Engage

My twin grandchildren give me endless observations to log into my mental journal. The other day I found my hand holding back the edge of a grate over the fireplace. H. had found the crack and continuously pulled it open. I was resolute. I glanced over at B. and found his eyes glued to his sister's actions. The twin magic is that they read each other. They know what the other one is trying to do. When H. tired of my blocking her moves she crawled away and within a minute B. was there investigating the same opening.

I want a twin artist friend. She would be calling me and asking with excitement about our creative adventure today. Our art supplies would be side by side. (Perhaps I don't yet share well). Our writing would be bounced back and forth for honest assessment. She would be kind but firm in keeping me focused and trying new things. I would gush over her brilliance but warn her about complacency. 

but….

I don't have an artist twin. I do however have cousins. You know who you are. You are the generous people who comment on my blog. Did I tell you how excellent you are at connecting with me. I appreciate your very existence. It keeps the loneliness from making me immobile. Deep appreciation to those, like Kate Motaung, and others for creating a space to share and learn.  Writing can be lonely, painting in my studio and even playing the piano can be lonely. Yet, it is the very language that can communicate and connect us together.

  "Use loneliness. It's ache creates urgency to reconnect with the world. Take that aching and use it to propel you deeper onto your need for expression-to speak. to say who you are and how you care about light and rooms and lullabies."
                        Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg

   I am joining fellow writers on Kate Motaung's blog who are doing a bi-weekly online discussion group.We are using On Being a Writer: 12 Simple Habits For A Writing Life That Lasts by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. I am personally reading Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg as inspiration.

Same as…...

   This is the same as…. I am in a snow storm and I am going to die.

I was crouched into the space with my feet. My eyes were closed tight, heart racing, sweat starting at the base of my neck. My husband was driving and five kids were in the back of the car. The last time my eyes were open we were on a road with a hillside on my right and a drop of one hundred feet on the left side of the car. A snowstorm was raging outside and visibility was low. I was preparing to die.

   Today all snowstorms bring on the same physical feelings. It is trauma. It is a story I tell without rationale or logic. I have other stories with which I rumble. The swamp of my emotions is dark and sticky. I go in with armor which I realize will not protect me but,….the swamp holds redemption. There is one who will meet me there.

"The spirit speaketh the truth and lieth not. Wherefore, it speaketh of things as they really are, and of things as they really will be. 
    Jacob 4:13

Discover

          How I Turned From A City Mouse To A Country Mouse

    Sirens wail, cars move over into the right lane, and life is in full throttle on California Avenue. My 

weekly visit to the city is hectic at 7:30 in the morning. Every Thursday I see my grandchildren.  But my first stop is to snag a table at the bakery, a little indulgence that I call an artist date. The 

display cases are full this morning. One by one the customers come in, rub their chins in bewilderment 

while wondering what delight they will order. Paper coffee cups pressed to their lips they converse 

in two word sentences. The words, "morning" and "hurry" escape from quiet conversations. If I lived 

in the condos above the bakery I think I might be here every day. But, I am not a city mouse. I arrived here by ferry, forty minutes over the water. I came to spend a few minutes observing and writing. I'll only be able to stay a while because the space is getting crowded and new customers are eyeing my table wondering if I will be leaving soon. I will.

 

"Goodbye", said the country mouse. "You do indeed live in a plentiful city, but I am going home, where I can enjoy my dinner in peace."

   At home I might be sitting in the garden, listening to an persistent bird wail. My company could be a

deer and her twin fawns. They are much too tame, hardly turning their heads when I come

into the yard. Traffic does pass by but it is predictable and often coincides with the ferry schedule. 

There are long pauses when everything is still. Breakfast goodies are limited here on this island. My 

favorite spot does not open until 9:00am and is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays because they believe 

in days off. I always think of going on Monday. 

