Time off can be a wonderful thing even if it's forced. It can be a tricky thing for me if I don't have something planned. I needed to take the last two days off work since I had filled my vacation bank to the max. It accumulates hours each month and I would have lost time if I hadn't taken them. But I had nothing planned! I could have planned something but my sub-conscience must have taken over and knew I needed the down time. The do-nothing time. (Is there such a thing with me?-not so sure). I think I knew in the back, far-reaches of my mind that I would use the time to write. Well, I guess I am but not before I started fiddling with the layout of my blog.
Did you even notice? The changes are pretty subtle. I didn't make too many changes but I knew I wanted to brighten the look a bit. My first layout was almost the same but I had chosen some fairly dark colors. That's were I was at the time. Lately, something kept telling me I needed to freshen it up. I edited words out of my header and added some visual to the top right hand side. I took these pictures myself and the index cards are all for real. They are notes from thoughts I have written up and already posted.
The picture under that is my own personal paradise. I took the shot early one morning and it represents my own version of peace. It is a place I have gone to get away, clear my head, put things in order, ran my longest distance race, and a place I allow myself to do nothing without a thought or care. I am making it sound romantic and it isn't. It's a small coastal fishing village of a town I have gone to for over 20 years. It has become comfortable and comforting and just close enough to escape to when I am about to go over the edge or when I just need time away. So I had to include it.
I have started my few days off to a good start. I only have one appointment I need to keep and everything else is up to me. It's nice to realize I have these options when I need them or when I am forced into them. Okay, so forced is more accurate for how I got the option in the first place but I have managed quite well so far, if I say so myself.
Like I said...time off is a wonderful thing. It gives me time to get the things I have already thought about into perspective. And more importantly, time for me to put them into motion.
TT
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Keep on keeping on
Now that I've reached this seemingly impossible milestone of one hundred posts I was getting worried about being able to continue. I've thought about this a few weeks ago about the same time I realized how fast I was approaching that marker. When I looked back I saw this month alone contributed to almost a third of my 100 posts. That is a lot of writing for me, every day. That is a lot of words for me while I bat myself silly about not being able to do it. It can get painful. I don't know that I can keep up that pace. I'm worried but I also need to acknowledge that there may be days when I don't get something posted. I don't think I want to admit that.
I want this momentum to keep up for a while. I like the way ideas seem to be rolling with me. I am happy about the way I have found a groove in my approach and the time I have spent getting these words down, re-arranging them and not being afraid to delete some things that seem right but aren't. I am not always sure I will have anything that will be worth posting. It goes one way or the other, doubts abounding, although lately it has been on a more positive path and I like where it has taken me. I have liked it a lot.
I can't predict it anyway. I can try to keep the fears at bay because they never seem logical to me except the moments when I first have them. I have gotten better at pushing back at that. It has proven to be worth the time I've spent putting words together and how I feel about it afterward.
The time factor could be another obstacle to get around. Even though I seem to have found this groove, I am still working on making adjustments since I am spending and wanting to spend more time writing. The problem comes when I don’t seem to always have the time. I seem to be trying to make time as much as possible but I was afraid I was driving myself because I was getting so close to the milestone number. I don’t know. I’m not convinced that was the case but it may have played at bit into it.
In any case, I am past that milestone now. I can’t look back if I want to go forward. I could, but why? What would I be looking for back there? I’ve never been too good with backward and ahead is where I see myself going.
I am going to keep moving forward for now.
TT
I want this momentum to keep up for a while. I like the way ideas seem to be rolling with me. I am happy about the way I have found a groove in my approach and the time I have spent getting these words down, re-arranging them and not being afraid to delete some things that seem right but aren't. I am not always sure I will have anything that will be worth posting. It goes one way or the other, doubts abounding, although lately it has been on a more positive path and I like where it has taken me. I have liked it a lot.
I can't predict it anyway. I can try to keep the fears at bay because they never seem logical to me except the moments when I first have them. I have gotten better at pushing back at that. It has proven to be worth the time I've spent putting words together and how I feel about it afterward.
The time factor could be another obstacle to get around. Even though I seem to have found this groove, I am still working on making adjustments since I am spending and wanting to spend more time writing. The problem comes when I don’t seem to always have the time. I seem to be trying to make time as much as possible but I was afraid I was driving myself because I was getting so close to the milestone number. I don’t know. I’m not convinced that was the case but it may have played at bit into it.
In any case, I am past that milestone now. I can’t look back if I want to go forward. I could, but why? What would I be looking for back there? I’ve never been too good with backward and ahead is where I see myself going.
I am going to keep moving forward for now.
TT
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
100 posts
Today, I have reached 100 posts to this blog. I have to say that it is something of a milestone for me. When I started this I knew I wanted to find a way to get myself to sit down, find the time and write a little. I wasn’t sure what I was going to write about. I didn’t have any definite expectations or concrete ideas. What I knew was that if I made myself responsible for posting something I’ve written, I would feel the need to accomplish that responsibility. I was using the blog as a tool to write because I knew if I committed myself to do it I would. I’ve always said I didn’t mind who read it, and I don’t (even the insanity), so it was more of a way for me to trick myself into doing something in a small way to get started on something I have been very much wanting to do.
Now I have reached 100 posts. It was a couple of weeks ago that I realized I had been churning out daily posts and the numbers were racking up. I also realized that it wasn’t just quantity but these more recent posts were of a slightly better quality than some of the older, quick; write something down posts from early on. I still need to work on trying to get a better perspective on myself and this particular thing I love to do. I’m working on trying to learn more about it and I’ve found that the rule of writing is actually correct. Write. It has to start that way. It seems like such a simple thing to do but I know how hard it can be. I know personally how hard I can make it for myself.
When I realized I would be hitting this milestone I was excited and mentioned it to Jay and the boys. I told them I had this idea that I should bake and decorate a cake and even post a picture of it on the blog. It was to be some sort of celebration. Jay thought the entire decorated cake idea was a little over the top, a little silly. He thought and even asked me, “for 100 posts? Maybe for 500 posts - 100 posts is more like a cupcake.”
A cupcake? Wow, thank you. You have to grin at that but then I’m thinking – 500 posts – I’ll never make it to the cake! But, of course, by then the boys caught the drift and they thought the cake was a little much, too, although they did like the idea of posting more pictures. I tried to make a point of it being a milestone for me...100 posts...and I haven't torn the site down yet! Well then…What about a cookie?
They agreed a cookie would be good or maybe a Klondike bar. What? Where did that come from? But I know they continued to poke at me because they could get a rise from me. They know when it's something important to me they can get me riled a bit. They know my voice will get higher and I’ll argue a point to the death. They will take sideways glances at each other and invisibly nod to each other when they know they got me. They will continue until they know I have worked myself into a little frenzy. They will do this to prove I’ve gotten myself worked into this state over a cake or a cookie and realize how silly it all is. We all understand that it's not the accomplishment they are ribbing me about. I also know I will have to sit calmly and stop talking in order to make them quit.
So cake is out for my milestone of 100 posts. They are not much for sweets anyway. They didn’t discount the work I’ve done or the difficulty it was for me to get here. They don’t always understand the fuss I make for things sometimes but they have read the posts and that, to me, is better than cake.
I am amazed at myself for reaching this point. I really am. Besides, I thought of a better way to celebrate my reaching 100 posts.
I don't think it would be too silly or over the top to celebrate my accomplishment this way instead. I think they would agree and raise a glass.
Saluto
TT
Now I have reached 100 posts. It was a couple of weeks ago that I realized I had been churning out daily posts and the numbers were racking up. I also realized that it wasn’t just quantity but these more recent posts were of a slightly better quality than some of the older, quick; write something down posts from early on. I still need to work on trying to get a better perspective on myself and this particular thing I love to do. I’m working on trying to learn more about it and I’ve found that the rule of writing is actually correct. Write. It has to start that way. It seems like such a simple thing to do but I know how hard it can be. I know personally how hard I can make it for myself.
When I realized I would be hitting this milestone I was excited and mentioned it to Jay and the boys. I told them I had this idea that I should bake and decorate a cake and even post a picture of it on the blog. It was to be some sort of celebration. Jay thought the entire decorated cake idea was a little over the top, a little silly. He thought and even asked me, “for 100 posts? Maybe for 500 posts - 100 posts is more like a cupcake.”
A cupcake? Wow, thank you. You have to grin at that but then I’m thinking – 500 posts – I’ll never make it to the cake! But, of course, by then the boys caught the drift and they thought the cake was a little much, too, although they did like the idea of posting more pictures. I tried to make a point of it being a milestone for me...100 posts...and I haven't torn the site down yet! Well then…What about a cookie?
They agreed a cookie would be good or maybe a Klondike bar. What? Where did that come from? But I know they continued to poke at me because they could get a rise from me. They know when it's something important to me they can get me riled a bit. They know my voice will get higher and I’ll argue a point to the death. They will take sideways glances at each other and invisibly nod to each other when they know they got me. They will continue until they know I have worked myself into a little frenzy. They will do this to prove I’ve gotten myself worked into this state over a cake or a cookie and realize how silly it all is. We all understand that it's not the accomplishment they are ribbing me about. I also know I will have to sit calmly and stop talking in order to make them quit.
So cake is out for my milestone of 100 posts. They are not much for sweets anyway. They didn’t discount the work I’ve done or the difficulty it was for me to get here. They don’t always understand the fuss I make for things sometimes but they have read the posts and that, to me, is better than cake.
I am amazed at myself for reaching this point. I really am. Besides, I thought of a better way to celebrate my reaching 100 posts.
I don't think it would be too silly or over the top to celebrate my accomplishment this way instead. I think they would agree and raise a glass.
Saluto
TT
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Good for the soul
I have a confession to make. I'm not sure exactly how to come out with it but it must be time to do it or I wouldn't be thinking about it now and for the last week or so. It's probably not as bad as you might assume but it's certainly something I'm not proud of having to admit. It's about food.
No, no. NO, stop. I don't have an eating disorder or anything close. Don't be thinking these crazy things. Only I am allowed to think the crazy things here or do the crazy things anyway. I've gotten good at doing crazy things. Ask anyone! Well, not anyone. They would have to know me. You would be crazy if you asked just anyone. Can you see them wrinkling their brow, lifting their eyebrow, scratching their head if you asked some stranger how good Tessa was at doing crazy things? Can you picture that? Can you? Really? You might be crazy or even crazier than me!
But I've side tracked. The fact is I know a bit about food. I know a bit about nutrition. I'm not an expert but it's an interest that I have broadened with knowledge. I know about and can make a lot of meals that are really good, mostly from scratch, that are also healthy. I also happen to like a lot of foods that are good for you and can incorporate them in everyday eating. I do this most of the time.
But I guess this is where the confession comes in. When I get tired (usually around the end of the week) I will skip the gym and come straight home. There are usually enough left over’s from the meal the night before to make do and not have to cook that evening. I get lazy and will be satisfied to eat whatever I can get my hands on. Last week Jay came home and agreed there were some good things he could eat later for dinner. Then he knowingly asked, "What about you. What did you eat?"
Dahn, dahn, daa...silence.
I look up. "Nothing."
He smiles, "Come on, what?"
"I'm fine. I didn't work out and I had a really big lunch today."
"Really. What did you eat when you got home?"
Silence.
He's persistent and he knows me. "What was it?"
"Okay, I really did have a big lunch."
"Right, but you ate something when you got home. What was it?" He's still smiling.
"Chocolate chips."
"What else?"
"I ate chocolate chips. Isn't that bad enough?" I asked.
"Yeah, but what else? I know there was something else."
"I ate dried cherries."
"That's not a very good dinner. You need to eat something better than that."
