Use these lyrics from songs by Ryan Adams as prompts!
"If I could I'd fold myself away like a card table." -- from "Oh My God, Whatever, Etc."
"But the light of the moon leads the way to the morning." -- from "Oh My God, Whatever, Etc."
"Its a little too late for goodbyes. Good morning. Open your eyes." -- from "Rip Off"
"Treasures that s he misses makes the man." -- from "Bartering Lines"
"You and I together, but only one of us is in love." -- from "Everybody Knows"
"Everything she says, oh, I've heard it all before." -- from "Two Hearts"
"Like a bad idea on a beautiful day." -- from "Two Hearts"
"Three words is all it takes to break your heart in two." -- from "Two Hearts"
"When they smile I get hypnotized and wanna go to bed." -- from "These Girls"
"I've been stranded on the doorstep." -- from "These Girls"
"We are only one push from the nest" - from "The Sun Also Sets"
"Sunset's just my lightbulb burning out." - from "Oh My Sweet Carolina"
"All the sweetest winds, they blow across the South." -- from "Oh My Sweet Carolina"
Monday, September 21, 2009
Quotes for Prompts
Here's a few writing prompts in the form of quotes and poetic lines:
"The moment a little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing." - Eric Berne, psychiatrist
"I dreamed a knife like a song you can't whistle." - Frank Stanford, "The Singing Knives"
"Which failure cannot cast down nor success make proud." - Robinson Jeffers, "Rock and Hawk"
"...at night he remembers freedom And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it." - Robinson Jeffers, "Hurt Hawks"
"I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk." - Robinson Jeffers, "Hurt Hawks"
"We are safe to finish what we have to finish." - Robinson Jeffers, "The Bed By The Window"
"Be angry at the sun for setting." - Robinson Jeffers, "Be Angry at the Sun for Setting"
"Stark violence is still the sire of all the world's values." - Robinson Jeffers, "The Bloody Sire"
"Old violence is not too old to beget new values." - Robinson Jeffers, "The Bloody Sire"
"wore down on their wings" - Robinson Jeffers, "Their Beauty Has More Meaning"
Quotes to inspire creative writing... These quotes were used in February 2008's Free Will Astrology's website. Use ones that inspire you to write. Very Valentine-themed.
Sir Francis Bacon: "There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion."
Elizabeth Barret Browning: "Earth's crammed with heaven."
"The air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy. The merest whisper of your name awakes in me a shuddering sixth sense. I am longing for a kiss that makes time stand still." (The preceding testimony is a blend of words from Edgar Allan Poe, Pamela Moore, and John Keats.)
Henri Nouwen: "Your body needs to be held and to hold, to be touched and to touch. None of these needs is to be despised, denied, or repressed. But you have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity."
George Bernard Shaw: "You are my inspiration and my folly. You are my light across the sea, my million nameless joys, and my day's wage. You are my divinity, my madness, my selfishness, my transfiguration and purification. You are my rapscallionly fellow vagabond, my tempter and star. I want you."
Tom Robbins: "We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love."
"truths in their wild state" (philosopher Gilles Deleuze's phrase)
Richard Moss: "The greatest gift you can give another is the purity of your attention."
Paul Tillich: "The first duty of love is to listen."
Scholar Suzanne Juhasz says that Emily Dickinson's eroticism "inflects and charges" most of her poems. "Erotic desire -- sensuous, nuanced, flagrant, extreme, outlandish, and profound -- is her way of interacting with the world."
Andrew Varnon: "Be my ruckus, my perfect non-sequitur. Be my circuit-breaker, my lengthening shadows at dusk, my nest of pine needles, my second-story window. Be my if-you-stare-long-enough-you'll-see. Be my subatomic particle. Be my backbeat, my key of C minor, my surly apostle, my scandalous reparté, my maximum payload. Be my simmering, seething, flickering, radiating, shimmering, and undulating."
"The Eskimos had 52 names for snow because it was important to them," wrote novelist Margaret Atwood. "There ought to be as many for love."
"delirium of solutions" (William Carlos Williams' phrase)
Leo Tolstoy: "Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love."
Charles Caleb Colton: "If you cannot inspire a woman with love of you, fill her above the brim with love of herself; all that runs over will be yours."
"One should always be in love," said Oscar Wilde.
South African poet Shabbir Banoobhai: "Love is a mystery. And the reason why it is a mystery and should remain a mystery is that knowledge of it would give us mastery over it -- would enable us to manipulate it -- and love, truth, God, cannot be manipulated. Hence the Prophet exclaimed, 'My Lord, increase my bewilderment in Thee.'"
Teilhard de Chardin: "Some day after we have mastered the winds, the waves and gravity," said de Chardin, "we will harness for God the energies of love; and then for a second time in the history of the world, humans will have discovered fire."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery: "Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but looking outward together in the same direction."
Marge Piercy in her poem "The Real Hearth": "Let's heat up the night to a boil. Let's cook every drop of liquid out of our flesh till we sizzle, not a drop of come left. We are pots on too high a flame. Our insides char and flake dark like sinister snow idling down. We breathe out smoke. We die out and sleep covers us in ashes. We lie without dreaming, empty as clean grates. Yet we wake rebuilt, clattering and hungry as waterfalls leaping off, rushing into the day, roaring our bright intentions. It is the old riddle in the Yiddish song, what can burn and not burn up, a passion that gives birth to itself every day."
Thoreau: "There is no remedy for love but to love more"
Pascal: "If you do not love too much, you do not love enough."
W. Somerset Maugham: "We are not the same person this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person."
Iris Murdoch: "People often start by falling in love, and they go on for years without realizing that love must change into some other love which is unlike the original."
Ursula K. Le Guin: "Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new."
Andre Maurois: "A successful marriage is an edifice that must be rebuilt every day."
Ezra Pound: "What thou lovest well remains,/ the rest is dross/ What thou lov'st well shall not be reft of thee/ What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage. . .
Pablo Neruda, "Love Sonnet XI": "I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps . . . [I] hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond . . . I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes. And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens . . . ."
Turkish proverb: "To prepare for love, learn to run through snow, leaving no footprints."
Italian proverb: "Love rules without rules."
Sark: "Love imperfectly. Be a love idiot. Let yourself forget any love ideal."
Carl Sandburg: "Love asks you beautiful, unanswerable questions."
Franz Rosenzweig: "Love brings to life whatever is dead around us."
Rainer Maria Rilke: "Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
Erma Freesman: "Love is the only game where two can play and both win."
Pablo Neruda: "Love is like a well in the wilderness where time watches over the wandering lightning."
Marnie Reed Crowell: "To keep a fire burning brightly," she says, "Keep the two logs together, near enough to keep each other warm and far enough apart -- about a finger's breadth -- for breathing room. Good fire, good marriage, same rule."
"The moment a little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing." - Eric Berne, psychiatrist
"I dreamed a knife like a song you can't whistle." - Frank Stanford, "The Singing Knives"
"Which failure cannot cast down nor success make proud." - Robinson Jeffers, "Rock and Hawk"
"...at night he remembers freedom And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it." - Robinson Jeffers, "Hurt Hawks"
"I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk." - Robinson Jeffers, "Hurt Hawks"
"We are safe to finish what we have to finish." - Robinson Jeffers, "The Bed By The Window"
"Be angry at the sun for setting." - Robinson Jeffers, "Be Angry at the Sun for Setting"
"Stark violence is still the sire of all the world's values." - Robinson Jeffers, "The Bloody Sire"
"Old violence is not too old to beget new values." - Robinson Jeffers, "The Bloody Sire"
"wore down on their wings" - Robinson Jeffers, "Their Beauty Has More Meaning"
Quotes to inspire creative writing... These quotes were used in February 2008's Free Will Astrology's website. Use ones that inspire you to write. Very Valentine-themed.
Sir Francis Bacon: "There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion."
Elizabeth Barret Browning: "Earth's crammed with heaven."
"The air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy. The merest whisper of your name awakes in me a shuddering sixth sense. I am longing for a kiss that makes time stand still." (The preceding testimony is a blend of words from Edgar Allan Poe, Pamela Moore, and John Keats.)
Henri Nouwen: "Your body needs to be held and to hold, to be touched and to touch. None of these needs is to be despised, denied, or repressed. But you have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity."
George Bernard Shaw: "You are my inspiration and my folly. You are my light across the sea, my million nameless joys, and my day's wage. You are my divinity, my madness, my selfishness, my transfiguration and purification. You are my rapscallionly fellow vagabond, my tempter and star. I want you."
Tom Robbins: "We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love."
"truths in their wild state" (philosopher Gilles Deleuze's phrase)
Richard Moss: "The greatest gift you can give another is the purity of your attention."
Paul Tillich: "The first duty of love is to listen."
Scholar Suzanne Juhasz says that Emily Dickinson's eroticism "inflects and charges" most of her poems. "Erotic desire -- sensuous, nuanced, flagrant, extreme, outlandish, and profound -- is her way of interacting with the world."
Andrew Varnon: "Be my ruckus, my perfect non-sequitur. Be my circuit-breaker, my lengthening shadows at dusk, my nest of pine needles, my second-story window. Be my if-you-stare-long-enough-you'll-see. Be my subatomic particle. Be my backbeat, my key of C minor, my surly apostle, my scandalous reparté, my maximum payload. Be my simmering, seething, flickering, radiating, shimmering, and undulating."