    When we first moved to the island the dark at night was fierce. The pitch black was so quiet and vastly different than the city. It took some adjustments. Now I wonder if I could ever get used to hundreds of people living around me. I can name the people on my street and tell you what they do during the day. 

Acres of land separate us from neighbors, giving us the feeling of living in the woods. What we lack in neighbors is made up for in the creature visitors. They can be irritating and sometimes downright trouble. Raccoons, squirrels, mice, hawks, an eagle now and then, and yes, unfortunately, rats. Ignoring the issues associated with pests is what I do best and sometimes they provide comedic relief to a busy day.

Why did we move to an island?  Because it seemed adventurous. We had friends who came a year earlier and we visited often. My first ferry ride had me sweating. Would I hit another car driving on the boat so close together? What if the boat went down? Do the boats come and go all day and night? What if I need to leave and there is no boat running? What about a Tsunami? Now Idays I forget entirely that I am surrounded by water. I like to drive by the water's edge to remind myself that I chose to live in a most beautiful place.

I am a country mouse who visits the city and writing about the decision to make the change from city life helps me appreciate what I have. I do feel grateful for my present circumstances.

"Learn to write about the ordinary. Give homage to old coffee cups, sparrows, city buses, thin ham sandwiches. Make a list of everything ordinary you can think of. Keep adding to it. Promise yourself before you leave the earth, to mention everything on your list at least once in a poem, short story, newspaper article."

Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg

I am joining fellow writers on Kate Motaung's blog who are doing a bi-weekly online discussion group.We are using On Being a Writer: 12 Simple Habits For A Writing Life That Lasts by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. I am personally reading Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg as inspiration.

Promote

  I know little about the mechanics of promotion but I can tell you somewhat of the spirit. 

Let me begin with a recent experience. Friday I had my first Instagram meet-up with Patty Waite. I traveled two hours on a gorgeous highway, along water and through densely populated trees to meet her at a restaurant which was showing her artwork. The next day she was opening her show with an reception for the general public. We talked about sharing our work. I really don't remember using the word promote but she has done it often. 

     Connecting with other artists in groups and classes has given her knowledge and a venue for promotion. Nourish, the restaurant where her work is currently hanging, heard of her because she brought her work to them and asked if they would like to feature her.

She stood with her work. She acknowledged that she felt it was good. And it does speak to me. That is why I follow her on Instagram. Her work has heart and speaks to my heart.

"We are good and therefore we are capable of shining forth through our resistance to write well and claim it as our own. It is not as important for the world to claim it as it is to claim it for ourselves. That is the essential step. That will make us content. We are good and when out work is good, it is good. We should acknowledge it and stand behind it."

    Writing Down The Bones- Natalie Goldberg  

Putting our work in front of others is terrifying. There we are, unfinished, flawed, and vulnerable, saying read my words, look at my images, but we do. We do because we are wired to make connections with others. 

" Connection is the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued, when they can give and receive without judgement, and when they derive sustenance and strength  from the relationship."

Brené Brown

   The critics in the world of artistic expression are loud and brutal. Why would I want to show myself in that world? I recently read a piece online by someone whose named I've blocked out of my mind, who made the case that in a world where everyone can publish, show, and promote their art the quality and real talent drastically plummets to the ground. My instinctual first thought was, "they don't make art." They don't get that the writing or painting process changes us from spectators in our lives to being fully engaged.

  My artwork has been on local gallery walls. I have talked to people about what I've made, first in hushed tones but then a little bolder. I write because I get energized and excited. I paint because I love color and the magic of seeing the synthesis of canvas, paper, and paint come to life. There will always be performance anxiety but if I don't try I may miss out on being healed. I mean healed in a wholehearted way but I also mean the healing that comes from my a divine source. Christ turned towards those that risked exposure. Like the woman who touched his hem, Or the brave sister who asked to wash his feet in a public setting when she was shamed. 

                        Being healed requires a new posture of the heart.