Then I just get stubborn and at that point - I'm not very hungry. "It's fine. I ate three quarters of the bag!" Maybe that wasn't such a good thing to admit.
"So you ate the stuff you make your cookies out of?"
Drat! I did! I ate the ingredients to my cherry, macadamia, white chocolate cookies. I guess I can say it was at least the healthier version. I didn’t eat any of the processed flour or shortening that would go into it. And I didn’t shove them into my mouth while standing over the sink. That’s never a pretty picture. So what if I do make a meal out of chocolate and cherries?
Well, we all know it’s wrong to make a meal out of cookie ingredients. That is where the confession comes in. I’m guilty. There are some days I can’t be trusted alone with simple cookie ingredients and I admit it. I will try hard not to do these types of things again but somehow I’ve got a feeling I will come home one day next week and have to finish off the bag of macadamia nuts I forgot!
What can I say? It just happens that way sometimes.
TT
No, no. NO, stop. I don't have an eating disorder or anything close. Don't be thinking these crazy things. Only I am allowed to think the crazy things here or do the crazy things anyway. I've gotten good at doing crazy things. Ask anyone! Well, not anyone. They would have to know me. You would be crazy if you asked just anyone. Can you see them wrinkling their brow, lifting their eyebrow, scratching their head if you asked some stranger how good Tessa was at doing crazy things? Can you picture that? Can you? Really? You might be crazy or even crazier than me!
But I've side tracked. The fact is I know a bit about food. I know a bit about nutrition. I'm not an expert but it's an interest that I have broadened with knowledge. I know about and can make a lot of meals that are really good, mostly from scratch, that are also healthy. I also happen to like a lot of foods that are good for you and can incorporate them in everyday eating. I do this most of the time.
But I guess this is where the confession comes in. When I get tired (usually around the end of the week) I will skip the gym and come straight home. There are usually enough left over’s from the meal the night before to make do and not have to cook that evening. I get lazy and will be satisfied to eat whatever I can get my hands on. Last week Jay came home and agreed there were some good things he could eat later for dinner. Then he knowingly asked, "What about you. What did you eat?"
Dahn, dahn, daa...silence.
I look up. "Nothing."
He smiles, "Come on, what?"
"I'm fine. I didn't work out and I had a really big lunch today."
"Really. What did you eat when you got home?"
Silence.
He's persistent and he knows me. "What was it?"
"Okay, I really did have a big lunch."
"Right, but you ate something when you got home. What was it?" He's still smiling.
"Chocolate chips."
"What else?"
"I ate chocolate chips. Isn't that bad enough?" I asked.
"Yeah, but what else? I know there was something else."
"I ate dried cherries."
"That's not a very good dinner. You need to eat something better than that."
Then I just get stubborn and at that point - I'm not very hungry. "It's fine. I ate three quarters of the bag!" Maybe that wasn't such a good thing to admit.
"So you ate the stuff you make your cookies out of?"
Drat! I did! I ate the ingredients to my cherry, macadamia, white chocolate cookies. I guess I can say it was at least the healthier version. I didn’t eat any of the processed flour or shortening that would go into it. And I didn’t shove them into my mouth while standing over the sink. That’s never a pretty picture. So what if I do make a meal out of chocolate and cherries?
Well, we all know it’s wrong to make a meal out of cookie ingredients. That is where the confession comes in. I’m guilty. There are some days I can’t be trusted alone with simple cookie ingredients and I admit it. I will try hard not to do these types of things again but somehow I’ve got a feeling I will come home one day next week and have to finish off the bag of macadamia nuts I forgot!
What can I say? It just happens that way sometimes.
TT
Monday, July 27, 2009
Reality check
I am finding myself getting a little annoyed with the book I have been reading about writing. Don't get me wrong, it has been so beneficial and has had some truly useful tools that I can use going forward with my writing. But, well, me being me, I am finding myself a little miffed when the author continues to reference the multitude of projects and ideas you should (or could) have going on at one time. These many ideas are the ones that are all neatly organized in a wonderful expanding folder. There also seems to be some annoyance generated when the author talks about goals and timelines that you should map out for the year! The year?!? Really! I am already panicked about my post for tomorrow. How could I handle figuring out the entire year? Give me a break!
The author talks about having these multiple projects going on at once. It seems obvious that you should have several completed novels circulating as this will increase your chances of being published. This author states that the time in-between (get this) your completed publishing deadline and your next submission should be spent to research the various ideas that are neatly filed in your expandable folder. Then at the beginning of this new week, you can begin the actual writing process and not have to interrupt yourself to look things up. Whoa! Hang on one minute here! Ummm, not to be rude but...Time?!? And how many things are complete and how many are in that folder?! I’m losing count here. But wait; excuse me...full time job...life. I can start writing at the beginning of the new week? I have all day, all week to write? Since when?
If anything this book has made me realize that there needs to be an understanding of reality here. Gee. There is probably nothing I would rather be spending all my time on than writing. I would be in some kind of paradise if I had time to be working on multiple projects and multiple story ideas. It would be heavenly if the only time management I needed to worry about was researching in-between my publishing deadlines! Wouldn't that mean that something I wrote was completed and accepted by, by, dare I say, a publisher? And I did this – when? In my sleep? It must have been, because I know I’ve been spending some capacity time writing the bits I have down now. I need to show up to my full time paying job all week and I don’t have the luxury of having nothing else to do but write and organize and research. What a wonderful land that must be. I didn’t see a disclosure before I bought this book that it should only be purchased by writers that have all the time in the world.
Reality is such a hard thing to deal with. The author of this book I am reading should be taken aside. There are some realities that should be explained to her.
Somehow, I don’t think I’m the right person for that job.
TT
The author talks about having these multiple projects going on at once. It seems obvious that you should have several completed novels circulating as this will increase your chances of being published. This author states that the time in-between (get this) your completed publishing deadline and your next submission should be spent to research the various ideas that are neatly filed in your expandable folder. Then at the beginning of this new week, you can begin the actual writing process and not have to interrupt yourself to look things up. Whoa! Hang on one minute here! Ummm, not to be rude but...Time?!? And how many things are complete and how many are in that folder?! I’m losing count here. But wait; excuse me...full time job...life. I can start writing at the beginning of the new week? I have all day, all week to write? Since when?
If anything this book has made me realize that there needs to be an understanding of reality here. Gee. There is probably nothing I would rather be spending all my time on than writing. I would be in some kind of paradise if I had time to be working on multiple projects and multiple story ideas. It would be heavenly if the only time management I needed to worry about was researching in-between my publishing deadlines! Wouldn't that mean that something I wrote was completed and accepted by, by, dare I say, a publisher? And I did this – when? In my sleep? It must have been, because I know I’ve been spending some capacity time writing the bits I have down now. I need to show up to my full time paying job all week and I don’t have the luxury of having nothing else to do but write and organize and research. What a wonderful land that must be. I didn’t see a disclosure before I bought this book that it should only be purchased by writers that have all the time in the world.
Reality is such a hard thing to deal with. The author of this book I am reading should be taken aside. There are some realities that should be explained to her.
Somehow, I don’t think I’m the right person for that job.
TT
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Sunday breakfast
This morning began like most Sundays with me getting up and doing five things or more before Jay ever gets up. That's okay, routine is good and I'm used to it. I almost prefer it. I had planned on making breakfast at home and by the time I started cooking, Jay was up and had almost finished reading the paper. I figured it would be okay to put on a Norah Jones album and I chose Feels like Home since it's quiet and mellow - well - pick any Norah Jones album and they will all be quiet and mellow but that's another post.
I went about fixing breakfast and about the time I served it up and we sat down to eat, a song came on called Toes. Perfect timing. We both looked up at each other and smiled. The first time we heard this song together Jay was having a tough time understanding the words. It is one of those songs where the real lyric sounds like another word that changes the meaning.
You know what I'm taking about. You've heard those songs. Come on, like - okay I'll start with a really old one. Blowing in the wind...it goes...the answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind; the answer is blowing in the wind. Remember that one? But it's been confused and sometimes sung as...the ants are my friends, they're blowing in the wind, the ants are blowing in the wind. Another one of these confused songs is, of course, the ever popular - Bad moon on the rise. You know that one too and no, it’s not bathroom on the right, although it really sounds like it. So you understand what was going on here?
When Jay first heard the song Toes, the correct lyric is…my toes just touched the water, my toes just touched the water and repeats a few times. It turns out he was really confused when he heard it. He really thought she was singing...my toast just touched the water. Euuughhh, soggy toast! So, of course, this morning, just as we started to eat, Norah Jones decided to dip her toast into the water. We just looked up at each other and grinned.
We were both really happy to be having tortillas.
TT
I went about fixing breakfast and about the time I served it up and we sat down to eat, a song came on called Toes. Perfect timing. We both looked up at each other and smiled. The first time we heard this song together Jay was having a tough time understanding the words. It is one of those songs where the real lyric sounds like another word that changes the meaning.
You know what I'm taking about. You've heard those songs. Come on, like - okay I'll start with a really old one. Blowing in the wind...it goes...the answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind; the answer is blowing in the wind. Remember that one? But it's been confused and sometimes sung as...the ants are my friends, they're blowing in the wind, the ants are blowing in the wind. Another one of these confused songs is, of course, the ever popular - Bad moon on the rise. You know that one too and no, it’s not bathroom on the right, although it really sounds like it. So you understand what was going on here?
When Jay first heard the song Toes, the correct lyric is…my toes just touched the water, my toes just touched the water and repeats a few times. It turns out he was really confused when he heard it. He really thought she was singing...my toast just touched the water. Euuughhh, soggy toast! So, of course, this morning, just as we started to eat, Norah Jones decided to dip her toast into the water. We just looked up at each other and grinned.
We were both really happy to be having tortillas.
TT
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Tribute to mom
I wrote this piece back in July of 2007. It had been three years since my Mom had past away and I was feeling a little lost but proud. I had emailed it to a few of my close friends and begged that they not think I was too maudlin and that it was just something that I couldn't get out of my head until I wrote it down. Since today would have been her birthday, I thought it appropriate to post.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My mom would have been 80 this July 25th. She was of the sort that should have lived to 95 or so. She was that strong, tenacious, intelligent.
She had a sophistication that could be arrogant. It showed in what she wore and in her attitude. She had a career when women stayed at home, yet raised 6 children. She did it in a way that would be considered old fashioned - dinner was always made-at-home and served at 6:00pm even though she got off at 5:00.
She had a lot of the old domestic ways about her, yet always took them to a higher level. She not only cooked, but catered large parties. She didn’t just garden, but was a master gardener. She not only could knit, needlepoint, crochet, and sew but designed.
She inspired me in creative ways I’ve tried to run from, but can’t. I cook dinner, I feel horrid pangs of guilt when I look at what was once my garden and my designer shopping seems to have replaced the time I had previously used for crocheting and sewing.
I miss our early Saturday morning phone conversations. She would call me or I her, to guess what…find out what each other was working on in the yard, or what was on the menu for dinner. I can’t grab the phone anytime now to ask, “What exactly did I forget to put in this sauce”? Small things are missed the most, and pierce the deepest.
I have an attic full of her things that I immediately packed when she past away. I kept saying I was going to organize it and see what was to sell, trade or keep. It’s been three years and I haven’t made one trip up to use anything that’s there. It’s time to let it all go – no matter what it is. It was never really mine. It all belonged to that strong, independent, self-confident woman that was my mother.
So hears to you, mom. For giving me the examples I needed to live life with such drive and passion. And, oh…I’ve gotten a few calls from that grandson of yours’ asking me what he forgot in that sauce.