"The Eskimos had 52 names for snow because it was important to them," wrote novelist Margaret Atwood. "There ought to be as many for love."
"delirium of solutions" (William Carlos Williams' phrase)
Leo Tolstoy: "Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love."
Charles Caleb Colton: "If you cannot inspire a woman with love of you, fill her above the brim with love of herself; all that runs over will be yours."
"One should always be in love," said Oscar Wilde.
South African poet Shabbir Banoobhai: "Love is a mystery. And the reason why it is a mystery and should remain a mystery is that knowledge of it would give us mastery over it -- would enable us to manipulate it -- and love, truth, God, cannot be manipulated. Hence the Prophet exclaimed, 'My Lord, increase my bewilderment in Thee.'"
Teilhard de Chardin: "Some day after we have mastered the winds, the waves and gravity," said de Chardin, "we will harness for God the energies of love; and then for a second time in the history of the world, humans will have discovered fire."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery: "Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but looking outward together in the same direction."
Marge Piercy in her poem "The Real Hearth": "Let's heat up the night to a boil. Let's cook every drop of liquid out of our flesh till we sizzle, not a drop of come left. We are pots on too high a flame. Our insides char and flake dark like sinister snow idling down. We breathe out smoke. We die out and sleep covers us in ashes. We lie without dreaming, empty as clean grates. Yet we wake rebuilt, clattering and hungry as waterfalls leaping off, rushing into the day, roaring our bright intentions. It is the old riddle in the Yiddish song, what can burn and not burn up, a passion that gives birth to itself every day."
Thoreau: "There is no remedy for love but to love more"
Pascal: "If you do not love too much, you do not love enough."
W. Somerset Maugham: "We are not the same person this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person."
Iris Murdoch: "People often start by falling in love, and they go on for years without realizing that love must change into some other love which is unlike the original."
Ursula K. Le Guin: "Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new."
Andre Maurois: "A successful marriage is an edifice that must be rebuilt every day."
Ezra Pound: "What thou lovest well remains,/ the rest is dross/ What thou lov'st well shall not be reft of thee/ What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage. . .
Pablo Neruda, "Love Sonnet XI": "I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps . . . [I] hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond . . . I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes. And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens . . . ."
Turkish proverb: "To prepare for love, learn to run through snow, leaving no footprints."
Italian proverb: "Love rules without rules."
Sark: "Love imperfectly. Be a love idiot. Let yourself forget any love ideal."
Carl Sandburg: "Love asks you beautiful, unanswerable questions."
Franz Rosenzweig: "Love brings to life whatever is dead around us."
Rainer Maria Rilke: "Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
Erma Freesman: "Love is the only game where two can play and both win."
Pablo Neruda: "Love is like a well in the wilderness where time watches over the wandering lightning."
Marnie Reed Crowell: "To keep a fire burning brightly," she says, "Keep the two logs together, near enough to keep each other warm and far enough apart -- about a finger's breadth -- for breathing room. Good fire, good marriage, same rule."
Lies, Half-truths, and Truths
With a group:
A. Give each person three slips of paper. Each person should write on the slips of paper the following:
1. one lie
2. one half-truth
3. one truth
B. Mix all the folded slips of paper in a bowl and let people pull three from the bowl. If you pull your own, place it back in the bowl. Writers should use one or all three of the statements (or the ideas the statement inspire) in their writing.
For one person:
A. Create the bowl of statements by following the instructions above but write six for each of the lies, half-truths, and truths. You may want to do this on one day and then use the prompts at a later date when you have forgotten all the statements you wrote for the bowl.
B. Pull three and use them as writing prompts for your writing this day.
OR use the below lies, half-truths, and truths written by me and my friends Michael, Vicky, Normandi, Alaina, Rhea, and Carol as prompts:
I am part dog.
Once, I found tulips that had ears.
I have squirrel blood in my veins.
Wine is the bane of her existence.
She was born with a banjo in her hands.
Two glasses of wine, a bar, and a long evening being sick.
I spent millions of dollars.
I held a hummingbird in my hands.
I once lived in a chicken house.
I'm rolling in dough!
I'm a meat and potatoes kind of girl/guy.
My glasses slide down my nose.
My softball coach began to stalk me.
My father was born dead but his grandmother brought him back to life.
I knew he was at the door before he knocked, so I crept out the back door.
My greatest dream is to join the circus.
I love working with kids, but I don't want any of my own.
I have a great family.
A. Give each person three slips of paper. Each person should write on the slips of paper the following:
1. one lie
2. one half-truth
3. one truth
B. Mix all the folded slips of paper in a bowl and let people pull three from the bowl. If you pull your own, place it back in the bowl. Writers should use one or all three of the statements (or the ideas the statement inspire) in their writing.
For one person:
A. Create the bowl of statements by following the instructions above but write six for each of the lies, half-truths, and truths. You may want to do this on one day and then use the prompts at a later date when you have forgotten all the statements you wrote for the bowl.
B. Pull three and use them as writing prompts for your writing this day.
OR use the below lies, half-truths, and truths written by me and my friends Michael, Vicky, Normandi, Alaina, Rhea, and Carol as prompts:
I am part dog.
Once, I found tulips that had ears.
I have squirrel blood in my veins.
Wine is the bane of her existence.
She was born with a banjo in her hands.
Two glasses of wine, a bar, and a long evening being sick.
I spent millions of dollars.
I held a hummingbird in my hands.
I once lived in a chicken house.
I'm rolling in dough!
I'm a meat and potatoes kind of girl/guy.
My glasses slide down my nose.
My softball coach began to stalk me.
My father was born dead but his grandmother brought him back to life.
I knew he was at the door before he knocked, so I crept out the back door.
My greatest dream is to join the circus.
I love working with kids, but I don't want any of my own.
I have a great family.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Insert this into your writing
1. A character thinks about a fear. This could be something practical, like the upcoming results of a medical test, or something vague and indefinite... Write their thoughts, or describe their thoughts through their actions.
2. Write a nonfiction or fiction scene that has a lot of people in it-- a crowd or a group. It could be a party, a church dinner, a class, a bar. Describe the scene using the people as part of the setting: colorful clothes, or a mass of unfamiliar faces, etc. Don't forget the sounds and smells as well as the visual details.
3. Put a knife in your piece of writing. If it is fiction, have someone set a table or find a hunting knife in the barn, etc. If you are writing memoir, consider your own experience with knives: scaling fish? polishing the silver? spreading peanut butter?
2. Write a nonfiction or fiction scene that has a lot of people in it-- a crowd or a group. It could be a party, a church dinner, a class, a bar. Describe the scene using the people as part of the setting: colorful clothes, or a mass of unfamiliar faces, etc. Don't forget the sounds and smells as well as the visual details.
3. Put a knife in your piece of writing. If it is fiction, have someone set a table or find a hunting knife in the barn, etc. If you are writing memoir, consider your own experience with knives: scaling fish? polishing the silver? spreading peanut butter?
Happy trigger prompt
Think of something that uplifts your spirit and write about it.
When you're walking at night and spy fireflies, does your bad mood seem to disappear momentarily? When you hear a train whistle does it make you wax nostalgic and feel suddenly happy, maybe even youthful? Does the feel of old rocky walls make you feel excited? Does freshly cut grass or the cold first snow awaken you? It could be all or any of your senses that has what I call a "happy trigger."
Write about it in detail. You may want to recall a specific moment and describe it in detail:
How did it uplift your spirits?
How did you feel afterwards?
How long did this feeling stay with you?
Do you go out to seek these encounters or wait for them to happen?
Have you ever told about these happy triggers to anyone else?
When you're walking at night and spy fireflies, does your bad mood seem to disappear momentarily? When you hear a train whistle does it make you wax nostalgic and feel suddenly happy, maybe even youthful? Does the feel of old rocky walls make you feel excited? Does freshly cut grass or the cold first snow awaken you? It could be all or any of your senses that has what I call a "happy trigger."
Write about it in detail. You may want to recall a specific moment and describe it in detail:
How did it uplift your spirits?
How did you feel afterwards?
How long did this feeling stay with you?
Do you go out to seek these encounters or wait for them to happen?
Have you ever told about these happy triggers to anyone else?
Grammar book prompts
Use any one or more of these sentences to prompt your writing...
There are no absolutes in human misery and things can always get worse.
How all things start.
Old whiskey bottles with their bleached labels lying on the wet rooftop.
The river talked all night in the shoals.
My life is ghastly, he told the grass.
The cottonwoods went by like rows of bone.
I have been waiting for you for hours.
Does your brother dance well?
Why are you sitting here alone in the dark?
A little bit of common glass sometimes glitters like a diamond.
I see the man in the moon.
Mr. Jones bought a knife for his little boy.
Buy a paper from this boy.
Of all beasts he learned the language.
The two strangers were really Jupiter and Mercury.
A shaft of song, a winged prayer.
Iris always wore a chain of raindrops for pearls, and a cloud for a robe.
Thor didn't weave this verdant roof.
The meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie deep for tears.
I met a little cottage girl...
What kind of word?
Just a word.
Whatever. Hush.
Whisper it in my ear.
- Borrowed from old grammar texts and primers. Contributed by Vicky H.
There are no absolutes in human misery and things can always get worse.
How all things start.
Old whiskey bottles with their bleached labels lying on the wet rooftop.
The river talked all night in the shoals.
My life is ghastly, he told the grass.
