We recently connected with Kathy Curto and have shared our conversation below.

Kathy, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Can you share a story about the kindest thing someone has done for you and why it mattered so much or was so meaningful to you?

I suppose if I find it impossible to narrow my answer down to one person and one kind thing, then I guess that’s a good problem to have. “A pretty lovely state of affairs,” one might say. In other words, in terms of my life as a writer and a maker, there is not one thing or one individual I can single out here. There have been many mentors, colleagues, classmates, students and comrades in artistic spaces who have been kind. And then some! There have also been people on the street, in subways, on hiking trails, at loud protests and in silent libraries who have offered something kind to me, whether they knew it at the time is another story. And the big love my family dishes on the daily–that sustains me as a creative person and keeps my inner, outer and somewhere-in-the-middle lives alive and kicking.

But if specificity is what you are after here, I can speak to an impulse that some readers, students and all-around cool, curious folks have that has great meaning and has nourished me as a writer. It’s the people who who carve out time in their everyday lives to let me know that something I wrote lingered. That it made them think, feel and wonder. That they were touched, moved, maybe even confused, but want to talk about that confusion. Whatever the reaction, whatever the takeaway, it is the desire to connect and stretch the lingering that matters to me. And, yes, that I believe to be kind.

I received an email from a student a year or so ago. This was long after the class she had taken with me ended. She wanted to let me know that something we talked about in that course and specifically something I had written in the margin on one of her essays swirled back into her orbit and she remembered. It made her think, feel, wonder.

Then there was the woman in my town who sent a written note to me after I did a book talk, locally. She wanted to let me know that she, too, experienced growing up with addiction in the family. I live in a small town and had seen this woman many, many times before but, after that note, our encounters were different. She made me think, feel, wonder.

Then, the young woman who read a piece I wrote in the New York Times and contacted me through LinkedIn, wanting to let me know she felt a connection and appreciated the parallels in our paths. (Postscript: that was several years ago and we met up–yet again– for dinner last week!) I left the restaurant, caught the train back home and let the gratitude I felt wash over me–if she had not reached out however many years ago, there would be less thinking, feeling and wondering.

I am grateful to those who use their time–and all its preciousness–to make a connection, one that may very well grow into more letter writing, more knowing glances at the grocery store and way more fun dinner dates.

Kathy, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

My artistic practice has three parts-one part exhilarating, one mysterious and one necessary. The professional and creative work I do, coupled with an everyday instinct to dig deep into the world (observe, listen, stay curious, wonder), sharpen my writing and teaching skills, cultivate strong communities of support and crystallize some of my primary intentions as an artist: stay exhilarated by the human condition-locally and globally, respect the mystery, recognize the need to document. And honor the art as well as the great value in crafting and sharing life stories.

I do my best work when I listen closely to those in my orbit (including myself) and pay sharp attention to where I want to take the work. I try to be a fair and keen noticer and couple that intent with the natural desire to shine a brighter light onto the contrasting realities of the everyday.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

I recognize that there are certainly people who would define themselves as non-creatives but I do think everyone has the capacity to be creative. To create. To innovate. To design. A lot, of course, depends on context, setting and desire. What matters is not so much the label or what we call the act of creating, but rather how it is experienced by self and other.

I guess any insight I have in this area is related to three things: being open to interdisciplinary methods and approaches, having faith in your ideas even when they are not easily defined or measured and, finally, recognizing that art can be a transformative offering, but that depends on how we receive it.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

Being a writer means that every single day I have a chance to make meaning–to explore, to excavate, to create from material or memories, for the first time or the thousandth time–with words.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.kathycurto.com/
• Instagram: @kathy.curto
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kathy.curto26
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kathycurto/