_____________________________________________
I've come a way in the past five years. It's been hard, I won't deny it. But how good is it when you come through and find yourself rich with all the things you found along the way when you thought everything had been taken away.
Happy Birthday, Mom. To you and every other person that made someone feel like it was Christmas in July just by having them around.
TT
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My mom would have been 80 this July 25th. She was of the sort that should have lived to 95 or so. She was that strong, tenacious, intelligent.
She had a sophistication that could be arrogant. It showed in what she wore and in her attitude. She had a career when women stayed at home, yet raised 6 children. She did it in a way that would be considered old fashioned - dinner was always made-at-home and served at 6:00pm even though she got off at 5:00.
She had a lot of the old domestic ways about her, yet always took them to a higher level. She not only cooked, but catered large parties. She didn’t just garden, but was a master gardener. She not only could knit, needlepoint, crochet, and sew but designed.
She inspired me in creative ways I’ve tried to run from, but can’t. I cook dinner, I feel horrid pangs of guilt when I look at what was once my garden and my designer shopping seems to have replaced the time I had previously used for crocheting and sewing.
I miss our early Saturday morning phone conversations. She would call me or I her, to guess what…find out what each other was working on in the yard, or what was on the menu for dinner. I can’t grab the phone anytime now to ask, “What exactly did I forget to put in this sauce”? Small things are missed the most, and pierce the deepest.
I have an attic full of her things that I immediately packed when she past away. I kept saying I was going to organize it and see what was to sell, trade or keep. It’s been three years and I haven’t made one trip up to use anything that’s there. It’s time to let it all go – no matter what it is. It was never really mine. It all belonged to that strong, independent, self-confident woman that was my mother.
So hears to you, mom. For giving me the examples I needed to live life with such drive and passion. And, oh…I’ve gotten a few calls from that grandson of yours’ asking me what he forgot in that sauce.
_____________________________________________
I've come a way in the past five years. It's been hard, I won't deny it. But how good is it when you come through and find yourself rich with all the things you found along the way when you thought everything had been taken away.
Happy Birthday, Mom. To you and every other person that made someone feel like it was Christmas in July just by having them around.
TT
Friday, July 24, 2009
Index cards
I am sorting through a mess of index cards. When ideas come to me, I’ve been writing them down so I can go through the cards later when I need an idea. Later has come. I'm going through them now. But they are a mess. These are the ones left over. These are the ones that didn’t get my attention at first and get written up right away. These are the ones I don’t remember as well. So, now I have these random cards left that, well, like I said, are a mess.
Some are very short ideas but I've written over the first parts of sentences, and then tried to show where it should go with arrows. It’s like the idea wasn’t flowing well to begin with so I had to go back and try to clarify it. Reading it now, I still can't make sense of it. Another is completely filled up on both sides but leaves me hanging. I think I should have another card to go with it that continues the idea but I can't seem to match the right index card up with another. Maybe that's all I had time to write down but I keep thinking there was more.
It's giving me this - careful now - fear. I think that's happening because I'm thinking, these are all the ideas I have left? This is it? The only things I have are these incohesive, incomplete, disorganized mess of scribble that even I am having trouble figuring out? This is where I turn on the pressure. What? No decent ideas in the bunch? Is there any idea on these few remaining cards that has a salvageable or close to salvageable idea? It’s making me nervous. I am trying to make myself feel like I’ll never have another idea that’s worth putting down and making something of.
That's where I stop. Break time! Take a breath, pour some coffee, leave the cards for now and shut down the laptop. I know I will come back to the cards and they might possibly make more sense later. They might not make a bit more sense but I will have purged this creepy insecurity and I might even come up with a better idea on a brand new fresh index card. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking. But then I thought I had completely nothing this morning and then…well.
Okay, I still have nothing but then it’s Friday and I’m going to allow myself a small amount of leeway to step back with my coffee cup and try to view the whole. It’s never all that bad with a good cup of coffee and time to just pause. I think I need to do that now and again.
I’m learning.
TT
Some are very short ideas but I've written over the first parts of sentences, and then tried to show where it should go with arrows. It’s like the idea wasn’t flowing well to begin with so I had to go back and try to clarify it. Reading it now, I still can't make sense of it. Another is completely filled up on both sides but leaves me hanging. I think I should have another card to go with it that continues the idea but I can't seem to match the right index card up with another. Maybe that's all I had time to write down but I keep thinking there was more.
It's giving me this - careful now - fear. I think that's happening because I'm thinking, these are all the ideas I have left? This is it? The only things I have are these incohesive, incomplete, disorganized mess of scribble that even I am having trouble figuring out? This is where I turn on the pressure. What? No decent ideas in the bunch? Is there any idea on these few remaining cards that has a salvageable or close to salvageable idea? It’s making me nervous. I am trying to make myself feel like I’ll never have another idea that’s worth putting down and making something of.
That's where I stop. Break time! Take a breath, pour some coffee, leave the cards for now and shut down the laptop. I know I will come back to the cards and they might possibly make more sense later. They might not make a bit more sense but I will have purged this creepy insecurity and I might even come up with a better idea on a brand new fresh index card. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking. But then I thought I had completely nothing this morning and then…well.
Okay, I still have nothing but then it’s Friday and I’m going to allow myself a small amount of leeway to step back with my coffee cup and try to view the whole. It’s never all that bad with a good cup of coffee and time to just pause. I think I need to do that now and again.
I’m learning.
TT
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Crazy drivers
Do you know the feeling when you are into your everyday routine and something happens to give you that soft, quick jolt of happy shock? It’s not a big, overwhelming feeling, but just a small bump of happy before you go back to your everyday. Sometimes I wonder if I get more than my fair share of these happy coincidences. I’m not sure about the numbers or what they are supposed to be. Maybe I just acknowledge mine more than most people.
This is how it went for me recently when I got one of these unexpected soft jolts. I had an appointment after work and traveled to the location. The appointment went as scheduled and it wasn’t long before I was on my way home. I was speeding down the highway with the top down when I heard a male voice call out, "Hey, what a great car!" Now I have gotten very good at ignoring call outs about my car, but that day my natural instinct to turn around kicked in before I could stop it. I took a quick glance over to my left where the voice in the car next to me was coming from.
I caught his eye and glanced back to the road to check my speed, check on traffic and by that time I am smiling broadly. I quickly looked over at the other driver, fluffed up my hair and called out, "I just got my hair cut!" He didn't miss a beat before he is flipping his tie up and down, yelling back to me, "I just got off work!" We moved on down the highway and traffic finally kept us from traveling side by side in our respective lanes and saying any more.
I thought the idea of coincidence may not really be that great since I know he travels that way every day about that same time after work. He is pretty much fixed in that he is there every day about that same time. The coincidence to me comes in where I was traveling that way at the same time that particular day and that we would end up side by side during that busy rush time with lanes of traffic.
It was a crazy thing to do speeding down the highway but we were both mindful of the traffic and the exchange was extremely short. But it was there - that soft, quick jolt of happy. How did I forget my usual ability to ignore the comment being thrown out randomly about my car? How could I expect that male voice calling out to me to be any less edgy than my own when I realized at first glance who it was? They say apples don't fall far...It was Dante!
I know, I know…crazy. But no matter the circumstances, this particular coincidence had me smiling for a while.
TT
This is how it went for me recently when I got one of these unexpected soft jolts. I had an appointment after work and traveled to the location. The appointment went as scheduled and it wasn’t long before I was on my way home. I was speeding down the highway with the top down when I heard a male voice call out, "Hey, what a great car!" Now I have gotten very good at ignoring call outs about my car, but that day my natural instinct to turn around kicked in before I could stop it. I took a quick glance over to my left where the voice in the car next to me was coming from.
I caught his eye and glanced back to the road to check my speed, check on traffic and by that time I am smiling broadly. I quickly looked over at the other driver, fluffed up my hair and called out, "I just got my hair cut!" He didn't miss a beat before he is flipping his tie up and down, yelling back to me, "I just got off work!" We moved on down the highway and traffic finally kept us from traveling side by side in our respective lanes and saying any more.
I thought the idea of coincidence may not really be that great since I know he travels that way every day about that same time after work. He is pretty much fixed in that he is there every day about that same time. The coincidence to me comes in where I was traveling that way at the same time that particular day and that we would end up side by side during that busy rush time with lanes of traffic.
It was a crazy thing to do speeding down the highway but we were both mindful of the traffic and the exchange was extremely short. But it was there - that soft, quick jolt of happy. How did I forget my usual ability to ignore the comment being thrown out randomly about my car? How could I expect that male voice calling out to me to be any less edgy than my own when I realized at first glance who it was? They say apples don't fall far...It was Dante!
I know, I know…crazy. But no matter the circumstances, this particular coincidence had me smiling for a while.
TT
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Great
I wrote a post about how good I feel. I wrote it, stored it, and edited it. I stored it a little longer, re-read it, looked at it again, and edited it. I realized the subject of telling how good I feel was almost as bad as telling you how bad I feel. Who cares? It’s a dull subject matter. One comes off as whining, the other as boasting, and who wants to listen to either? I can’t imagine who, especially me. It didn’t ring right as I was reading it.
So I erased what I had written and proceeded to write what I have above. And it was better but somehow not quite done. I kept trying to figure out if I had more to say about the good feeling I was having. I think I was trying to say more, but what? Then I saw an article about how you can increase your chances of becoming happy by at least 15 percent if someone in your immediate social circle is happy. Happy people spread their vibes. It doesn’t have to be a close friend, even a friend of a friend will do.
I can’t say what caused this for me. I don’t think I was in the lucky 15 percent that had a happy friend rub off on me. My closest friends haven’t been in the best spots possible in their lives lately. Maybe it was because of the darker, heartfelt things my friends have been trying to get themselves through is helping me appreciate all the things that I have. And I have a lot.
Thank goodness I kept going back and didn’t actually publish the original post! But just so you know…I feel really good lately, for whatever reason!
TT
So I erased what I had written and proceeded to write what I have above. And it was better but somehow not quite done. I kept trying to figure out if I had more to say about the good feeling I was having. I think I was trying to say more, but what? Then I saw an article about how you can increase your chances of becoming happy by at least 15 percent if someone in your immediate social circle is happy. Happy people spread their vibes. It doesn’t have to be a close friend, even a friend of a friend will do.
I can’t say what caused this for me. I don’t think I was in the lucky 15 percent that had a happy friend rub off on me. My closest friends haven’t been in the best spots possible in their lives lately. Maybe it was because of the darker, heartfelt things my friends have been trying to get themselves through is helping me appreciate all the things that I have. And I have a lot.
Thank goodness I kept going back and didn’t actually publish the original post! But just so you know…I feel really good lately, for whatever reason!
TT
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Dance clips
My goodness! I mention dance and I am spending my morning watching different types of dance clips people have sent me. They are very good, but I wasn't expecting to sit and watch for so long. My goodness! It's nice to see some of the things that are out there if you have the friends that do the looking and send them to you. I don't know that I would go out and find these things myself. It's nice to be able to just click and watch.
The first clips were very good Tango promenades and some footwork. I could see myself being able to master this without too much difficulty. I have a feeling I've said that too easily. Maybe I don't have a real grasp on how hard it is or maybe I’ve lost my built in be careful monitor that should hold me back from being so eager to try. I say that but I guess it's a partner thing and there would be some practice and coordination involved. Well, there would definitely be coordination involved. It still seems like something I know I could have a lot of fun trying to learn. I'm going to keep it on a back burner.
The second clip was a silly thing. A friend took pictures of me and my boy’s faces and pasted them on the heads of a group of break dancers. It looked like the three of us are dancing except that our heads are huge and I have to wonder if I've just gotten too old and stuffy to understand. Well, I know I've gotten too old because there are quite a few things out there that seem terribly silly to me that a majority of people seem to gravitate too these days. It was a cute clip although the program that offers it might have been targeting a younger demographic. But that's the old and stuffy talking. Give me real people doing real things well.