The cottonwoods went by like rows of bone.
I have been waiting for you for hours.
Does your brother dance well?
Why are you sitting here alone in the dark?
A little bit of common glass sometimes glitters like a diamond.
I see the man in the moon.
Mr. Jones bought a knife for his little boy.
Buy a paper from this boy.
Of all beasts he learned the language.
The two strangers were really Jupiter and Mercury.
A shaft of song, a winged prayer.
Iris always wore a chain of raindrops for pearls, and a cloud for a robe.
Thor didn't weave this verdant roof.
The meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie deep for tears.
I met a little cottage girl...
What kind of word?
Just a word.
Whatever. Hush.
Whisper it in my ear.
- Borrowed from old grammar texts and primers. Contributed by Vicky H.
Writing Prompts
Use one of these phrases as a jump start or let it inspire/remind you of something to write about.
Empty in the room of silent faces
Listening to his methodical hum
Silence was warm
There never was a fire
Splinter unrelenting
Pillow corner crushed in his fist
Silence and stillness
Afternoon afterglow
As if she were an extension of him
Sour whirlwind
Empty in the room of silent faces
Listening to his methodical hum
Silence was warm
There never was a fire
Splinter unrelenting
Pillow corner crushed in his fist
Silence and stillness
Afternoon afterglow
As if she were an extension of him
Sour whirlwind
Creative Writing Prompts
1. Write about a first time, ie, first time on a swing, on a bus, visit to a city, swimming in a creek, etc.
2. Write about a last time, ie, last time you talked with someone, last time went hiking, etc.
3. Write about something you don't recall about yourself but others retell the story about you.
4. "How _____ Behaves." Insert a word or phrase in the blank & write about it.
(example: song title by Feist, "How My Heart Behaves")
5.
"What rises high
springs from deep."
- Harry Brown, "To Tell the Truth"
FAMILY prompts
1. Do you have any aunts or uncles who never had any children? Tell about the impact they had on your life.
2. Who were you named after and what do you know about that person?
3. Introduce any pets you may have had or wished to have.
4. Introduce your siblings. Name the most endearing quality about each.
Writing Prompts: Use one or several to prompt your writing for a few minutes.
1. Describe yourself when you were a child of 8.
2. "I wish I could see..."
3. Setting: In a busy kitchen
4. Your character is on the roof and acting "strange"
2. Write about a last time, ie, last time you talked with someone, last time went hiking, etc.
3. Write about something you don't recall about yourself but others retell the story about you.
4. "How _____ Behaves." Insert a word or phrase in the blank & write about it.
(example: song title by Feist, "How My Heart Behaves")
5.
"What rises high
springs from deep."
- Harry Brown, "To Tell the Truth"
FAMILY prompts
1. Do you have any aunts or uncles who never had any children? Tell about the impact they had on your life.
2. Who were you named after and what do you know about that person?
3. Introduce any pets you may have had or wished to have.
4. Introduce your siblings. Name the most endearing quality about each.
Writing Prompts: Use one or several to prompt your writing for a few minutes.
1. Describe yourself when you were a child of 8.
2. "I wish I could see..."
3. Setting: In a busy kitchen
4. Your character is on the roof and acting "strange"
Quotes to remember
"We don't see things as they are; We see things as we are." ~ Anais Nin
“I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me.” ~Anais Nin
"Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh." ~ W.H. Auden
"There's no life
that couldn't be immortal
if only for a moment."
~ Wislawa Szymborska
"I keep coming back to you in my head, but you couldn't know that, and I have no carbons." ~ Adrienne Rich
"Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things."
~ Ray Bradbury
"Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book shown to him by heart, and his friends can only read the title." ~ Virginia Woolf
"You cannot find peace by avoiding life." ~ Virginia Woolf
"We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit." ~ e.e. cummings
"There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy and a tragedy." ~ Mark Twain
"The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom." ~ bell hooks
“We are ashamed of everything that is real about us; ashamed of ourselves, of our relatives, of our incomes, of our accents, of our opinions, of our experience, just as we are ashamed of our naked skins.” ~ Alexander Pope
“I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to live the width of it as well.” ~ Diane Ackerman
“I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.”
~ Augusten Burroughs
"Earth's crammed with heaven." ~ Elizabeth Barret Browning
"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship."
~ Louisa May Alcott
"There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion."
~ Sir Francis Bacon
"We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love."
~ Tom Robbins
"truths in their wild state" ~ Gilles Deleuze
"The greatest gift you can give another is the purity of your attention."
~ Richard Moss
"delirium of solutions" ~ William Carlos Williams
"Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love." ~ Leo Tolstoy
"We are not the same person this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person."
~ W. Somerset Maugham
"Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity."
~ Gilda Radner
“chords ran together like tears on a cheek” ~ anonymous
"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
“Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
“We are set down in life as in the element to which we best correspond, and over and above this we have through thousands of years of accommodation become so like this life, that when we hold still we are, through a happy mimicry, scarcely to be distinguished from all that surrounds us.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
"Do I dare
Disturb the universe"
~ T.S. Eliot
“I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me.” ~Anais Nin
"Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh." ~ W.H. Auden
"There's no life
that couldn't be immortal
if only for a moment."
~ Wislawa Szymborska
"I keep coming back to you in my head, but you couldn't know that, and I have no carbons." ~ Adrienne Rich
"Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things."
~ Ray Bradbury
"Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book shown to him by heart, and his friends can only read the title." ~ Virginia Woolf
"You cannot find peace by avoiding life." ~ Virginia Woolf
"We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit." ~ e.e. cummings
"There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy and a tragedy." ~ Mark Twain
"The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom." ~ bell hooks
“We are ashamed of everything that is real about us; ashamed of ourselves, of our relatives, of our incomes, of our accents, of our opinions, of our experience, just as we are ashamed of our naked skins.” ~ Alexander Pope
“I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to live the width of it as well.” ~ Diane Ackerman
“I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.”
~ Augusten Burroughs
"Earth's crammed with heaven." ~ Elizabeth Barret Browning
"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship."
~ Louisa May Alcott
"There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion."
~ Sir Francis Bacon
"We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love."
~ Tom Robbins
"truths in their wild state" ~ Gilles Deleuze
"The greatest gift you can give another is the purity of your attention."
~ Richard Moss
"delirium of solutions" ~ William Carlos Williams
"Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love." ~ Leo Tolstoy
"We are not the same person this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person."
~ W. Somerset Maugham
"Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity."
~ Gilda Radner
“chords ran together like tears on a cheek” ~ anonymous
"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
“Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
“We are set down in life as in the element to which we best correspond, and over and above this we have through thousands of years of accommodation become so like this life, that when we hold still we are, through a happy mimicry, scarcely to be distinguished from all that surrounds us.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
"Do I dare
Disturb the universe"
~ T.S. Eliot
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Youth, Water, Fear
1. Between the ages of 5 and 10, what was your favorite activity?
Describe it in as much detail as possible. You can write from your
point-of-view or from the point-of-view of someone else watching you in
this activity.
2. There is a saying in the martial arts to describe the proper mind frame needed to become a master. "Mind like Water." This is a state of mind that writers must strive for as well. Write about that feeling. Have you ever experienced it? If so, how did it feel? What images does the phrase "Mind like water" bring to mind?
3. Write about a time when you acted a certain way because of fear. What were the consequences?
2. There is a saying in the martial arts to describe the proper mind frame needed to become a master. "Mind like Water." This is a state of mind that writers must strive for as well. Write about that feeling. Have you ever experienced it? If so, how did it feel? What images does the phrase "Mind like water" bring to mind?
3. Write about a time when you acted a certain way because of fear. What were the consequences?
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Fairytales
Which fairytale or childhood story has your life most resembled?
Have you met your prince charming, the big bad wolf, the evil step-mother, the Wicked Witch of the West? Are you a warrior, a princess, the Queen of Hearts? Did you become a graceful swan? Will you live happily ever after?
Changing places
Every place has things that change — sometimes as the result of economics, sometimes because different people are involved, and sometimes for no clear reason that you know about. Think of a change to a place that you know well. Perhaps the local grocery store you grew up with as Smith and Bros. Grocery was bought out by a regional chain like Food Lion or Winn Dixie. Maybe the First National Bank of Smithburg suddenly becomes NationsBank. Perhaps the change was more personal -- an older sibling moves out of the house and your family changes the room to a guest room or an office. Think of a specific change and narrate the events that occurred. Readers should know the details of the change, and they should know how you feel about the changes that occurred.
Bob Dylan lyrics
I've been listening to a lot of Bob Dylan lately and so I decided that this Wednesday's writing prompt will include single lines from various Bob Dylan songs. If there don't work for you, visit bobdylan.com and find a line or two that click with you.
“I saw a white ladder all covered with water” - “A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall”
“Spreading their wings 'neath the falling leaves.” - “Changing of the Guards”
“Were handing out the flowers that I'd given to you.” - “Changing of the Guards”
“But the next time I looked there was light in the room.” - “Day of the Locusts”
“I been lookin' at my shadow, I been watching the colors up above” - “Dirt Road Blues”
“it's hard labour and cold beans” - “Endless Highway”
“A place where there is no pain of birth.” - “Gonna Change My Way Of Thinking”
“Stand in one place till your feet begin to hurt.” - “Hard Times in New York Town”
“Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door” - “Highway 51”
“The next time you see me comin' you better run" - “Highway 61 Revisited”
All quotes above are from Bob Dylan songs.