   We need a heart that is willing to turn away from ourselves to promote our work with love. Not everyone will like our writing. Not everyone will see something uplifting in our painting but there may be one who feels stronger because they connected to the heart you revealed and deemed it good.

 I am joining fellow writers on Kate Motaung's blog who are doing a bi-weekly online discussion group.We are using On Being a Writer: 12 Simple Habits For A Writing Life That Lasts by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. I am personally reading Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg as inspiration. 

Yes

    So many things in my life say "yes". Yes, you are free to be slayed by the beauty in front of you, the beauty that lives around you. 

    Yes, the gourmet salad on your table is yours to relish. It has a short shelf life and a short season but here it is, for you to enjoy.

   In the back of my mind I remember the refugees fleeing across Europe. Waiting in lines, camping on floors with all they possess. Refugees are familiar to me and I have a compassion for them due to my family history. My family was forced to leave their home some sixty five years ago. I was nor yet born but I have heard the story all my life.

These are the words of my brother;

"The inevitable departure from Hirschberg in 1945 required a lot of careful planning by my parents. What would our destination be? How would we be transported? Would we have sufficient food and clothing for whatever the length of the journey would be? Since there were multiple checkpoints along the way, would we all be allowed to pass? What about our relatives, could they go with us, and if not, would they be safe? Would we ever see them again? "

These refugees will hear "no" many times before they find a new home.

Send

 I am joining fellow writers on Kate Motaung's blog who are doing a bi-weekly online discussion group.We are using On Being a Writer: 12 Simple Habits For A Writing Life That Lasts by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. I am personally reading Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg for inspiration.    

     I have two submission ideas. I am capable of finishing them but I am wary.  It feels like I am guarding my time carefully. They will both require chunks of space in my life. If I finish them I believe I will send them. Here is where the desire to share pops up. If I tell someone about these projects will  that make me more accountable? Is it too early to share?  I believe it is time to send my friends a letter. 
                     

                           Letter To Fear And Curiosity
         
Dear Lifelong Friends,
    I so appreciate the letters you both wrote. I am trying to feel gratitude for both of you. Please do not be offended if I tell you that you haunt my life. Fear, I have the upmost respect for your intensity and commitment. Curiosity, I find you indispensable to my creative pursuits. However, I intend to make some boundaries that I will not let you cross. 
     You can make my palms sweat and my heart race but, Fear, you may not intimidate me or bully me. When you do I will shut you out and the supposed reality you want to save me from will fall on deaf ears. I keep you around because you have saved me from some, a few, mistakes. Please take note.
    I will need to keep you in check also, Curiosity. Practical thinking is  not your strong suit. May I suggest you develop some time sensitivity. Brainstorming with you is wonderful but when I work, stay back.
    Again, thank-you for the special effects you entertain. Understand that my boundaries are serious.
        With love,
         ME

              Curiosity has no stake in the real world
                                 Elizabeth Gilbert
             

Fear makes the stakes really high

Elizabeth Gilbert

A Letter From Curiosity

    Curiosity is my flaky friend. She is beautiful and creative and such a fun date. But,….she is a bit flaky. My creative self needs her by my side but I have to reign her in and show her my strong boundaries. She is often miffed at our relationship.

                                    Letter from Curiosity

Hello Adventurer,

    Boy, I have got some great ideas for you. Don't you want to know what I just figured out? Is this a good time to bother you? Sure it is! Showing you the next great thing since hot pockets is important. Speaking of hot pockets, I wonder what is for lunch? You have been writing a long time so take a break. Do you want to see in my backpack? What is in yours? Whoa! New markers! I wonder what they are like. Shall we make a drawing for your blog? Who else uses photos on their blogs. Let's look! Wow! She has nice photos. I wonder if she takes photography class. That might be fun. What? Get lost? You are writing? What is up with that? Please, please stay with me.

   You disappoint me,

   CURIOSITY 

                  "Curiosity has no stake in the real world."

                                        Elizabeth Gilbert