God, I am old.
TT
The first clips were very good Tango promenades and some footwork. I could see myself being able to master this without too much difficulty. I have a feeling I've said that too easily. Maybe I don't have a real grasp on how hard it is or maybe I’ve lost my built in be careful monitor that should hold me back from being so eager to try. I say that but I guess it's a partner thing and there would be some practice and coordination involved. Well, there would definitely be coordination involved. It still seems like something I know I could have a lot of fun trying to learn. I'm going to keep it on a back burner.
The second clip was a silly thing. A friend took pictures of me and my boy’s faces and pasted them on the heads of a group of break dancers. It looked like the three of us are dancing except that our heads are huge and I have to wonder if I've just gotten too old and stuffy to understand. Well, I know I've gotten too old because there are quite a few things out there that seem terribly silly to me that a majority of people seem to gravitate too these days. It was a cute clip although the program that offers it might have been targeting a younger demographic. But that's the old and stuffy talking. Give me real people doing real things well.
God, I am old.
TT
Monday, July 20, 2009
Slow learner
I slept in today, that is for a work day. I'm still up and ready to go but it's definitely a Monday morning when I would rather have another day off. I have an appointment this afternoon so I am scheduled to leave work a little early. I think I'm actually going to change the appointment for another day but still leave early. It's one of those days where it will probably take me all morning to get going and then the only thing I will want to do is leave. So I might as well go ahead and do that, especially since I've already planned the time off. I think that's what most people do. It's taken me years to figure that out. And then another few years to figure out that it is alright to do that.
Go figure.
TT
Go figure.
TT
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Quiet morning
I am drinking my share of coffee this morning. It's quiet and I like that. It's also slightly overcast and I should go out and do a short run before it's get's too unbearable to do it outside. We'll see how the day goes. I would hope to steal some time to face away from my laptop and use my cutting table to sort through my notes for my writing project. I have visions of sorting my pages of notes all over the long rectangular table and pulling the ideas together into one page. I know I can do that. I will be doing that.
But now I'm having another cup of coffee and I will see how the day unfolds.
TT
But now I'm having another cup of coffee and I will see how the day unfolds.
TT
Saturday, July 18, 2009
A day
8:25am - Make full 10 cups coffee, start bookkeeping for shop.
9:10am - Wake Jay up for work, go back to finish Sales Tax report.
9:29am - Jay leaves for work, make out checks for invoices, get ready to mail, no coffee left.
Listening to Ingrid Michaelson – Girls and Boys
10:24am - Head out for a run.
Anne Lennox - Diva
11:00am - Plop down on bench in front of house after 3.1 mile run in neighborhood.
11:05am - Peel off running shoes and socks, put on flip flops, drink water, eat a banana.
11:13am - Reposition the car to center of drive, start to wash and detail.
Amy Winehouse – Back to Black
12:04pm - Take off sodden clothes and hit the shower.
12:40pm - Pressed, dressed, fresh. Now hair and make-up. Put laundry whites in to soak.
Suzanne Vega – Beauty and Crime
12:54pm - Top down on car to go to post office, bank and grocery store.
Satellite Radio – Octane Station – Heavy metal
2:48pm - Home again. Kick off shoes, Laundry washing, groceries put away. Sear short ribs for dinner, make red wine braising sauce.
Radiohead – In Rainbows
3:32pm - Short ribs braising in oven. Decalcify Capresso Coffee maker, clean up kitchen.
4:17pm - Sweep floor.
John Mayer – Room for Squares
4:34pm - Hear thunder, run to put top up on car. Grab nectarine, sit on back deck to see if it starts to rain.
4:41pm - No rain. Vacuum bedroom, dust coffee tables.
5:08pm - Empty small garbage cans, put in another load of laundry.
5:26pm - Prep potatoes, fold laundry and put away.
6:08pm - Getting pooped. Pour a glass of the red used in braising sauce and sit a bit.
7:19pm - Jay’s home. Make salad. Pour another glass of wine.
Jimmy Buffet – Take the weather with you
8:34m - Sitting on back deck. Talking, drinking…have I eaten?
Dr John – Goin’ Back to New Orleans
10:24pm - Lights out.
TT
9:10am - Wake Jay up for work, go back to finish Sales Tax report.
9:29am - Jay leaves for work, make out checks for invoices, get ready to mail, no coffee left.
Listening to Ingrid Michaelson – Girls and Boys
10:24am - Head out for a run.
Anne Lennox - Diva
11:00am - Plop down on bench in front of house after 3.1 mile run in neighborhood.
11:05am - Peel off running shoes and socks, put on flip flops, drink water, eat a banana.
11:13am - Reposition the car to center of drive, start to wash and detail.
Amy Winehouse – Back to Black
12:04pm - Take off sodden clothes and hit the shower.
12:40pm - Pressed, dressed, fresh. Now hair and make-up. Put laundry whites in to soak.
Suzanne Vega – Beauty and Crime
12:54pm - Top down on car to go to post office, bank and grocery store.
Satellite Radio – Octane Station – Heavy metal
2:48pm - Home again. Kick off shoes, Laundry washing, groceries put away. Sear short ribs for dinner, make red wine braising sauce.
Radiohead – In Rainbows
3:32pm - Short ribs braising in oven. Decalcify Capresso Coffee maker, clean up kitchen.
4:17pm - Sweep floor.
John Mayer – Room for Squares
4:34pm - Hear thunder, run to put top up on car. Grab nectarine, sit on back deck to see if it starts to rain.
4:41pm - No rain. Vacuum bedroom, dust coffee tables.
5:08pm - Empty small garbage cans, put in another load of laundry.
5:26pm - Prep potatoes, fold laundry and put away.
6:08pm - Getting pooped. Pour a glass of the red used in braising sauce and sit a bit.
7:19pm - Jay’s home. Make salad. Pour another glass of wine.
Jimmy Buffet – Take the weather with you
8:34m - Sitting on back deck. Talking, drinking…have I eaten?
Dr John – Goin’ Back to New Orleans
10:24pm - Lights out.
TT
Friday, July 17, 2009
Bonus
I'm thinking you might be getting a bonus post today just so I can get this horse lashing of myself out of the way. I've been spending a lot of my free time parked in front of this laptop, scribbling word after word. That's not what this particular horse lashing is about. The words are not the problem. I am very happy the ways these words have been coming along. What needs to be addressed right now is that I finally dragged by fat butt to the gym and got it kicked. I have been neglecting my gym and running time!
This is not a good thing. I went to class today and was not doing well. My stamina is off, my feet are cramping. I look like a stick person with a butt. That is NOT a good thing. I don't care how popular all that junk in the trunk is now-a-days. I don't buy into that. It ain't happening, no way. I am going to have to find some kind of balance to get it all done. All, yes. I'm not sacrificing one thing or another. I'm good, I'll get better, I'll find a way, I will work it out and I will work out and write and find time.
So now...I guess you got a bonus post because I needed to rant.
TT
This is not a good thing. I went to class today and was not doing well. My stamina is off, my feet are cramping. I look like a stick person with a butt. That is NOT a good thing. I don't care how popular all that junk in the trunk is now-a-days. I don't buy into that. It ain't happening, no way. I am going to have to find some kind of balance to get it all done. All, yes. I'm not sacrificing one thing or another. I'm good, I'll get better, I'll find a way, I will work it out and I will work out and write and find time.
So now...I guess you got a bonus post because I needed to rant.
TT
Brainstorming exercise
The book I am reading now on writing had some interesting ideas for brainstorming. I haven't had too much of a problem with finding ideas and words to write down but I thought there was an interesting concept that the book mentioned. It suggested that when you are in the process of writing your outline and thinking about your scenes, to come up with a soundtrack for your story. I thought...a soundtrack for my story!?! Who are you kidding? You have no idea how I could turn that into some kind of...some kind of...yeah. Crazy idea. This person was trying to be helpful. They don’t have any idea about me and my music.
Um, hmm. They don't know me and my music. I listen to such a mish-mash of different artists and genre's that my story would be all over the place. The alternative is that I would put so much time and energy into getting the perfect songs that I wouldn't have any time to write.
One day a while back I decided to put together a playlist for myself that had bluesy horns, good vocals, acoustic guitars and keyboards. I picked a song and moved it over into my playlist. I found another and another until I had about ten songs that I knew I liked. Great! Or so I thought. I liked the playlist but the first time I listened to my finished product I realized I had chosen the songs from a musical perspective and had not paid much mind to the songs lyrics. Every song I chose was about a relationship gone wrong and they were possibly some of the saddest songs I probably owned. I had created a Lost Love Suicide Playlist. I didn't dare let anyone who was coming out of a recent relationship listen to it for fear of finding out they had done themselves in with only a tear stained, blurry note left behind.
But maybe a soundtrack could prove to be interesting for writing. I have been known to listen to certain albums when working on a certain writing piece for inspiration. I've used music before to help get ideas when I run. Then there is the fact that thirty years ago when I started doing theatre, my first job was to handle sound. I picked opening themes along with the effects needed during the show.
Wow - I hadn't thought about that in such a long time. What I'm realizing now is that a song lyric is what gave me the initial idea for the current project I am getting started on. But I think to put together a soundtrack right now would be a bit much. (How could I work in Norah Jones with Buckcherry or Lilly Allen with John Mayer, ELO, Manhattan Transfer or Radiohead with Eric Clapton or Jay-Z or Annie Lennox, BB King...)?
So maybe the soundtrack brainstorming idea isn't something I'll be doing anytime soon to help with my story. But I know music will always be an important part for me and my thoughts. And I'm remembering now how important it always has been.
TT
Um, hmm. They don't know me and my music. I listen to such a mish-mash of different artists and genre's that my story would be all over the place. The alternative is that I would put so much time and energy into getting the perfect songs that I wouldn't have any time to write.
One day a while back I decided to put together a playlist for myself that had bluesy horns, good vocals, acoustic guitars and keyboards. I picked a song and moved it over into my playlist. I found another and another until I had about ten songs that I knew I liked. Great! Or so I thought. I liked the playlist but the first time I listened to my finished product I realized I had chosen the songs from a musical perspective and had not paid much mind to the songs lyrics. Every song I chose was about a relationship gone wrong and they were possibly some of the saddest songs I probably owned. I had created a Lost Love Suicide Playlist. I didn't dare let anyone who was coming out of a recent relationship listen to it for fear of finding out they had done themselves in with only a tear stained, blurry note left behind.
But maybe a soundtrack could prove to be interesting for writing. I have been known to listen to certain albums when working on a certain writing piece for inspiration. I've used music before to help get ideas when I run. Then there is the fact that thirty years ago when I started doing theatre, my first job was to handle sound. I picked opening themes along with the effects needed during the show.
Wow - I hadn't thought about that in such a long time. What I'm realizing now is that a song lyric is what gave me the initial idea for the current project I am getting started on. But I think to put together a soundtrack right now would be a bit much. (How could I work in Norah Jones with Buckcherry or Lilly Allen with John Mayer, ELO, Manhattan Transfer or Radiohead with Eric Clapton or Jay-Z or Annie Lennox, BB King...)?
So maybe the soundtrack brainstorming idea isn't something I'll be doing anytime soon to help with my story. But I know music will always be an important part for me and my thoughts. And I'm remembering now how important it always has been.