“I saw a white ladder all covered with water” - “A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall”
“Spreading their wings 'neath the falling leaves.” - “Changing of the Guards”
“Were handing out the flowers that I'd given to you.” - “Changing of the Guards”
“But the next time I looked there was light in the room.” - “Day of the Locusts”
“I been lookin' at my shadow, I been watching the colors up above” - “Dirt Road Blues”
“it's hard labour and cold beans” - “Endless Highway”
“A place where there is no pain of birth.” - “Gonna Change My Way Of Thinking”
“Stand in one place till your feet begin to hurt.” - “Hard Times in New York Town”
“Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door” - “Highway 51”
“The next time you see me comin' you better run" - “Highway 61 Revisited”
All quotes above are from Bob Dylan songs.
Autumn ideas
Go with the flow: Choose a prompting word or two from the following list and write about whatever comes to mind for 15-20 minutes without stopping.
| Season | pumpkins | fall | autumn | acorns | leaves |
| leaf | vibrant | red | yellow | orange | green |
| brown | branches | twigs | aroma | burning leaves | crunch leaves |
| gourds | pressing leaves | energy | beauty | woods | ghosts |
| feathers | corn | popcorn | arts and crafts | gifts | forest |
| apples | orchard | cranberry sauce | potatoes | cornbread | stuffing |
| green beans | apple pie | cooking | warm | harvest | cinnamon |
| abundance | thankful | cold | frost | snow | football |
| snowflakes | raking | leaf piles | campfires | hiking | nature |
Writers on writing
"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Ernest Hemingway
"What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters. You can't reread a phone call." - Liz Carpenter
"Reading usually precedes writing and the impulse to write is almost always fired by reading. Reading, the love of reading, is what makes you dream of becoming a writer." - Susan Sontag
"For a creative writer possession of the 'truth' is less important than emotional sincerity." - George Orwell
"Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot, others transform a yellow spot into the sun." - Pablo Picasso
"when there is no more
story that will be our
story when there is no
forest that will be our forest"
- W. S. Merwin
"What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters. You can't reread a phone call." - Liz Carpenter
"Reading usually precedes writing and the impulse to write is almost always fired by reading. Reading, the love of reading, is what makes you dream of becoming a writer." - Susan Sontag
"For a creative writer possession of the 'truth' is less important than emotional sincerity." - George Orwell
"Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot, others transform a yellow spot into the sun." - Pablo Picasso
"when there is no more
story that will be our
story when there is no
forest that will be our forest"
- W. S. Merwin
Artist statement prompt
Here's Brandon Smith's artist statement. I thought it'd make an interesting writing prompt. :)
"Often staring, large and distorted, the cow within my work occupies the role of artist, the hero and subjugated victim... They become metaphors for the human condition in its dichotomy of frailty and power."
- Brandon Smith, quoted from his artist statement, 2007
"Often staring, large and distorted, the cow within my work occupies the role of artist, the hero and subjugated victim... They become metaphors for the human condition in its dichotomy of frailty and power."
- Brandon Smith, quoted from his artist statement, 2007
Animal language
Below are names of animals in English and various other languages. I purposefully did not state what language the other translations are in so that you can interpret how they came to be and what the symbols represent to you. Write about the animals or language, etc.
Fish: vissen, poissons, Fische, pesci, peixes, pescados, рыбы, ψάρια
Bird: vogel, oiseau, Vogel, uccello, pássaro, pájaro, птица, πουλί
Snake: slang, serpent, Schlange, serpente, serpente, serpiente, змейка, φίδι
Horse: paard, cheval, Pferd, cavallo, cavalo, caballo, лошадь, άλογο
Tiger: tijger, tigre, Tiger, tigre, tigre, tigre, тигр, τίγρη
Monkey: aap, singe, Affe, scimmia, macaco, mono, обезьяна, πίθηκος
Fish: vissen, poissons, Fische, pesci, peixes, pescados, рыбы, ψάρια
Bird: vogel, oiseau, Vogel, uccello, pássaro, pájaro, птица, πουλί
Snake: slang, serpent, Schlange, serpente, serpente, serpiente, змейка, φίδι
Horse: paard, cheval, Pferd, cavallo, cavalo, caballo, лошадь, άλογο
Tiger: tijger, tigre, Tiger, tigre, tigre, tigre, тигр, τίγρη
Monkey: aap, singe, Affe, scimmia, macaco, mono, обезьяна, πίθηκος
Akhmatova couplets
Take this poem, "Twenty-first. Night. Monday", by Anna Akhmatova and divide it into couplets as I have done below. Only use one couplet as a prompt and give the others to other writers (or save them for later) and use it as a prompt. This will allow you to focus only on the lines in the couplet, thus taking away the entire meaning of the original poem.
Twenty-first. Night. Monday.
Silhouette of the capitol in darkness.
Some good-for-nothing -- who knows why --
made up the tale that love exists on earth.
People believe it, maybe from laziness
or boredom, and live accordingly:
they wait eagerly for meetings, fear parting,
and when they sing, they sing about love.
But the secret reveals itself to some,
and on them silence settles down...
I found this out by accident
and now it seems I'm sick all the time.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Creek Crawling
Beside my childhood home there is a small pond and beyond that is "the woods." It is not a very dense woods, certainly not a forest. I used to follow the creek inside for a long time, walking along the edge, crooked turns and dips. Sometimes I would take off my shoes and socks, tying the shoelaces together and shouldering them as I stepped into the water onto mossy stones and pebbly creek beds. I'd cross from one side of the creek to another side by stepping stones, but occasionally by straddling a log laying across the creek walls, then scooting slowly over the bark until I reached the other side. I was too scared to walk across, afraid that I'd slip and fall head first.
One Thanksgiving a cousin and I went hiking beside the creek. We'd left pretty early in the morning thinking we'd come back in time before dinner. But we became distracted and more interested in following the creek, getting to where we were going, finding out where it went. We weren't even hungry. It was an adventure. We weren't concerned about sharing our own stories about what was happening at home, or about school life. We were only interested in discovering the next turn of the creek or what was beyond the little grove of trees. Maybe it was a really sunny and warm day, just right for creek crawling. Maybe it was a need for a little freedom from everyone else, even ourselves, and hiking through sunlit oaks, pines, maples, birches, and ironwoods. Finding smooth colorful pebbles was like finding a pearl. Sometimes we stumbled upon rubbish, a boot protruding in a sandy creek or a rusty oil or soda can wasting away between vines and mossy roots.
Then we heard our names being called from far away. We didn't have watches on, so we didn't know how much time had passed. But we knew that our names being called meant we were in trouble. We'd gone too far, literally. We had followed the creek about a mile or two away from the house, definitely on someone else's property now. My father and my uncle both shouting our names, concerned, frustrated, and a little angry. We finally caught up with our fathers, and upon arriving back at the house, we were told we could not go into the woods anymore. We could not be trusted beyond the pond's embankment. We might would get lost.
Another creek I used to follow a lot was the one down below my Uncle Tommy's and Aunt Cathy's house. The house is surrounded by trees, and down a short path I found another creek I could follow. This one was bigger than the one at home, prettier moss growing, the sun shining brighter through the oak and pine trees, the sandy creeks seemed cleaner, and I found little flowers, muscles, turtles, and frogs here. It became a personal tradition to go down to the creek either before or after Thanksgiving dinner. After a while my youngest cousins were able to join me. At first my personal get-away seemed less my own, but after a brief interlude I enjoyed knowing others were interested in the same natural treasures.
I have not been in a creek in a long time, where I can get my toes wet and sandy, fingers in mossy embankments, digging for shells or smooth pebbles. I'll return one day this Summer, I'm sure.
One Thanksgiving a cousin and I went hiking beside the creek. We'd left pretty early in the morning thinking we'd come back in time before dinner. But we became distracted and more interested in following the creek, getting to where we were going, finding out where it went. We weren't even hungry. It was an adventure. We weren't concerned about sharing our own stories about what was happening at home, or about school life. We were only interested in discovering the next turn of the creek or what was beyond the little grove of trees. Maybe it was a really sunny and warm day, just right for creek crawling. Maybe it was a need for a little freedom from everyone else, even ourselves, and hiking through sunlit oaks, pines, maples, birches, and ironwoods. Finding smooth colorful pebbles was like finding a pearl. Sometimes we stumbled upon rubbish, a boot protruding in a sandy creek or a rusty oil or soda can wasting away between vines and mossy roots.
Then we heard our names being called from far away. We didn't have watches on, so we didn't know how much time had passed. But we knew that our names being called meant we were in trouble. We'd gone too far, literally. We had followed the creek about a mile or two away from the house, definitely on someone else's property now. My father and my uncle both shouting our names, concerned, frustrated, and a little angry. We finally caught up with our fathers, and upon arriving back at the house, we were told we could not go into the woods anymore. We could not be trusted beyond the pond's embankment. We might would get lost.
Another creek I used to follow a lot was the one down below my Uncle Tommy's and Aunt Cathy's house. The house is surrounded by trees, and down a short path I found another creek I could follow. This one was bigger than the one at home, prettier moss growing, the sun shining brighter through the oak and pine trees, the sandy creeks seemed cleaner, and I found little flowers, muscles, turtles, and frogs here. It became a personal tradition to go down to the creek either before or after Thanksgiving dinner. After a while my youngest cousins were able to join me. At first my personal get-away seemed less my own, but after a brief interlude I enjoyed knowing others were interested in the same natural treasures.
