Bloom and grow, bloom and grow

The Sunflower Center puts its heart into its seedlings

(The following appeared in the February 2007 issue of the Tributary magazine, except for the secret parenthetical paragraph that was edited out.)

By Ray Sikorski

“There’s a reason why I chose Sunflower as the name,” said Dean Williamson, founder and director of the Sunflower Center for the Arts. “If you think about a sunflower, it sort of picks the sun, finds its source of energy and life, and follows that. And they look really wispy but they’re actually really strong, and they’ve got interrelated roots underneath the ground…”

This was all fine and good, but my assignment was not merely to report on the new creative writing center in town. Being the February issue of the Tributary, my editor had asked me to try to tie it all in with love.

I looked Williamson in the eye. “Are you in love with sunflowers?”

“I’m in love with sunflowers,” he confessed.

Now we were getting somewhere.

Williamson explained that the Sunflower Center opened in August 2006, offering workshops in poetry, fiction, script, and creative non-fiction. It also has begun a speaker series, in which successful artists are brought into conversation with members of the community. So far potter Josh DeWeese and Equinox Theatre co-founder Katie Goodman have been featured speakers.

“What we’re trying to do is send the ripple out and hopefully inspire more people to be more creative,” Williamson said.

That same ethic is what guides Williamson, a playwright who has taught English at MSU and Bozeman High, in leading the writing workshops.

“There’s nobody bringing along the next generation of David Quammens and Tom McGuanes and Pete Fromms,” he said.

“There’s a rich history here. What I’m fearful of is there’s nobody here to take their places.”

The workshops, which meet on the comfy red couches of the Sunflower office in the Emerson Cultural Center, take place one evening a week over the course of seven weeks. Writers submit poems, stories, or articles prior to each session, to which the others in the group offer constructive criticisms within the secure confines of the room.

The process, Williamson admitted (with a minimum of prodding), is a bit like love.

“I think this whole creative process is one of love and compassion, and trying to nurture something along that tends to be pretty delicate,” he said. “Imagination and creative stuff, these are beautiful things. But they also need to be tended to.”
Williamson wasn’t sure exactly what the future holds for the center, which as of yet remains a solo operation. (While he often used “we” to describe the center’s goings-on, Williamson explained that it’s the “royal” we.) He mentioned the possibility of a spoken-word series, a songwriting workshop, a publication, or even a film incubator, which would help screenwriters turn their scripts into movies.

“I’m purposely leaving a lot of spontaneity in the way this is playing out,” he said. “I like the idea of setting it in motion and sort of watching it unroll and seeing what happens, and not trying to necessarily know everything that’s gonna happen.”

“Is that like love?” I asked.

“I suppose,” he said. “If we must make it like love.”

Yes, we must!

(Note: Although Williamson would not reveal his relationship status in print, at one point in the interview the tall, dark, and handsome 39-year-old did blurt out his astrological sign. “I’m an Aquarius to a T,” he said, explaining that that means creative and spontaneous and also possessing a certain airiness. “Some people would call us flaky. I would choose, ‘interested in a lot of different things at the same time.’ Multi-interests.” He rattled off some of his interests: skiing, kayaking, canoeing, backpacking… “All the good stuff.”)

Williamson’s nurturing of his sprouts has already rendered results. Although the program is still in its infancy, already four of his students have had submissions that had been critiqued in the workshops published in literary journals and magazines.

“Part of the responsibility of the writers here is that they send stuff out for publication,” he said, explaining that he sees a national trend that’s antagonistic to the arts and free expression. “I think the stakes are way too high right now not to be contributing to the cultural dialogue.”

Although he uses his aesthetically crafted SunflowerCenter.org website as a tool, Williamson said he believes the Internet, and its hordes of lonely bloggers tapping at keyboards in darkened rooms, is detracting from the natural interaction of humanity.

“I still firmly believe in people sitting in the same room talking about writing. I still firmly believe in artists sitting in the same room talking about their creative processes. Because a lot happens in community,” he said. He added that conversing face-to-face is part of the idea behind the speaker’s series, as well as the workshops.

“There’s nothing that can replace human-to-human contact,” he said. Then, after thinking about it, added, “That’s kind of lovey. Isn’t it? Maybe that’s good enough for love.”


Ray Sikorski’s astrological sign is Cancer, which means he sits alone in his basement typing away at his blog: raysikorski.blogspot.com.