TT
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Stepping away from the fear
As you may or not have read in some of my posts, I had been experiencing a very real fear about continuing writing and starting my major project. I knew I needed to dispel the fear in order to move on or I would shut myself down as I have done in the past. Friends had tried to be encouraging but no amount could convince me that it was worth continuing. I couldn't move myself forward. Recently, I was finding myself stuck in that spot again, afraid to go further. I had to do something to figure out what to do and gain some confidence in order to convince myself that it was worth continuing.
I've never been the wait-and-see-how-things-go type of person. I can be mellow enough and go with the flow but when it comes to things that I'm personally involved in I will almost always want to take some kind of action. I try to figure out what my next steps are. I need to do something about it. I guess a pretty lame example would be if I really wanted to go swimming but I found no water in the pool I don't think I'd just find my way back home and forget it. I could fill the pool myself or find another place to swim. I bet I'd find another place fairly quickly and make it happen. So when I realized I had battered myself into an immobile standstill, I knew I had to do something about the fear. I wanted to move forward. I wanted to write.
So what's to do? What action could I take? When I was feeling defeated it's not easy to come up with the next steps. But I knew I wasn't going to leave it as is and hope it changed. I thought the best way to dispel the fear was to get an understanding of what was making me fearful about writing. I knew I had this underlying feeling that I didn’t have enough knowledge about writing. It was undermining my confidence.
AHA! Easy! I could get books (one of my favorite things) about writing. And I did and found the first book to be the very medicine I needed. It addressed the craziness, fear, and insanity that I had been experiencing and clued me in that I wasn't the only one that felt that way. It did, really! I was so happy!
Now I have another book that is more technical but it might be to an extreme. Day one do this, day two do that . It might be a little too regimented so I will pick and choose. I certainly don’t want to restrain any creativity (ha-did I use the word restrain about myself). But it also feels good to have a guide that I can choose to follow whether it’s closely or loosely.
It mentioned some good brainstorming ideas and to how to let them flow. It said to use index cards and keep them handy and write ideas down. Well, that's working, but I think index cards are too small for me. I've used up quite a few for just a few ideas. Maybe I'm going into too much detail but then...oh, I’ll figure out the index card problem, I promise. It's not that big a deal to me since it doesn't really matter how many I use, right? A limit on index cards doesn't seem to be mentioned anywhere in the book and it has to be better than the grocery receipts I was using before. But here I am now and didn’t even get to the brainstorming exercise the book mentioned. I guess I’ll need to continue that part tomorrow…
TT
I've never been the wait-and-see-how-things-go type of person. I can be mellow enough and go with the flow but when it comes to things that I'm personally involved in I will almost always want to take some kind of action. I try to figure out what my next steps are. I need to do something about it. I guess a pretty lame example would be if I really wanted to go swimming but I found no water in the pool I don't think I'd just find my way back home and forget it. I could fill the pool myself or find another place to swim. I bet I'd find another place fairly quickly and make it happen. So when I realized I had battered myself into an immobile standstill, I knew I had to do something about the fear. I wanted to move forward. I wanted to write.
So what's to do? What action could I take? When I was feeling defeated it's not easy to come up with the next steps. But I knew I wasn't going to leave it as is and hope it changed. I thought the best way to dispel the fear was to get an understanding of what was making me fearful about writing. I knew I had this underlying feeling that I didn’t have enough knowledge about writing. It was undermining my confidence.
AHA! Easy! I could get books (one of my favorite things) about writing. And I did and found the first book to be the very medicine I needed. It addressed the craziness, fear, and insanity that I had been experiencing and clued me in that I wasn't the only one that felt that way. It did, really! I was so happy!
Now I have another book that is more technical but it might be to an extreme. Day one do this, day two do that . It might be a little too regimented so I will pick and choose. I certainly don’t want to restrain any creativity (ha-did I use the word restrain about myself). But it also feels good to have a guide that I can choose to follow whether it’s closely or loosely.
It mentioned some good brainstorming ideas and to how to let them flow. It said to use index cards and keep them handy and write ideas down. Well, that's working, but I think index cards are too small for me. I've used up quite a few for just a few ideas. Maybe I'm going into too much detail but then...oh, I’ll figure out the index card problem, I promise. It's not that big a deal to me since it doesn't really matter how many I use, right? A limit on index cards doesn't seem to be mentioned anywhere in the book and it has to be better than the grocery receipts I was using before. But here I am now and didn’t even get to the brainstorming exercise the book mentioned. I guess I’ll need to continue that part tomorrow…
TT
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
In a name
Character sketches. I've been working on my character sketches. Do you know what I'm having the most trouble with? I am having trouble with their names! I know exactly who they are, what they do, most of their background, how they act, and dress. I know all these things about them and then I'm stumped. I can’t think what their names should be! Nameless characters.
It won't work that way. I'm having the hardest time coming up with the right name, THE right name for my characters. I don't mean to dwell on this and I don't think I'm making it a bigger issue than it is, but it's their NAME. It's one of the major things that readers have to identify the character. Names are important, aren't they? Don't you picture a Bertha different from a Chelsea? Okay - maybe that's an extreme comparison - but don't you? Picture them differently, I mean? It is important! And I'm struggling with it just a bit.
I wonder what other writers do and how they pick names for their characters. I've read the entire John Sandford series and his character Lucas Davenport. He introduced an undercover cop that I really, really liked in the series and Sandford named the character Del. Okay, good name. I could picture this disheveled man, who worked on the street, dealing with the druggies and street people as an undercover cop. Now I'm not sure why, but Sandford gave Del the last name of Capslock. This characters name is Del Capslock.
Hmmm...I thought. I wonder if Sandford got stuck on the name. I wonder if he just went blank, looked down at this keyboard lost in thought, and saw that key. I wonder if while he was writing, the key got stuck and he looked up and everything was caps and it gave him the idea. I don't know where the idea for the name came from, but it sure made me think of that when I was reading the books. Maybe Sandford was on a writing roll and meant to change it later but never did? Did it work out anyway? I wonder if I was the only one that noticed that name.
Okay, enough...thinking way too hard again, aren't I? I have some characters to name and I don't want to end up with a tab or a shift.
TT
It won't work that way. I'm having the hardest time coming up with the right name, THE right name for my characters. I don't mean to dwell on this and I don't think I'm making it a bigger issue than it is, but it's their NAME. It's one of the major things that readers have to identify the character. Names are important, aren't they? Don't you picture a Bertha different from a Chelsea? Okay - maybe that's an extreme comparison - but don't you? Picture them differently, I mean? It is important! And I'm struggling with it just a bit.
I wonder what other writers do and how they pick names for their characters. I've read the entire John Sandford series and his character Lucas Davenport. He introduced an undercover cop that I really, really liked in the series and Sandford named the character Del. Okay, good name. I could picture this disheveled man, who worked on the street, dealing with the druggies and street people as an undercover cop. Now I'm not sure why, but Sandford gave Del the last name of Capslock. This characters name is Del Capslock.
Hmmm...I thought. I wonder if Sandford got stuck on the name. I wonder if he just went blank, looked down at this keyboard lost in thought, and saw that key. I wonder if while he was writing, the key got stuck and he looked up and everything was caps and it gave him the idea. I don't know where the idea for the name came from, but it sure made me think of that when I was reading the books. Maybe Sandford was on a writing roll and meant to change it later but never did? Did it work out anyway? I wonder if I was the only one that noticed that name.
Okay, enough...thinking way too hard again, aren't I? I have some characters to name and I don't want to end up with a tab or a shift.
TT
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Tap or Tango
I have to tell you, I was so inspired by some of the dance pieces from the show I previously mentioned in my post Addiction in Dance that I cued up another piece. I dragged Jay in and had him watch this oh so gorgeous Argentine Tango. He watched quietly and when it was over I asked excitedly, "What did you think?"
"It was good."
"It was, wasn't it! Do you think we could learn to dance a tango?"
"I can't do that."
"Well, not exactly like that, I said pointing to the television set, but learn a tango together."
He scowled. "I'm not in shape for that. I couldn't do that."
"Don't you think it would be fun to take a dance class together?"
"Yeah, I guess. But I've always been interested in tap dancing. If I was going to take a class, it would be tap."
Pause.
I don't remember how long I paused. I tried to hold my face as still and without reaction while my mind searched and my eyes took in Jay standing there. Let me see, let me see....tap dancers: Gene Kelly, Gregory Hines, Donald O'Connor, Shirley Temple. Nope. I don't see a single resemblance to any of these dancers to Jay. Far from it. Far, far, far from it. But wait. He seems serious. I might need to take what I can get.
"I could do tap, I replied. It's never exactly been very high on my dancing priority list but if we could take some classes together it might be fun. Do you think you can find a beginners class for a couple our age? (gads! what a thought!)
"Sure, oh course - there are classes."
I had no idea. I had no idea there were classes available for tap, but according to Jay's brief search on the Internet he found a couple of local studios that offered it. He was going to check into it. He is going to see if the studios would be able to accommodating our age and situation. Yeah, I'm not sure what the situation is except that I’ve landed myself into this one. If he doesn't think he's fit enough for a tango how will he keep up with tap? I was looking for a sleek sexy partnered dance and I might be hopping around with brand new ribbons on a pair of tap shoes. I thought the idea of doing the partner dance was something he would have really gone for. Ah well. He probably won’t even follow up on it. I don't know that he will remember we talked about it and actually get classes set up.
I really don't want to discourage him and tap could prove to be fun. I just can't seem to get the picture out of my head as we head out to a tap class and me calling back to him, "Hey Shirley, grab your tap shoes."
Oh, come on. I'm not that bad. He would deserve it for thinking I fell for the idea of him doing a dance class of any kind with me. He's such a master of misdirection.
TT
"It was good."
"It was, wasn't it! Do you think we could learn to dance a tango?"
"I can't do that."
"Well, not exactly like that, I said pointing to the television set, but learn a tango together."
He scowled. "I'm not in shape for that. I couldn't do that."
"Don't you think it would be fun to take a dance class together?"
"Yeah, I guess. But I've always been interested in tap dancing. If I was going to take a class, it would be tap."
Pause.
I don't remember how long I paused. I tried to hold my face as still and without reaction while my mind searched and my eyes took in Jay standing there. Let me see, let me see....tap dancers: Gene Kelly, Gregory Hines, Donald O'Connor, Shirley Temple. Nope. I don't see a single resemblance to any of these dancers to Jay. Far from it. Far, far, far from it. But wait. He seems serious. I might need to take what I can get.
"I could do tap, I replied. It's never exactly been very high on my dancing priority list but if we could take some classes together it might be fun. Do you think you can find a beginners class for a couple our age? (gads! what a thought!)
"Sure, oh course - there are classes."
I had no idea. I had no idea there were classes available for tap, but according to Jay's brief search on the Internet he found a couple of local studios that offered it. He was going to check into it. He is going to see if the studios would be able to accommodating our age and situation. Yeah, I'm not sure what the situation is except that I’ve landed myself into this one. If he doesn't think he's fit enough for a tango how will he keep up with tap? I was looking for a sleek sexy partnered dance and I might be hopping around with brand new ribbons on a pair of tap shoes. I thought the idea of doing the partner dance was something he would have really gone for. Ah well. He probably won’t even follow up on it. I don't know that he will remember we talked about it and actually get classes set up.
I really don't want to discourage him and tap could prove to be fun. I just can't seem to get the picture out of my head as we head out to a tap class and me calling back to him, "Hey Shirley, grab your tap shoes."
Oh, come on. I'm not that bad. He would deserve it for thinking I fell for the idea of him doing a dance class of any kind with me. He's such a master of misdirection.
TT
Monday, July 13, 2009
Time found
I am full awake and have too many words in my head. I'm afraid I'm going to pound away at this keyboard and fill a page without a direction. I'm not sure that's such a bad thing. I'm not sure the filling of the page is bad. I've heard that you have to get the words down first. I've heard you have to have something to work with and it has to be these black and white (or other colors, I guess, if you change the font color) symbols on the page first. They seem to be appearing.