I have not been in a creek in a long time, where I can get my toes wet and sandy, fingers in mossy embankments, digging for shells or smooth pebbles. I'll return one day this Summer, I'm sure.
Name-Calling
It was in middle school when much of the name-calling began. I never had quite fit in with my peers, but it was in fifth grade when that became even more pronounced. I did something at school that I had previously only done at home. I was in class and a boy -- I think his name was Jeff -- was sitting behind me kicking my seat. He was kicking it in that hypertension kind of way, a way to release pent-up energy, but this was not something I knew at the time. All I knew was this boy kept kicking my seat while we were taking a spelling test. I was trying to concentrate, but my nerves were shaken with his repetitive seat kicking. So I turned around and growled at him. I didn't growl loudly but a small deep guttural growl. I think my instinct told me to respond in this way instead of saying "stop it" because I knew we were not allowed to talk during the test. So I figured growling was not talking, right? But everyone heard me, not just the boy, and there was laughter and my face probably turning bright red. I don't remember if or how Ms. Tyner punished me for disrupting the class. Maybe she didn't because she knew I was about to get enough punishment from my peers. She just didn't know for how long.
This was the beginning of the DOG and UGLY years. Kids used a combination of Dog Ugly and calling me any kind of name they could use. There was even an acronym for DOG to be a more extensive insult, but I don't remember it. It was mostly boys who did this teasing and taunting, but the girls were bad enough in their own way: exclusivity. So when P.E. time came I often ended up playing with kids who were a year older or younger than me, kids who didn't know what happened in my classroom.
In seventh grade a new student came to Madison. His name was James and he became buddies with Roger. Roger had a vicious attitude, very bad ass and rebellious. He acted up a lot. James slid right into Roger's little circle of bad ass buddies when James snapped an attitude with me in American History class. He must've observed how others had been treating me and decided that he had to fit in and this was the way to do it. So he was vehement each time he "baaaah!" at me in the hallways, calling me a goat and making the loudest noises possible. No teacher ever seriously told him to stop. And other peers just smirked and laughed, amused at his antics.
One day, right after Ms. Stringer's American History class ended and most of the other students had left the trailer and were heading indoors to their lockers and to break, I called James over and said I needed to ask him a question. Since his buddies weren't around he didn't cock an attitude but he listened to me nicely ask, "Why do you make fun of me? Did I do something to you? What is it about me that makes you call me names?" And maybe the sad sincerity of my asking him these questions prevented him from being rude, but all he offered up as an answer was, "I don't know" while looking me straight in the face. I shook my head, lowering it, and he left. But the name-calling didn't stop after that. But I knew I had glimpsed for a brief moment that he sincerely didn't know why he did it, just that he felt he had to do it.
Since much of my middle and junior high school years was spent surviving constant name calling from my peers, I never made it a habit to do the same to others. I knew it hurt. I knew it was alienating.
This was the beginning of the DOG and UGLY years. Kids used a combination of Dog Ugly and calling me any kind of name they could use. There was even an acronym for DOG to be a more extensive insult, but I don't remember it. It was mostly boys who did this teasing and taunting, but the girls were bad enough in their own way: exclusivity. So when P.E. time came I often ended up playing with kids who were a year older or younger than me, kids who didn't know what happened in my classroom.
In seventh grade a new student came to Madison. His name was James and he became buddies with Roger. Roger had a vicious attitude, very bad ass and rebellious. He acted up a lot. James slid right into Roger's little circle of bad ass buddies when James snapped an attitude with me in American History class. He must've observed how others had been treating me and decided that he had to fit in and this was the way to do it. So he was vehement each time he "baaaah!" at me in the hallways, calling me a goat and making the loudest noises possible. No teacher ever seriously told him to stop. And other peers just smirked and laughed, amused at his antics.
One day, right after Ms. Stringer's American History class ended and most of the other students had left the trailer and were heading indoors to their lockers and to break, I called James over and said I needed to ask him a question. Since his buddies weren't around he didn't cock an attitude but he listened to me nicely ask, "Why do you make fun of me? Did I do something to you? What is it about me that makes you call me names?" And maybe the sad sincerity of my asking him these questions prevented him from being rude, but all he offered up as an answer was, "I don't know" while looking me straight in the face. I shook my head, lowering it, and he left. But the name-calling didn't stop after that. But I knew I had glimpsed for a brief moment that he sincerely didn't know why he did it, just that he felt he had to do it.
Since much of my middle and junior high school years was spent surviving constant name calling from my peers, I never made it a habit to do the same to others. I knew it hurt. I knew it was alienating.
Camp Wahi
I joined the Girl Scouts when I was in sixth grade, after meeting Stacy and her family. Her mother, nicknamed Smokey, was my troop's leader. Stacy's family was a late '80s version of the Brady Bunch: 3 brothers and 3 sisters, but the gender grouping was not as us/them as the Bradys. I remember one of our meetings at Smokey's house, all the girls piled on the floor in the living room, listening to the troop leader speak, and picking out the next badge we'd work towards as a group. I don't remember the troop meetings as much as I do the summers away to camp for weeks at a time.
Camp Wahi. It felt like it was hundreds of miles away from home when Mom drove me there for the week. I rarely got homesick; I'd come home after being gone a couple of weeks and Dad would say, "You were so busy you never wrote a letter home." I wasn't like some girls, crying at night because they missed their mothers and fathers. I missed mine, but I also knew I would see them again in a week or two. They weren't gone; they were right where I left them.
I went to Camp Wahi three summers in a row: '89, '90, '91. Each Summer felt completely different. The girls were different, gone in a flash each year, not to return again the next summer. Two of the summers I stayed there I camped in the tent cabins. These housed four girls at a time, four beds, two on each side with an open space in between. You stored your suitcase and boxes and bags and books under your bed. You brought your own pillow, sheets, blankets. Mosquito spray. If you brought a book you never had time to read it, after being tired from hiking or crafting all day, swimming lessons, playing games or pranks with other campers in their tents. Every summer was different. Some were so filled with activity that I cannot remember them all in the blur of faces and fuzzy recollections.
One summer I met Anne. I remember her because her name was my middle name and when we discovered this we became instant friends. I was in her tent constantly, listening to her walkman, sharing stories, playing games, and looking at magazines. She told me a lot about her family. I listened to the stories, the mysteries and the mythical, but none of those remained all these years. I do remember her extra nipple though. She wore a one-piece swimsuit and whenever she met someone new she had to share her story, show them her third nipple: a faded, slightly raised area that never really formed fully. She was an interesting little soap opera, bouncing around, energetic, all-nighter to my night owl habits. Mornings were never good to us.
The next summer there was Robin. She wasn't a camper like the rest of us, but a camp counselor in charge of a few cabin areas. She wasn't my section's camp counselor, but I saw her during some of the camp functions, in the mess hall, at the pool, all over the camp. She had short hair, an easy-going personality, always smiling, playful and fun. I remember the first day I saw her because I only saw her from behind and thought to myself, "what? A BOY here at Girl Scout camp?!" But then she turned around I realized her features were feminine, plus her smile was big and her eyes lit up when she talked with you. I don't remember much else about this summer... I think I was there for the off-camp camping trip session. Canoeing to the other side of the lake, setting up camp, tents, getting wood and tinder, campfire, s'mores. Hoot owls, star constellations, singing around the campfire. But Robin wasn't part of that session and was back at camp with the other girls for swim lessons, crafts, or some other Girl Scout activity. Maybe it was knots she instructed?
The third time I went to this camp I was a little older than most other campers, and the camp counselors I knew in this session reminded me of my sister. One of them was nicknamed Scottie. She had dark wavy hair she sometimes wore in pigtails. Remember, this is '88 or '89. I remember less about the friends and the camp counselors than I do about the activities. I found a raccoon pawprint, made a mold of it, and earned a badge in wildlife. Learned the names of trees and flowers in the area, and some other things. Might have created a book with various leaves in it, labeled with names, type of tree, etc. This session we were not in the tent cabins but in the log house, which I didn't like as much. It just didn't seem like camping to me. This was my last time to go to Camp Wahi, and my last time to be a Girl Scout. I was always a junior and never promoted to cadet, which I noticed on the Girl Scouts website isn't called that anymore.
Maybe sometime I will drive out to Brandon, Mississippi, to see the camp. I think large parts of it would have been renovated since the years I ran around, hiking up and down small hills, swimming, making leather crafts or tie-dying t-shirts. My appreciation for nature was encouraged there.
Camp Wahi. It felt like it was hundreds of miles away from home when Mom drove me there for the week. I rarely got homesick; I'd come home after being gone a couple of weeks and Dad would say, "You were so busy you never wrote a letter home." I wasn't like some girls, crying at night because they missed their mothers and fathers. I missed mine, but I also knew I would see them again in a week or two. They weren't gone; they were right where I left them.
I went to Camp Wahi three summers in a row: '89, '90, '91. Each Summer felt completely different. The girls were different, gone in a flash each year, not to return again the next summer. Two of the summers I stayed there I camped in the tent cabins. These housed four girls at a time, four beds, two on each side with an open space in between. You stored your suitcase and boxes and bags and books under your bed. You brought your own pillow, sheets, blankets. Mosquito spray. If you brought a book you never had time to read it, after being tired from hiking or crafting all day, swimming lessons, playing games or pranks with other campers in their tents. Every summer was different. Some were so filled with activity that I cannot remember them all in the blur of faces and fuzzy recollections.
