to Spain. Irishman W.B. Yeats won the Nobel prize for the poetry he wrote while living abroad, as did Seamus Heany. And the Russian novelist Vladimir Nabokov, wrote Lolita while living in Manhattan.

Researchers William W. Maddux (INSEAD) and Adam D. Galinsky (Nortwestern University) attribute this to the psychological change one undergoes when adapting to a foreign culture. Learning a new language and struggling through culture shock cause a shift in perspective, which opens the mind to new ideas and sparks creativity. As explained in Cultural Borders and Mental Barriers:
The Relationship Between Living Abroad and Creativity, not only are people who live abroad more creative than people who don’t, but the longer they remain abroad, the more creative they become.

Interestingly enough though, the increase in creativity doesn’t occur in those merely traveling abroad. Apparently, two weeks in Tahiti does not a Picasso make. You’ve actually got to live in another culture for an extended period of time, learn the language, embrace the customs and make an effort to assimilate in order for the change to happen. In other words, a year spent exploring the inside of the local Expat bar doesn’t count.

So what’s an uninspired writer/artist/composer to do? Country hopping every few years in search of inspiration may work for some, but most of us need a little more stability and structure in order to stay sane.

Well apparently the simple act of recalling time spent living abroad helps reactivate the experience and keeps the creative juices flowing. As does learning a new language, making foreign friends and living in multi-cultural cities within your own country.

Huh. It’s hard to imagine how reminiscing about my life in Japan could possibly begin to compete with the experience of actually living there. But for now, I guess, that’s all I’ve got. Although I want (need!) to finish this novel I’ve been working on since, like, forever and a half ago and right now I’m thinking that another long stint abroad might be my only hope.

Watch this interview with one of the researchers. I found this on Miss Move Abroad’s blog, (which is also worth a visit, by the way). It’s fascinating.

Are you a Risk Taker?

Reannon Muth — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:48:00 +0000

According to Oprah Magazine, a spontaneous, risk-taking personality type is:

“Action oriented, curious, outgoing and lives for new experiences. You are drawn to risk-taking and aren’t afraid to fail. Generally restless, you tend to job-hop or choose a field that offers constant novelty.”

When I first stumbled across this in an article entitled “Who are you meant to be?” in this month’s O magazine, I was floored. That last sentence completely stopped me in my tracks. It was like Wait a second. You mean to tell me that not only is my one-of-a-kind personality actually one of seven personality types but there are others like me out there, too?

I was simultaneously relieved to learn that I wasn’t alone and dumbfounded that my unique, complicated and wholly incomprehensible inner motivations could be summed up so easily into three paragraphs. Apparently I’m not as original as I thought.

Curious, I started to research the risk-taking personality type and apparently not only is there a sub-species of risk-taking types walking (or free-falling, paragliding, rock climbing) the planet as I type, but they’ve been doing so since our ancestors first dared to venture out of the safety of their caves 100,000 years ago.

Photo courtesy of Science Daily

I can just imagine what my tribal role in life would’ve been back then. I’d probably be “Chief Food Taster”, as in, “Here, try this weird looking plant and tell me if tastes poisonous, mmmkay?” or possibly “Chief Sketchy-Looking Cave Explorer”, as in “Hey, do me a favor and scope out yonder cave for saber tooth tigers, will ya?”

For obvious reasons, the risk-takers of yore didn’t live very long. But as Salvadore Maddi of the University of California-Davis pointed out, “It’s better for one person to eat a poisonous fruit than for everybody,” so they served a vital role in the evolution of mankind. And traces of that adventurous trait is still evident in people today.

Because apparently risk-taking is not only a personality trait but an inherited one. It’s called the “high-risk gene” and through twin-studies, scientists have discovered that it’s 60 percent genetic.

Which explains so much. It explains why, for example, although completely different an every other way, my brothers and I all share the same impulsive, irrational desire to repeatedly throw ourselves in harms way. Our methods may be different (they do it through cliff jumping, sky-diving, motor-cross racing and high stakes gambling and I do it through travel), but the driving force is the same. We hail from a long-line of risk-takers, starting with our unconventional, hippie, Harley Davidson-riding parents and going back to our great-grandparents who immigrated to the US 100 years ago.

The fact though that modern society has evolved in a way that we no longer need to spend our days hunting buffalo or outruning rhinos, makes some scientists wonder if the risk-taking gene has become obsolete. Or at worst, harmful.

Because the same gene that motivates high-risk personalities to bungee jump or move to Mongolia, also makes them prone to stranger sex, drug abuse, reckless driving and crime.As Maddi put it, healthy, well-adjusted people are “good at turning every day experiences into something interesting. My guess is that the safe-cracker and the mountain climber can’t do that as well. They have to do something exciting to get a sense of vitality. It’s the only way they have of getting away from the sense that life sucks.”

He went on to say that high-risk takers “have a hard time deriving meaning and purpose from every day life.” A psychologist from the university of Michigan, Randy Larsen, even went as far to state that risk-takers are “a little sociopathic”.

Watching this video of people base-jumping off of cliffs superman style certainly makes me think that he may have a point. A very small one, but still. What do you think? Are risk-takers an inspiration to society or a hindrance?

Wanna read more? Check out:

Risk by Paul Roberts, Psychology Today.

Are you a Risk Taker? by Marvin Zuckerman, Psychology Today.