I said yesterday that I wanted to set aside time to concentrate only on my more major writing project. I was afraid I wouldn't do it. Days off sometimes find ordinary things getting in the way. It's easier said than getting it done. For one thing, time goes faster, there is always some thing I've put off and should get done now and then it's just plain old time to relax for a few. I forget that part the most - the relax part. I'm told over and over that I don't know how to do that. Relax. So somehow I was worried that the project time wasn't going to happen with all these other things going on.
But it worked out anyway. And even though I didn't spend that aside time the way I had pictured in my head I would, I did it just the same. I did take a concentrated amount of time and only focused on that project. I think that is the reason for all the words. I know it's the reason for all the words. I've been scribbling things down pretty fast lately. It's nothing that anyone else would understand, but it all makes sense to me, right now. I might change it later but I wouldn't have anything to change if I hadn't done it first. It’s too early in the process to think anything about it. This part just feels like ideas tumbling over each other and leaping from one to another without any order. So I’m trying to get them down and hope I can understand my notes and what I meant when I go back to them.
Happy Monday, everyone!
TT
I said yesterday that I wanted to set aside time to concentrate only on my more major writing project. I was afraid I wouldn't do it. Days off sometimes find ordinary things getting in the way. It's easier said than getting it done. For one thing, time goes faster, there is always some thing I've put off and should get done now and then it's just plain old time to relax for a few. I forget that part the most - the relax part. I'm told over and over that I don't know how to do that. Relax. So somehow I was worried that the project time wasn't going to happen with all these other things going on.
But it worked out anyway. And even though I didn't spend that aside time the way I had pictured in my head I would, I did it just the same. I did take a concentrated amount of time and only focused on that project. I think that is the reason for all the words. I know it's the reason for all the words. I've been scribbling things down pretty fast lately. It's nothing that anyone else would understand, but it all makes sense to me, right now. I might change it later but I wouldn't have anything to change if I hadn't done it first. It’s too early in the process to think anything about it. This part just feels like ideas tumbling over each other and leaping from one to another without any order. So I’m trying to get them down and hope I can understand my notes and what I meant when I go back to them.
Happy Monday, everyone!
TT
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Not fiction
I am writing this post early today on a Sunday because I know I'll get caught up in other things later. I specifically want to actually put some words down on my more major writing project today. I've been side stepping it very carefully and I'm calling myself out on it today. I WILL find a small block of time to work on nothing else. It won't be hard to do; I have actually been looking forward to it. I've got all this pent up energy to get going but the last week (no - I'm not giving excuses) was, well was, it was. Okay, maybe I could come up with a few excuses.
What it comes down to is I am enjoying the process more and more. I'm thinking I've learned the tiniest bits of good information and I'm going to try to put some of those things down on a more formal, longer fiction story. What? You thought all of these posts were fiction??!?
Not a chance...these have been real! Scary isn't it?
TT
What it comes down to is I am enjoying the process more and more. I'm thinking I've learned the tiniest bits of good information and I'm going to try to put some of those things down on a more formal, longer fiction story. What? You thought all of these posts were fiction??!?
Not a chance...these have been real! Scary isn't it?
TT
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Addiction in dance
I was getting ready to meet a friend for lunch and I switched on the TV to catch up on whatever part of the few shows I record. I don't watch much television. Actually I always set the recorded and watch them later (like Saturday before going to lunch). I realized I only had a handful of shows that I watch. The list as it stands right now is a sexy vampire show on HBO, a cooking show, a show about fashion design, and a dance show. I was catching up on the dance show when one of my favorite choreographers, Mia Michaels, had given a couple a dance about addiction.
I have to say I always love the dances this choreographer comes up with. This one was close to home to the young man that had to portray the addiction in the piece. He had lost a close family friend and his emotion during the one minute interview had him in tears thinking how he didn't want to step into that role for the minute and a half the dance would take. He said he didn't want to step into it for two beats.
He did an outstanding job as the addiction and his young blond female partner tried every which way to get him to release her from his grip. He played her like a Puppet Master, posing her, while she jumped, kicked and leaped away from him. He would strong hold her pushing her to the floor, hands on her neck choking, and then covering her mouth. The dance progressed where she was weakened and gets two steps away from him and turns her back. He stands face front with one arm out toward her, not even reaching to her because the smirk on his face told of the confidence that he knew she would be come back.
Talk about a powerful piece, beautifully danced, wonderfully choreographed! Wow. What inspiration.
TT
Friday, July 10, 2009
Shade of blue
I am going to keep this short and sweet. I had a good time writing yesterdays post (and the other most recent). I had to describe that meeting about the Rules of writing the way it kept swirling in my head. The idea of making it a scene instead of just describing it seemed so much more fun. I wasn't sure how it would turn out, but hopefully, it came off moderately right. I am not a good judge of myself but the feel was good. I'm probably way off.
It was precisely that type of under confident talk (I'm probably way off) that I was trying to steer myself away from. I wanted it to be something a little off kilter, so to speak. I knew I needed something that would bounce me out of that negative kicking of myself all the time. Like the time I had gotten so stressed I painted my fingernails a silly shade of blue – and wore it that way to work. I would watch people look at my hands then back up at me as if they were unsure. As soon as I caught their eye I would just shrug and explain, "I needed to be reminded not to take myself so seriously." They were way too polite to roll their eyes in front of me. They might have thought of doing it but they didn’t. They probably should have. But it made me grin and kept me from being so serious.
It worked for me. It would be really nice if these pieces have worked for anyone else. But if not, oh well. I guess I'll just have to stick to that one rule Erik, or Nick, or whatever I’m calling him today suggested.
TT
It was precisely that type of under confident talk (I'm probably way off) that I was trying to steer myself away from. I wanted it to be something a little off kilter, so to speak. I knew I needed something that would bounce me out of that negative kicking of myself all the time. Like the time I had gotten so stressed I painted my fingernails a silly shade of blue – and wore it that way to work. I would watch people look at my hands then back up at me as if they were unsure. As soon as I caught their eye I would just shrug and explain, "I needed to be reminded not to take myself so seriously." They were way too polite to roll their eyes in front of me. They might have thought of doing it but they didn’t. They probably should have. But it made me grin and kept me from being so serious.
It worked for me. It would be really nice if these pieces have worked for anyone else. But if not, oh well. I guess I'll just have to stick to that one rule Erik, or Nick, or whatever I’m calling him today suggested.
TT
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Rules of writing
It must be about time for me to write something not so somber. It seems my tone of late has read very monotone. I'm not sure the writing has been bad but, boy, (or girl) lighten up! Is this were I should stick in a funny piece? Should I try to put something here that will make you chuckle or grin? Am I analyzing everything to death again? Yes. Absolutely. Without a doubt. Who made these rules and how do I get a meeting with them so I can ask point blank what they all are and how they were arrived at? I would just like some answers…
I walked down the long corridor. It was so narrow I was almost claustrophobic. I could barely see the doorway at the end and it took me a while to reach it. I finally put my hand on the knob, made a quick twist and pulled the door open. I wasn't expecting the immense space just inside. A small foyer was framed with a high archway leading into the main room. There were several grouped seating areas and floor to ceiling windows covered with rich, cream and red chintz draperies. I was slightly confused by the furniture. It was a hodge-podge of expensive antiques mixed with modern black lacquered pieces and thrift store cast-offs. It was more flamboyant than I was expecting. Without a doubt, the pink feather swing hanging in one corner seemed to be the most misplaced piece in the entire space. I was greeted from...I'm not sure where...by a tall, thin Nordic featured man poking my shoulder. I looked up as I turned to face a startling pair of blue eyes beaming down on me and a pair of lips with an upward lift.
He took my hand and enveloped it between both his and led me to one of the seating areas as he murmured, "Theresa, it is so good to meet you. My name is Erik." He waited for me to sit before seating himself in a large coffee colored leather chair. He crossed his long legs, sat back and with a bent elbow rested his chin and cheekbone against his thumb and index finger.
I fidgeted slightly and finally stated, “I wanted to take a few minutes to talk to you about the rules of writing.”
“The rules of writing,” he repeated, without moving.
“Yes,” I said cautiously.
He nodded slightly and said, “Okay. Go ahead.”
I nervously cleared my throat and said, “Well... I guess I want to know all of them.”
“All of them. There is only one.”
“Only one?” I inquired.
“No? he questioned. Well, then. There are 9 million point 5."
“Nine million five? Are you kidding me? Which is it? That's a big difference.”
“How many do you want?”
“All of them!” I said emphatically.
“There's one.”
“One!”
“Or anywhere from 1 to 9 million five."
“What?! Wait a minute. How can that be?"
“How many do you need?” he asked.
“They’re your rules. I’m just trying to follow them.” I said desperately.
“Then there is only one.”
I slumped back into the chair. “Okay then, I give up. What is the one rule, Erik?”
He leaned forward as if to whisper a secret and said, “Call me Nick.”
“What?”
“My name is Nick.”
I leaned in toward him. “I thought you told me your name was Erik.”
“You didn't like it so you changed it. That was the name you used for me in the first draft.”
“I changed it? The first draft? What are you talking about? Let's get real here.”
“Get real? he said perplexed. This is fiction! I thought you knew that.”
“Well, yes. I, I...but”
“But, nothing. You make the rules.” He threw up his hands and stood up. “You’re the one allowed to change them when you need to if you think it's for the better. They call it editing.” He started taking long strides around the room. “Do you think I came up with this décor? He pointed a finger at me. “You need to do something about your decorating style. Do a little research, for heavens sake!” He paused a moment, looked down and took a cleansing breath. I could see him gather his composure and looking up he turned back to me and said, “The movers will come in to re-arrange as soon as you get a few minutes to decide what stays and what goes.”
“Movers? I said.
He shook his head sadly and as if explaining to a small child he said,“Yes. You have to do something about that swing, don’t you think?”
I glanced over at it. “Well, yes. It doesn’t exactly have a place here does it.”
He only crossed his arms and shook his head.
I got up and was turning to let myself out.
He called out to me and said, “And watch out for those unexpected characters.”
I turned, “What unexpected characters?”
“The one’s that show up when you least expect and turn your plot around.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I nodded. So, Erik…um Nick. Thank you. But do you think you could tell me the one rule?" I pleaded.
He grinned broadly and said, “You already know.” He shook his head again and spread both hands palms up. “You have to write.”
I keep trying to make it more than that.
TT
I walked down the long corridor. It was so narrow I was almost claustrophobic. I could barely see the doorway at the end and it took me a while to reach it. I finally put my hand on the knob, made a quick twist and pulled the door open. I wasn't expecting the immense space just inside. A small foyer was framed with a high archway leading into the main room. There were several grouped seating areas and floor to ceiling windows covered with rich, cream and red chintz draperies. I was slightly confused by the furniture. It was a hodge-podge of expensive antiques mixed with modern black lacquered pieces and thrift store cast-offs. It was more flamboyant than I was expecting. Without a doubt, the pink feather swing hanging in one corner seemed to be the most misplaced piece in the entire space. I was greeted from...I'm not sure where...by a tall, thin Nordic featured man poking my shoulder. I looked up as I turned to face a startling pair of blue eyes beaming down on me and a pair of lips with an upward lift.
He took my hand and enveloped it between both his and led me to one of the seating areas as he murmured, "Theresa, it is so good to meet you. My name is Erik." He waited for me to sit before seating himself in a large coffee colored leather chair. He crossed his long legs, sat back and with a bent elbow rested his chin and cheekbone against his thumb and index finger.