One summer I met Anne. I remember her because her name was my middle name and when we discovered this we became instant friends. I was in her tent constantly, listening to her walkman, sharing stories, playing games, and looking at magazines. She told me a lot about her family. I listened to the stories, the mysteries and the mythical, but none of those remained all these years. I do remember her extra nipple though. She wore a one-piece swimsuit and whenever she met someone new she had to share her story, show them her third nipple: a faded, slightly raised area that never really formed fully. She was an interesting little soap opera, bouncing around, energetic, all-nighter to my night owl habits. Mornings were never good to us.
The next summer there was Robin. She wasn't a camper like the rest of us, but a camp counselor in charge of a few cabin areas. She wasn't my section's camp counselor, but I saw her during some of the camp functions, in the mess hall, at the pool, all over the camp. She had short hair, an easy-going personality, always smiling, playful and fun. I remember the first day I saw her because I only saw her from behind and thought to myself, "what? A BOY here at Girl Scout camp?!" But then she turned around I realized her features were feminine, plus her smile was big and her eyes lit up when she talked with you. I don't remember much else about this summer... I think I was there for the off-camp camping trip session. Canoeing to the other side of the lake, setting up camp, tents, getting wood and tinder, campfire, s'mores. Hoot owls, star constellations, singing around the campfire. But Robin wasn't part of that session and was back at camp with the other girls for swim lessons, crafts, or some other Girl Scout activity. Maybe it was knots she instructed?
The third time I went to this camp I was a little older than most other campers, and the camp counselors I knew in this session reminded me of my sister. One of them was nicknamed Scottie. She had dark wavy hair she sometimes wore in pigtails. Remember, this is '88 or '89. I remember less about the friends and the camp counselors than I do about the activities. I found a raccoon pawprint, made a mold of it, and earned a badge in wildlife. Learned the names of trees and flowers in the area, and some other things. Might have created a book with various leaves in it, labeled with names, type of tree, etc. This session we were not in the tent cabins but in the log house, which I didn't like as much. It just didn't seem like camping to me. This was my last time to go to Camp Wahi, and my last time to be a Girl Scout. I was always a junior and never promoted to cadet, which I noticed on the Girl Scouts website isn't called that anymore.
Maybe sometime I will drive out to Brandon, Mississippi, to see the camp. I think large parts of it would have been renovated since the years I ran around, hiking up and down small hills, swimming, making leather crafts or tie-dying t-shirts. My appreciation for nature was encouraged there.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Olivia Newton-John
Earlier today I recalled some of the albums given to me when I was in kindergarten or elementary school. I remembered Michael Jackson's Bad, Madonna's Like a Virgin, Whitney Houston, and Def Leppard, but I forgot Olivia Newton-John's Soul Kiss.
One weekend I was at my cousins' house in Raymond, MS. I don't remember where everyone else had disappeared. It is possible I stayed behind when others went to the grocery store to get hot chocolate, or my aunt went to pick up her youngest daughter. But I had my record with me, or maybe it was Aunt Jane's? It is possible that I discovered her album and played it loudly in her empty house, dancing, bouncing around on the long white couch. I marveled at my flexibility, dance moves that now would be interpreted as dramatic stretches and twirls. Way too young to know anything about the song's meaning, I was instead learning what movement was comfortable to me: this look over my shoulder, pretending to be seductive.
"Oh, let's get physical, physical, I wanna get physical, let's get into physical. Let me hear your body talk, your body talk, let me hear your body talk."
Of course I was too young to really know what Olivia was singing about, but I had a small clue. This song would eventually be forgotten, but replaced by Grease's popular songs and duets. I just knew that Olivia portrayed herself as a seductress in her video, which meant anyone singing this song must act as a seductress. Being shy didn't allow me to pretend around others, but alone I could pretend to be mysterious, mythical, and grown-up.
Of course, now, I cannot even remember how the lyrics were sung. I'd probably laugh if I heard "Physical" on the radio. Its certainly not a song I identify with anymore, if I ever did in that fantasy world I created when I heard it. After looking at Wikipedia, I have learned so much more about the song... Or even better, watch the video that MTV often cut off at the end in the early '80s. Some countries even banned the song from playing on the radio. "Physical" was popular in 1981 and 1982, but I doubt I knew it at that time and probably stumbled across it when I was around 10 or 12.
One weekend I was at my cousins' house in Raymond, MS. I don't remember where everyone else had disappeared. It is possible I stayed behind when others went to the grocery store to get hot chocolate, or my aunt went to pick up her youngest daughter. But I had my record with me, or maybe it was Aunt Jane's? It is possible that I discovered her album and played it loudly in her empty house, dancing, bouncing around on the long white couch. I marveled at my flexibility, dance moves that now would be interpreted as dramatic stretches and twirls. Way too young to know anything about the song's meaning, I was instead learning what movement was comfortable to me: this look over my shoulder, pretending to be seductive.
"Oh, let's get physical, physical, I wanna get physical, let's get into physical. Let me hear your body talk, your body talk, let me hear your body talk."
Of course I was too young to really know what Olivia was singing about, but I had a small clue. This song would eventually be forgotten, but replaced by Grease's popular songs and duets. I just knew that Olivia portrayed herself as a seductress in her video, which meant anyone singing this song must act as a seductress. Being shy didn't allow me to pretend around others, but alone I could pretend to be mysterious, mythical, and grown-up.
Of course, now, I cannot even remember how the lyrics were sung. I'd probably laugh if I heard "Physical" on the radio. Its certainly not a song I identify with anymore, if I ever did in that fantasy world I created when I heard it. After looking at Wikipedia, I have learned so much more about the song... Or even better, watch the video that MTV often cut off at the end in the early '80s. Some countries even banned the song from playing on the radio. "Physical" was popular in 1981 and 1982, but I doubt I knew it at that time and probably stumbled across it when I was around 10 or 12.
Dionne Warwick
Last night I went to Lexington with some friends and while we were talking we'd notice that all the songs seemed familiar but we couldn't remember who sung them or the titles. But one reminded me of Dionne Warwick and I recalled memories of listening to one of her albums. Maybe it was one my mom had already owned, but most likely I wanted it because it had the song "That's What Friends Are For." I remember listening to the record, Friends, over and over again, especially this song. It was uplifting, hopeful, and heartwarming.
"Keep smilin', keep shinin' Knowin' you can always count on me, for sure; That's what friends are for. For good times and bad times I'll be on your side forever more; That's what friends are for."I believe this was the song that told me, when I was a little girl, exactly what a friend should be, and anything less wasn't truly a friend. I listened to this song right about the time when young girls realize that some friends are wishy-washy, two-face, hot/cold. Some friends acknowledge your friendship in the face of the world, while others keep your relationship in the shadows. Some suddenly betray you. Some defend you. And you would do anything for those who stand by your side, those you can trust and depend upon. You'd take their call at 3 a.m., listen to their crying and worries, tell them you'll help in any way that you can. That they are loved. I heard this song briefly last night in my memories in the noise and chatter, then again last night before falling asleep. A reminder of friendship, what was most important and what was insignificant, jealousies to put aside, and happiness and hopefulness to encourage and witness. Friends to love.
Gillian Welch
The first album I bought by Gillian Welch was Revival. I bought it in the used CD store in Oxford, MS, called Uncle Buck's Records. Since the days I lived in Oxford, MS, Uncle Buck's closed and Hot Dog Records opened for a few years before kicking the bucket, too. I loved the slow rocking rhythm of "Pass You By" and the way Gillian sang, her vocals saturating the air, pouring out like molasses, drawing out words to match the melody.
Some time later she and David came back to Oxford for the Double Decker Arts Festival in April. We sat with Organic Blue Sky Raspberry sodas in hand on the balcony of Square Books overlooking the stage and their performance. I don't remember if I had my camera with me this time, but I probably didn't take very many pictures after all. A few years later, on April 24, 2004, I came back to the Festival, making a special trip up from Jackson, MS, to see them perform again. A two year relationship had ended a year earlier and we were meeting to be cordial and try to maintain a friendship. But I disappeared a few times to enjoy the show and to take some pictures from just below the stage, all angled awkwardly. I wanted to stand but nearly all the audience had sat down to enjoy the music.
Much later, after moving to Hattiesburg, MS, for graduate school at USM and settling into an empty apartment with scattered boxes everywhere waiting to be unpacked, I had Gillian's album Soul Journey playing "Lowlands" loudly.
"Don't turn no head, don't catch no eye Just a wind on the road, gonna pass you by Don't come over here, Don't scream don't cry Just a wind on the road, gonna pass you by"Sometime after I bought Revival, I saw that Gillian and David were coming to Oxford for a gig in Proud Larry's, a bar and restaurant just off the downtown square. This was before the soundtrack for O Brother, Where Art Thou? came out with Gillian singing "I'll Fly Away" with Alison Krauss. This was before she was well known, from what I could determine. The audience was full but not crammed, and the tiny stage was just enough for Gillian and David to play. I stood over to stage-right, near a speaker and the checker-paned windows looking out on the alley. The stage was only one step up, and if I had stood in the back I would not have been able to stare at their fingers on the guitars, banjos, and mandolins. I was fascinated and had forgotten my camera. She sang several songs I knew, and many I had not yet heard. Some days later, when I was dating someone for several months, I was given the CD Hell Among the Yearlings. The songs here were slower and more mellow than the ones on Revival. It took me a lot longer to like these songs, but eventually I did. My favorite song, played over and over in my car stereo when I went for a long drive to have time to myself, was "Tear My Stillhouse Down."