I fidgeted slightly and finally stated, “I wanted to take a few minutes to talk to you about the rules of writing.”
“The rules of writing,” he repeated, without moving.
“Yes,” I said cautiously.
He nodded slightly and said, “Okay. Go ahead.”
I nervously cleared my throat and said, “Well... I guess I want to know all of them.”
“All of them. There is only one.”
“Only one?” I inquired.
“No? he questioned. Well, then. There are 9 million point 5."
“Nine million five? Are you kidding me? Which is it? That's a big difference.”
“How many do you want?”
“All of them!” I said emphatically.
“There's one.”
“One!”
“Or anywhere from 1 to 9 million five."
“What?! Wait a minute. How can that be?"
“How many do you need?” he asked.
“They’re your rules. I’m just trying to follow them.” I said desperately.
“Then there is only one.”
I slumped back into the chair. “Okay then, I give up. What is the one rule, Erik?”
He leaned forward as if to whisper a secret and said, “Call me Nick.”
“What?”
“My name is Nick.”
I leaned in toward him. “I thought you told me your name was Erik.”
“You didn't like it so you changed it. That was the name you used for me in the first draft.”
“I changed it? The first draft? What are you talking about? Let's get real here.”
“Get real? he said perplexed. This is fiction! I thought you knew that.”
“Well, yes. I, I...but”
“But, nothing. You make the rules.” He threw up his hands and stood up. “You’re the one allowed to change them when you need to if you think it's for the better. They call it editing.” He started taking long strides around the room. “Do you think I came up with this décor? He pointed a finger at me. “You need to do something about your decorating style. Do a little research, for heavens sake!” He paused a moment, looked down and took a cleansing breath. I could see him gather his composure and looking up he turned back to me and said, “The movers will come in to re-arrange as soon as you get a few minutes to decide what stays and what goes.”
“Movers? I said.
He shook his head sadly and as if explaining to a small child he said,“Yes. You have to do something about that swing, don’t you think?”
I glanced over at it. “Well, yes. It doesn’t exactly have a place here does it.”
He only crossed his arms and shook his head.
I got up and was turning to let myself out.
He called out to me and said, “And watch out for those unexpected characters.”
I turned, “What unexpected characters?”
“The one’s that show up when you least expect and turn your plot around.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I nodded. So, Erik…um Nick. Thank you. But do you think you could tell me the one rule?" I pleaded.
He grinned broadly and said, “You already know.” He shook his head again and spread both hands palms up. “You have to write.”
I keep trying to make it more than that.
TT
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
MJ
I went to lunch later than my normal late yesterday. I had an issue at my desk that turned into a forty-five minute delay. By the time I finally left my desk, the café was closed so I went out and grabbed something quick and brought it back to the break room at work to eat. The television was on CNN and they were broadcasting the last few minutes of the Michael Jackson Memorial Service at the Staples Center. I found a table and watched.
It reminded me of a young toddler of two who had just moved from a small town to the big city with his mom and dad. His dad was traveling the first weekend they moved, so mom and young son headed out to explore and see what the city had to offer without breaking their small and very modest bank account. It turned into an afternoon of pizza, ice cream, and the purchase of a Michael Jackson album. It was the Thriller album. You know, where the not yet King of Pop is lying across the front of the album in a white suit and black dress shirt. It was the start of a love of music and dance by a young boy whose initials were also MJ. It didn't take long for you to find him standing in front of the TV watching that video and push up to stand on his toes. The young boy was surprisingly unafraid of the video when the star morph’s into a werewolf and that was the Halloween costume he chose to wear that year. He would imitate the moves and call himself by his initials. He learned all the lyrics and would play it over and again without getting weary of hearing it. The young boy grew and other albums were purchased by the famous MJ and many other artists.
Soon, the young boy was no longer so young and had left Michael Jackson behind. He never lost his interest in music but had gone on to discover another interest by another superstar with the MJ initials...like the young man. This new MJ was Michael Jordan and basketball had taken the new center stage for the young man whose initials were also MJ. It was a driving force for this young man for a good many years. It still is. I know he still grabs games when he can and yes, he still listens to all kinds of music.
While watching the memorial service, I thought it interesting that an album purchased so very long ago would have such an impact on such a young and small individual. It is interesting that the album purchased is the best selling album of all time with 50 million sold. I thought it was interesting that this artist’s memorial service was at the Staples Center where, I am sure, another significant influence in this child’s life had played more than a few games of basketball. I thought it interesting that all three go by the initials MJ.
Now, one is gone, one no longer plays, and one is now an adult that would never be considered a small town boy. I need to make a call to that adult that was once a two year old in a new city to dig in and find out what his memories are. Life keeps churning.
TT
It reminded me of a young toddler of two who had just moved from a small town to the big city with his mom and dad. His dad was traveling the first weekend they moved, so mom and young son headed out to explore and see what the city had to offer without breaking their small and very modest bank account. It turned into an afternoon of pizza, ice cream, and the purchase of a Michael Jackson album. It was the Thriller album. You know, where the not yet King of Pop is lying across the front of the album in a white suit and black dress shirt. It was the start of a love of music and dance by a young boy whose initials were also MJ. It didn't take long for you to find him standing in front of the TV watching that video and push up to stand on his toes. The young boy was surprisingly unafraid of the video when the star morph’s into a werewolf and that was the Halloween costume he chose to wear that year. He would imitate the moves and call himself by his initials. He learned all the lyrics and would play it over and again without getting weary of hearing it. The young boy grew and other albums were purchased by the famous MJ and many other artists.
Soon, the young boy was no longer so young and had left Michael Jackson behind. He never lost his interest in music but had gone on to discover another interest by another superstar with the MJ initials...like the young man. This new MJ was Michael Jordan and basketball had taken the new center stage for the young man whose initials were also MJ. It was a driving force for this young man for a good many years. It still is. I know he still grabs games when he can and yes, he still listens to all kinds of music.
While watching the memorial service, I thought it interesting that an album purchased so very long ago would have such an impact on such a young and small individual. It is interesting that the album purchased is the best selling album of all time with 50 million sold. I thought it was interesting that this artist’s memorial service was at the Staples Center where, I am sure, another significant influence in this child’s life had played more than a few games of basketball. I thought it interesting that all three go by the initials MJ.
Now, one is gone, one no longer plays, and one is now an adult that would never be considered a small town boy. I need to make a call to that adult that was once a two year old in a new city to dig in and find out what his memories are. Life keeps churning.
TT
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Opportunity, not missed
It rained yesterday evening. It was a good hard rain, not just thready, dark clouds with a teasing sense of humor. It tried to begin that way, with some bluster and wind and it took a while to get its nerve up but it finally let loose and came down. It was pleasantly unexpected.
I was forty-five minutes into my gym class when I noticed the sky going dark. I wasn't overly concerned since that doesn't usually mean anything around here. I figured I could finish up the class and still make it out in time before (if anything) happened. I watched the window as I kept up with the instructor and noticed the wind had picked up. That was a true warning sign since once that happens it usually means its going to come down and quickly. I grabbed my bag and sped out of class. I had left the top down on the car and the rain was threatening big time now. Needless to say, I drove all the way home (top up) and not a single drop fell.
I had gotten well past my shower and dinner before I heard it actually start up. The rain. It was raining. You might not understand the allure of such a thing. It doesn't seem to happen all that often around here. We need it, probably more than other places, but we don't get it. It is almost spiritual when it happens. We will all sit on our stoops and watch. And that's what I did. I went outside and watched the rain come down. I breathed in all the flavor and smell and taste of it. It was threatening and peaceful and the ground swallowed it up in huge enormous gulps. I watched mesmerized, hypnotized by the streaks of wet slicing through the sky.
I didn't wait for it to stop before I went back inside. I could hear it in yet another way from my window. It sounded different. I couldn't see it the same way. It was muted and in the distance but still a presence you couldn't ignore. I didn't really want to ignore it. I'm not even sure when it stopped. Long after I had gone to bed I awoke to hear it again. It was really early morning but too early to get up. I realized I was parched and drank down more than half of the bottled water I keep handy as the rain pounded down. Sated, I snuggled back down in bed and let the rain lull me back to sleep for the short hour before I would need to get back up again. It was a tranquil way to slip back and away. It was a restful hour that blanked my mind, leaving it open to gather something new and fresh.
Doesn't life have such great ways to give me opportunities to see things again? I guess it's been doing it so long it knows all the different ways. I just need to keep paying attention.
TT
I was forty-five minutes into my gym class when I noticed the sky going dark. I wasn't overly concerned since that doesn't usually mean anything around here. I figured I could finish up the class and still make it out in time before (if anything) happened. I watched the window as I kept up with the instructor and noticed the wind had picked up. That was a true warning sign since once that happens it usually means its going to come down and quickly. I grabbed my bag and sped out of class. I had left the top down on the car and the rain was threatening big time now. Needless to say, I drove all the way home (top up) and not a single drop fell.
I had gotten well past my shower and dinner before I heard it actually start up. The rain. It was raining. You might not understand the allure of such a thing. It doesn't seem to happen all that often around here. We need it, probably more than other places, but we don't get it. It is almost spiritual when it happens. We will all sit on our stoops and watch. And that's what I did. I went outside and watched the rain come down. I breathed in all the flavor and smell and taste of it. It was threatening and peaceful and the ground swallowed it up in huge enormous gulps. I watched mesmerized, hypnotized by the streaks of wet slicing through the sky.
I didn't wait for it to stop before I went back inside. I could hear it in yet another way from my window. It sounded different. I couldn't see it the same way. It was muted and in the distance but still a presence you couldn't ignore. I didn't really want to ignore it. I'm not even sure when it stopped. Long after I had gone to bed I awoke to hear it again. It was really early morning but too early to get up. I realized I was parched and drank down more than half of the bottled water I keep handy as the rain pounded down. Sated, I snuggled back down in bed and let the rain lull me back to sleep for the short hour before I would need to get back up again. It was a tranquil way to slip back and away. It was a restful hour that blanked my mind, leaving it open to gather something new and fresh.
Doesn't life have such great ways to give me opportunities to see things again? I guess it's been doing it so long it knows all the different ways. I just need to keep paying attention.
TT
Monday, July 6, 2009
I'm taking it
There are more than a few trainers that will tell you to workout first thing in the morning. The idea is to get up early, throw on you workout clothes and hit the gym before all else. They will tell you the many benefits of doing this at the beginning of your day. They will tell you how accomplishing this early will give you a smaller chance of skipping it or talking yourself out of it later in the day when you get busy, tired, non-committed. I think they are trying to get people to do it before they are alert enough to argue themselves out of it. I've even heard (what I think are fabricated motivations) that early in the morning is a good time to burn fat. Isn't any time a good time to burn fat? At least I always thought so.
As you might have guessed, I'm one of the few people that are alert enough in the morning to not fall for this ploy. I will admit I have tried to work out first thing - early in the morning before work. It doesn't work for me. Instead of making me feel accomplished and energized, I'm sapped out and exhausted the rest of the day. I thought it might have been because of the routine change so I tried again and again with no difference in the results. I was still exhausted but then I was also stressed. I was becoming increasingly stressed because I would find that somehow I would always forget an article of clothing I would need for the day, like underwear. I can tell you that will throw off your day no matter how much extra fat you might have burned! So what the experts told me didn't work for me. I work out after work. What I have managed to do is get myself dressed in the mornings for work and get these small posts written. It may not be the ideal for some and I don't think there is a lot of fat burning involved but at least I still have that feeling of daily accomplishment. I also have relieved some stress by not having to worry about leaving the house without certain articles of clothing.
Today, I am writing my post this morning with thoughts of new organization in mind. I might not be able to do exactly as the experts agree is the best way but I will find a best way for me. I know it has caused me more than a few soggy moments when I realize I just can't do things the way most are able to. I know I will have a few trial and error attempts, routine change-ups, and frantic missed sessions coming up but I will try to continue my physical work outs after work, but add the much desired stab at writing in the evenings. One book said 500 words a day...just 500. It doesn't even have to be about your project. But I need to do it daily. I've been doing this almost daily (although not 500 words) so it's good to know my instincts were right about something.
Today, I am writing my post this morning with thoughts of new organization in mind. I might not be able to do exactly as the experts agree is the best way but I will find a best way for me. I know it has caused me more than a few soggy moments when I realize I just can't do things the way most are able to. I know I will have a few trial and error attempts, routine change-ups, and frantic missed sessions coming up but I will try to continue my physical work outs after work, but add the much desired stab at writing in the evenings. One book said 500 words a day...just 500. It doesn't even have to be about your project. But I need to do it daily. I've been doing this almost daily (although not 500 words) so it's good to know my instincts were right about something.
I'll take what I can get and go from there.
TT
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Getting past
I have been going through my writing notes. Some of them are pertaining to my project and some are just quick, short clips of ideas or dialogue. I have to admit it's made me smile just a bit. Some are not so bad. Of course, they are only quick, short notes and not an entire thought or attached to anything. They might be something I use later or something that never gets used anywhere. But it's good to go through them. I'm still looking for a few I must have somewhere. They weren't in the spot I thought I had left them. Hopefully, I haven't pitched them in the trash unknowingly or on purpose. I have a tendency to pitch stuff. I don't have a lot of tolerance for things sometimes and if I get the notion in my head that it's not worth keeping I'll pitch it, no second thoughts. Sometimes the things I believe are not worth keeping are not the same as other people’s ideas of what's worth keeping. Come on, that's not surprising for you to believe about me, now, is it? This is especially true if the things are mine, or something that I have done that I have deemed inferior. I don't think I've missed anything so far and even if I did...well, its gone now isn't it? So I have managed to get myself organized on getting started again. I'm even looking forward to it. I have to be careful about my level of self criticism. Jay was all over me about that. It rears its ugly little head more often than not and I don't seem to have a real perspective on it when I do it to myself. It really does go beyond. I know it does but I can't seem to lower my own expectations to a normal level. I just don't see it for myself. It becomes totally smeared or like looking thru a greasy, filmed window. It just isn't a clear picture and I get hung up on it until someone drags me away and says, "What’s wrong with you!" But I don't know. I really don't know. I should be better at this or at that.
I guess I am only mentioning my lack of personal perception to remind myself that I will try not to allow it to stop me. I don't quite understand why I can't let some of these things I think about myself go. I need to remember to let myself just go ahead and try. I'm going to push forward and make some progress in something I want to do. It’s something that I am scared and excited about all at the same time. It’s something that I already have started and have notes and ideas about that finally feel like they could possibly come out.
I'm going to allow myself to get past myself if that is at all possible. Maybe I’ll have a body of work by the time I figure out if I can or can’t do that. By then, I’ll already be on my way.
TT
I guess I am only mentioning my lack of personal perception to remind myself that I will try not to allow it to stop me. I don't quite understand why I can't let some of these things I think about myself go. I need to remember to let myself just go ahead and try. I'm going to push forward and make some progress in something I want to do. It’s something that I am scared and excited about all at the same time. It’s something that I already have started and have notes and ideas about that finally feel like they could possibly come out.
I'm going to allow myself to get past myself if that is at all possible. Maybe I’ll have a body of work by the time I figure out if I can or can’t do that. By then, I’ll already be on my way.
TT
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Passionate tears
I have been doing more than some hard thinking about my writing. I've known I wanted to get back to a major project that I've had in my head for quite some time. I had to take a break from it but the time seems to be right again. I am so terrified. I have been meandering down this path to get back to this project for a while but my utter fear has stopped me.
I'm not a timid person. I was standing at the printer at work last week when someone came up to me unexpectedly and said, "I know the one word that would describe you." I turned to them with what I know must have been a confused look on my face. There were two hundred different words screeching to a halt, slamming into one another like a 200 hundred car pile up on the highway running through my mind. I first thought about the person telling me this and what they must think, then why would they think about it? This all happening in the course of 1 maybe 2 seconds. They said the word to describe me was edgy. I guess from the look that had been on my face they went on to say it was a good thing. I was edgy in how I dressed, the car I drove, the music I listened to, the way I talked and presented my views. It was a good thing. So I don't think timid would weigh in very heavily for me being so scared. But I am scared and so I proceeded to try to learn more about it to dispel the ignorance and gather some knowledge which would hopefully eliminate some of the fear.
I picked up a book on writing that I have been taking my time reading through. Maybe it was just my dark moods lately, but should you really be brought to tears when there are sections that describe your feelings about writing so blatantly across the page? I'd like to think it's just my passion for something I want so desperately to do that would charge me up so. I'd like to think it was luck that the book I bought would tell me it's exactly okay to do the things I've been doing, that I've been on the right track, just do this now and that, but keep doing it. Keep on doing it. But I can't even say buying this book was luck. I remember going to the bookstore after researching several, my little list in hand. I remember pulling a variety of writing books off the shelves and scanning through and reading parts from many. I finally spotted the one title at the top of my research list high on a shelf I couldn't reach. I looked to the sides of the shelf and saw a young man sitting on a step stool. He must have been watching me because as soon as I looked over at him he got up and brought the stool over. He got on the stool and pulled the book for me as I pointed out the one I wanted to him from below. I am so oblivious sometimes when I'm focused on something. I'm trying to be a writer and should notice these things! But it sometimes backfires on me and I become the attention instead of me blending and being able to watch it.
So, I'm trying.
I hard copied my project and notes I had taken about it. I'm going to just try. I'm going to reread the book I have and go out and get another.
There was a note to myself at the top of my page of notes dated 3/29/08 saying...so I'll will get off my own back! So I'm going forward and will try.
Dang!
TT
I'm not a timid person. I was standing at the printer at work last week when someone came up to me unexpectedly and said, "I know the one word that would describe you." I turned to them with what I know must have been a confused look on my face. There were two hundred different words screeching to a halt, slamming into one another like a 200 hundred car pile up on the highway running through my mind. I first thought about the person telling me this and what they must think, then why would they think about it? This all happening in the course of 1 maybe 2 seconds. They said the word to describe me was edgy. I guess from the look that had been on my face they went on to say it was a good thing. I was edgy in how I dressed, the car I drove, the music I listened to, the way I talked and presented my views. It was a good thing. So I don't think timid would weigh in very heavily for me being so scared. But I am scared and so I proceeded to try to learn more about it to dispel the ignorance and gather some knowledge which would hopefully eliminate some of the fear.
I picked up a book on writing that I have been taking my time reading through. Maybe it was just my dark moods lately, but should you really be brought to tears when there are sections that describe your feelings about writing so blatantly across the page? I'd like to think it's just my passion for something I want so desperately to do that would charge me up so. I'd like to think it was luck that the book I bought would tell me it's exactly okay to do the things I've been doing, that I've been on the right track, just do this now and that, but keep doing it. Keep on doing it. But I can't even say buying this book was luck. I remember going to the bookstore after researching several, my little list in hand. I remember pulling a variety of writing books off the shelves and scanning through and reading parts from many. I finally spotted the one title at the top of my research list high on a shelf I couldn't reach. I looked to the sides of the shelf and saw a young man sitting on a step stool. He must have been watching me because as soon as I looked over at him he got up and brought the stool over. He got on the stool and pulled the book for me as I pointed out the one I wanted to him from below. I am so oblivious sometimes when I'm focused on something. I'm trying to be a writer and should notice these things! But it sometimes backfires on me and I become the attention instead of me blending and being able to watch it.
So, I'm trying.
I hard copied my project and notes I had taken about it. I'm going to just try. I'm going to reread the book I have and go out and get another.
There was a note to myself at the top of my page of notes dated 3/29/08 saying...so I'll will get off my own back! So I'm going forward and will try.
Dang!
TT
Friday, July 3, 2009
Nothing stuck
Here I am again with this blank page. It always seems to have a need for me to put something on it. I was thinking I would be able to come up with something more today, something better, since I was off and ideas kept swirling around in my head. I was trying to be more open minded about what I could possibly come up with. Unfortunely, the ideas just swirled and nothing seemed to light. It hasn't seemed to have worked, or maybe I'm just attempting too soon. Maybe.
Maybe I should leave it alone since I'm supposed to be off today anyway. I finished a pile of other things I wanted to get done...and I could fit in a few more now. Any rational person would probably agree to leave it.
Rational...keyword.
TT
Maybe I should leave it alone since I'm supposed to be off today anyway. I finished a pile of other things I wanted to get done...and I could fit in a few more now. Any rational person would probably agree to leave it.
Rational...keyword.
TT
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Outlook is good
It's amazing. I am amazed. I'm happy and amazed that I can be. Am I allowed to say that so loud? Will it jinx the whole mess? Quiet, careful...say it too loud it will all go away. But it won't. Believe me or well, don't believe me. It doesn't matter if you believe it or not as long as I do. It doesn't seem to go away. Oh, I'm not saying there aren't bad spots. I could go back on these posts alone and see where the darker places have been traveled through. There are many more that I haven't ever gotten close to mentioning here (and won't). But it seems to be a good balance if you take it all into consideration. I really think if you appreciate the good things that come along, even the fleetingly small good things, you find that amazing feeling of hmmm, not too bad. Doesn't it make sense that if you can feel so bad, you should also be able to feel that same level of good? If you let it happen? If you pay it attention?
I mean, come on. I know I give the bad when it happens, no matter how small, a lot of attention. A lot. Too much. So why shouldn't I do the same when the little good things happen too? Fair play and all. Besides, I am finding that when I do that, the bad doesn't get as much play time. And that's a good thing. But it's still a work in progress. Always. It's too easy to let the bad get it all. I'm trying to be more conscience of stepping away from the bad when it tries to present itself and moving more quickly toward the good.
Wait, I guess I could have just said I'm feeling pretty good this morning. I could have, couldn't I?
TT
I mean, come on. I know I give the bad when it happens, no matter how small, a lot of attention. A lot. Too much. So why shouldn't I do the same when the little good things happen too? Fair play and all. Besides, I am finding that when I do that, the bad doesn't get as much play time. And that's a good thing. But it's still a work in progress. Always. It's too easy to let the bad get it all. I'm trying to be more conscience of stepping away from the bad when it tries to present itself and moving more quickly toward the good.
Wait, I guess I could have just said I'm feeling pretty good this morning. I could have, couldn't I?
TT
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Back
I've had a cup of coffee and scanned through my frivolous emails. I'm not sure what day it is since I'm now back after a few days away. But that's fine - that's okay. I know I'll have more than a few frivolous emails waiting for me at work.
The days off weren't enough. It was too short. I can actually admit to that but I'm glad to be back home. There are really a lot of things I need to get done around here. So many things I can do. I'm refraining from saying it's a new month and all that...I know I said pretty much the same at the beginning of last month. I keep repeating myself. How boring. But not bored. At least not me. So I just remembered I have some laundry I need to fold in the dryer...then probably off to work...well...maybe one more cup of coffee.
TT
The days off weren't enough. It was too short. I can actually admit to that but I'm glad to be back home. There are really a lot of things I need to get done around here. So many things I can do. I'm refraining from saying it's a new month and all that...I know I said pretty much the same at the beginning of last month. I keep repeating myself. How boring. But not bored. At least not me. So I just remembered I have some laundry I need to fold in the dryer...then probably off to work...well...maybe one more cup of coffee.
TT
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