"Oh tell all your children That Hell ain't no dream 'Cause Satan he lives In my whiskey machine And in my time of dying I know where I'm bound So when I die tear my stillhouse down."I just loved the way she sang every line of that song, powerful and regretful, mournful of the march drumming behind her last request of tearing the stillhouse down. "Don't leave no trace of the hiding place where we made that evil stuff" just bounces off your tongue; the poetry of the lyrics struck me.
Some time later she and David came back to Oxford for the Double Decker Arts Festival in April. We sat with Organic Blue Sky Raspberry sodas in hand on the balcony of Square Books overlooking the stage and their performance. I don't remember if I had my camera with me this time, but I probably didn't take very many pictures after all. A few years later, on April 24, 2004, I came back to the Festival, making a special trip up from Jackson, MS, to see them perform again. A two year relationship had ended a year earlier and we were meeting to be cordial and try to maintain a friendship. But I disappeared a few times to enjoy the show and to take some pictures from just below the stage, all angled awkwardly. I wanted to stand but nearly all the audience had sat down to enjoy the music.
Much later, after moving to Hattiesburg, MS, for graduate school at USM and settling into an empty apartment with scattered boxes everywhere waiting to be unpacked, I had Gillian's album Soul Journey playing "Lowlands" loudly.
"Oh I've been in the lowlands too long, Oh, I know, I know that I should go, And I've been in the lowlands too long"It was the epitome of being happy to move into my first apartment, a place of my own. Music on constantly, Gillian singing about making a pallet on the floor or Miss Ohio. I read reviews that contradicted with my opinion of the album, criticizing the songs I liked most, and preferring the ones I liked least. I am waiting for Gillian and David to come to Kentucky so I can hear them in their best form, live.
"Ain’t one soul in the whole world knows my name Ain’t one soul in the whole world knows my name But I’ll see it by and by cause it’s written up in the sky Ain’t one soul in the whole world knows my name"
Sarah McLachlan
Earlier today I heard a song by Sarah McLachlan. There's so many memories tied to Sarah's music I cannot pick just one to write about, so I will write about several as I recall them now.
When I was a junior in high school I had a close friend who was a freshman. He and I both loved Sarah's music and its largely him going on and on about her that made me become interested in her albums. So I spied the video for "Possession" on either VH1 or MTV one evening. I was won over. Sarah's intensity of staring into the camera as it filmed her singing the song, pretty much a head shot the entire time, her hair cascading around her. And when I commented on this to James, my freshman friend, he just sighed wistfully remembering the video. Watching the video again now, if it is the one I remembering seeing in 1993, there's not as many shots focused on her looking into the camera as I recall. Memory is interesting like that, extending the parts we liked most and abbreviating the parts we liked least. I also constantly played Sarah's album in my car, when I had a working cassette player in it. I recall driving on one of my favorite roads between the mall and the Barnett Reservoir, a curvy road that wasn't monitored too strictly by policemen but also didn't have any stops. Not a long road, just one good enough for a little while to get away from the busier traffic. I doubt I would enjoy it now as the area is getting swamped with chain stores and office parks.
"Adia" was another song by Sarah McLachlan which wrapped me up into all the lyrics and the way she sang the following:
’Cause we are born innocent. Believe me Adia, we are still innocent. It's easy, we all falter. Does it matter?I would sing this to myself all the time. Constantly. I cannot sing as high as Sarah, that's for sure, but I imagined I could just enough. At least I didn't torture anyone with my singing. I remember watching a VH1 special in which Sarah's being interviewed and she was asked what the song was about. She mentions her grandmother and their relationship. Another memory deals with "Angel." I am attending the University of Mississippi after transferring from community college. The dorm I am staying in is a co-ed dorm, or as close to one you might find in Mississippi. The dormitory had two wings, one wing was male, the other female, and both having three floors. This dorm was mostly occupied by graduate, non-traditional, and exchange students. I was working and living there as a resident adviser (RA). After a while I started dating someone, and the opportunity arose the following summer for us to go with a friend to Nashville to Lilith Fair. I was excited because Sarah McLachlan, Natalie Merchant, Liz Phair, Bonnie Raitt, and others were going to be there performing. I bought us tickets to go. It was a great show, even if we were sitting on the hillside and not in the stadium seats close to the stage. I could see a tiny Sarah standing center stage, flowy feminine and in blues and purples. The audience was mostly women, some varying kinds of couples here and there. We stood there together, watching and listening, embraced in a hug, my back to his chest. Later, there were some darker moments during that concert when I was not too pleased with him: his derogatory comments about a car full of women at the gas station, the under-his-breath comment about the lesbian couple I asked to take our picture for us. This was one of the many times I realized our personalities clashed extremely, and it only intensified as the summer months pushed forward till I finally broke it off with a little mental and emotional strength support from a university counselor at the wellness center.
In the arms of an angel Fly away from here From this dark cold hotel room And the endlessness that you fear You are pulled from the wreckage Of your silent reverie You’re in the arms of the angel May you find some comfort thereA few memories are associated with "I Will Remember You," but I will only write this one. After Adam and I broke up I listened to the song often because I had learned a lot from that brief relationship. We were in different stages of our lives looking for different things in a relationship. It ended abruptly, but some time after that we became friends again, catching up with each other sporadically. I listened the this song and a lot of Matchbox Twenty after we broke up to deal with the emotions and frustrations I sunk myself into for a time.
I will remember you Will you remember me? Don’t let your life pass you by Weep not for the memories
Morrissey
First time I heard Morrissey it was during a tornado warning. Sitting cross-legged in the hallway for what seemed like two hours before we reported back to our third-period classrooms, I listened to Jordan sing "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get." Enthralled by his voice rolling out the lyrics, I assumed he was composing a song on the spot.
The more you ignore meHe leaned against the wall behind him, stretched his legs in front of him and stared into empty space as the melody moved forth. When he realized I was facing him, listening intently, he turned his whole torso towards me to look square into my eyes as he sang. He had a charismatic way about him, locking me into an intense admiration in spite of myself.
The closer I get
You're wasting your time
I am now a central partHe was exotic in the way he expressed himself, nonchalantly but masked passion in his eyes. Maybe it was the marijuana or whatever other drug he was experiencing those months. Maybe it was my sheltered self craving something wild and unleashed, carefree and indifferent to societal expectations. Maybe it was his manic-depressive rollercoaster colliding with intellectual boredom. Maybe his word-playfulness before crashing into mental blocks. Maybe it was attention given, and with-held, when I craved it.
Of your mind's landscape
Whether you care
Or do not.
Yeah, I've made up your mind.
Beware! I bear more grudgesAfter having memorized the lyrics Jordan had sung in the dim school hallway full of other teenagers waiting out the tornado warning, I searched the lyrics on the internet. Just a bit disappointed that they were not written by him, but not dismayed for too long before buying that CD, Vauxhal and I, in a music store in the mall. I listened to the CD nonstop for weeks afterwards, falling in love with each of the songs one by one. I loved Morrissey's voice, but I also loved the memory of someone singing the lyrics while staring deep into my eyes, making my heart creep into my throat, my heartbeat faster, my fingers twisting the corner of my shirt into a knot, all my nerves quaking with teenage angst and infatuation.
Than lonely high court judges.
When you sleep
I will creep
Into your thoughts
Like a bad debt
That you can't pay.
Take the easy way
And give in.
U2
"I wanna run, I want to hide. I wanna tear down the walls That hold me inside. I wanna reach out And touch the flame, Where the streets have no name."There are numerous songs by U2 which move me completely from one emotion to another. I can only speculate that the first song I heard by U2 must have been "Where the Streets Have No Name." Maybe it while my sister played her The Joshua Tree cassette and I thought, "Wow, I really like that song!" Or was I watching MTV, saw the video for the song, U2 performing live and unscheduled on the roof of a liquor store in LA? It is entirely possible, because who wouldn't fall in love with a band who'd dare record a live show in a "bad" area of Los Angeles without LAPD approval? It was free music for the people. All their concerts were sold out, their popularity rising every second. During my freshman year of college I wrote a paper on the lyrics for "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For." I analyzed one of my all-time favorite songs by my all-time favorite band. It is definitely a song about searching for the spiritual, something to really put one's faith into, to believe, to find oneself able to believe.
"I have spoke with the tongue of angels I have held the hand of a devil. It was warm in the night; I was cold as a stone. But I still haven't found What I'm looking for. But I still haven't found What I'm looking for."And then this ideal world, this place where everyone is one, all together, joined and bonded, broken free of color.
"I believe in the Kingdom Come, Then all the colours will bleed into one, Bleed into one. But yes, I'm still running."When I was in 8th or 9th grade, around 15 or 16 years old, I became obsessed with the lyrics of U2 songs. I had borrowed my sister's tapes and had bought one or two of my own by now, so I had The Joshua Tree, Boy, War, The Unforgettable Fire, and Rattle and Hum. I even had a single, Wide Awake in America. I transcribed the lyrics by hand, listening, then pausing the tape cassette. I played the songs over and over again, working hard to get the right words, to make sense of the lyrics and discover the secret of why I treasured these songs. In the process I learned every single song completely. For my ninth grade English class, I turned in a biography on the band's musical career to Coach Thompson. I even drew the Boy album cover and included that as the paper's cover. I finally found a way to see them in concert. I managed to snag a couple tickets for a Cleveland, Ohio, concert, but ended up selling one of the tickets when I didn't have anyone to go with me. So I rented a car, drove to Cleveland through December snow and found my hotel, a taxi service, and a ride to the concert. Many other hotel patrons were going to the concert, and I overheard after-parties, bars, clubs to go to afterwards. I found my seat, high on the left side of the stage, a complete view of the floor and performance, lights and action. The opening act was good, but I waited through it patiently. Then the lightshow began, Bono ran out on the stage, a half-oval diving into the ground floor audience. The first song was "City of Blinding Lights," a song I recently began to love. This was the setlist for the concert. Throughout the whole show, there were snippets of Beatles' songs, too. It was perfection. I was in Heaven. This day, December 10th, 2005, was marked down on my calendar forever.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
archive: 19 July 2009: July
Well, lots have changed since my last little blog on here where I whined oh woe is me. I still feel a little bit that way, but aren't we humans always pining for more, even when we have lots to be happy for?
So since March I've gained a housemate, I've built a raised garden in the backyard, I've gone to drumming circle, and I've taken tons of pictures of musicians in the area. I've pretty much become a regular/familiar face at Red Cup, I'm meeting a few people here and there, MeetUp.com meets, book club, get-togethers.
I think that in the back of my head I will still feel "this isn't like what I knew in Berea." Of course! I think the biggest difference is simply that I MISS the people I was involved with in Berea. There's no way to make those same kinds of circles here and instantly feel as if I have found my niche, because that takes plenty of time and plenty of folks deciding they want to get to know me, sit and spend time sharing about themselves with me. It took a couple of years in Berea, so why do I think it can happen instantaneously in OKC? Silly me. :P
But I am meeting people and liking the folks I am meeting. The music, the poetry, the coffee, the small intimate-type bars, the blues bar, the late night walks around my neighborhood - Speaking of walks, last night I kinda wanted to take off on one after leaving Midtown Deli... It was such a beautiful night after listening to good music, a good chat with a new friend... But I just went on home. I could've walked all down 10th Street and back. Those walks make me feel at home. Maybe one tonight.
My book of poems, Rise When the Rooster Crows, is pretty much done. I've got the titles straightened out. I wonder if Vicky or Michael is going to send any comments back about the final revision I sent them. Vicky said she was taking it with her to Sewanee and that she'll send me something after she gets back. Michael - as much as I value his opinion on my writing, he probably has said all he wants to say about this book already. Besides, he's got Portland stuff to deal with right now.
It is Sunday and I should find something to do.
So since March I've gained a housemate, I've built a raised garden in the backyard, I've gone to drumming circle, and I've taken tons of pictures of musicians in the area. I've pretty much become a regular/familiar face at Red Cup, I'm meeting a few people here and there, MeetUp.com meets, book club, get-togethers.
I think that in the back of my head I will still feel "this isn't like what I knew in Berea." Of course! I think the biggest difference is simply that I MISS the people I was involved with in Berea. There's no way to make those same kinds of circles here and instantly feel as if I have found my niche, because that takes plenty of time and plenty of folks deciding they want to get to know me, sit and spend time sharing about themselves with me. It took a couple of years in Berea, so why do I think it can happen instantaneously in OKC? Silly me. :P
But I am meeting people and liking the folks I am meeting. The music, the poetry, the coffee, the small intimate-type bars, the blues bar, the late night walks around my neighborhood - Speaking of walks, last night I kinda wanted to take off on one after leaving Midtown Deli... It was such a beautiful night after listening to good music, a good chat with a new friend... But I just went on home. I could've walked all down 10th Street and back. Those walks make me feel at home. Maybe one tonight.
My book of poems, Rise When the Rooster Crows, is pretty much done. I've got the titles straightened out. I wonder if Vicky or Michael is going to send any comments back about the final revision I sent them. Vicky said she was taking it with her to Sewanee and that she'll send me something after she gets back. Michael - as much as I value his opinion on my writing, he probably has said all he wants to say about this book already. Besides, he's got Portland stuff to deal with right now.
It is Sunday and I should find something to do.
Friday, March 20, 2009
archive: 20 March 2009: thinking about writing and okc life
I haven't been on here in a few months. Work, work, work. It should be "write, write, write." There's been a little bit of the writing, and some editing, but not as regular as I should be. The poems are coming along though, even if I am backing off from them in order to drag it out, make it last longer so I won't be left with a finished book and no idea what to write next.
Michael keeps reminding me I will know, it will come to me. I know I am having the same fear he was having back in October. He's begun his second book and its going to be a grander scale, but with his theme he can do that. The first book basically begs for the persona to continue. Life is growth.
Speaking of growth, I should be doing more. Out more. But I look at my bank account and say, you can't do anything because you'll spend too much and then you're going to be screwed. I wish a Mary Poppins of Finances existed. *snap snap* Your debt problems are gone.
And I have some fabric art ideas, but I can't seem to bring myself to stay in the artroom and MAKE something. Instead, I watch Buffy or Angel episodes over again, and I sometimes work on a bit of writing, but the writing work isn't with the fervor I should have.
Something's got to give. My evenings are dull. Sometimes I make it down to Red Cup and enjoy the music on Friday evenings, some coffee, work on writing new drafts or editing all day on a Saturday old drafts... But it's not like when in Berea when someone walks in and I recognize them and either we chat a moment or I end up overhearing part of the chatter with the barista, etc., etc. I still don't know people here outside of work.
Ok. Back to work. Hmph.
Michael keeps reminding me I will know, it will come to me. I know I am having the same fear he was having back in October. He's begun his second book and its going to be a grander scale, but with his theme he can do that. The first book basically begs for the persona to continue. Life is growth.
Speaking of growth, I should be doing more. Out more. But I look at my bank account and say, you can't do anything because you'll spend too much and then you're going to be screwed. I wish a Mary Poppins of Finances existed. *snap snap* Your debt problems are gone.
And I have some fabric art ideas, but I can't seem to bring myself to stay in the artroom and MAKE something. Instead, I watch Buffy or Angel episodes over again, and I sometimes work on a bit of writing, but the writing work isn't with the fervor I should have.
Something's got to give. My evenings are dull. Sometimes I make it down to Red Cup and enjoy the music on Friday evenings, some coffee, work on writing new drafts or editing all day on a Saturday old drafts... But it's not like when in Berea when someone walks in and I recognize them and either we chat a moment or I end up overhearing part of the chatter with the barista, etc., etc. I still don't know people here outside of work.
Ok. Back to work. Hmph.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
archive: 01 January 2009: end of the year sum
Where did you begin 2008?
At Glen's house with a bunch of friends, listening to folks jam, enjoying good food, good wine, good friendships. At midnight I remember sitting on the wooden steps between the kitchen and the back room where the wood stove is listening to Carol play something on the guitar as people came in to listen, too.
What was your status by Valentines Day?
single; spending time with a good friend
Were you in school anytime this year?
no
Did you have to go to the hospital?
no
Did you have any encounters with the police?
I was slow getting my tags renewed and got a ticket for that. Had to go to court and apologize and get them immediately.
Where did you go on vacation?
I don't really vacation. I did go to the Appalachian String Band Festival for the whole week in August, and I went to Clear Creek Festival for the whole weekend. Those were great times.
What did you purchase that was over 100?
banjo, rental car a few times, plane tickets (reimbursed)
Did you know anybody who got married?
yes, but I can't recall all of them right now. So many did, though.
Did you know anybody who passed away?
no
Did you move anywhere?
I moved in October from Kentucky to Oklahoma; I also moved from my apartment in June to a friend's guest room for two months in town, and then moved again at the end of August to another friend's guest room for a month in the country before moving to OKC.
What concerts/ shows did you go to?
No large circuit concerts. I heard Clack Mountain String Band, Mitch Barrett, MudPi, Red State Ramblers, Erynn Marshall, Blind Corn Liquor Pickers, etc.
Describe your birthday
My 32nd birthday... I had just moved into Vicky and Clarence's place. I don't think much happened. Probably went for a walk.
What is the one thing you thought you would not do, but did, in 2008?
hmph!
What have been your favorite moments?
rallying with KFTC at the Frankfort courthouse on Valentine's Day, going with a friend to Al's Bar later that evening to hear Blind Corn Liquor Pickers and others, all writing group sesssions, long walks, all MudPi/Like How?/Sundogs gatherings and jams, the "goodbye apartment" dinner at my place in June, staying up all night Friday night at Clifftop in August, great music and gathering at Clear Creek Festival on Saturday night, when it dawned on me that I have a collection idea for a series of poems, seeing a deer in a field on August 13 during a meteor shower and listening to Leonard Cohen, long talks, whiskey evenings, the early-July drive through Western KY to see a friend and to see family in Memphis.
Any new additions to your family?
One cousin married, another cousin announced she's pregnant.
What was your best month ?
hmm... maybe either February, March, or April. August and September were good, too. I can't pick one.
Who has been your best drinking buddy ?
Phoebe at times, Michael at others
Made new friends?
strengthened friendships and made a few new ones
Favorite night out?
February 14th (KFTC Rally and Al's Bar music), and that all-night music evening at Clifftop, and one bourbon night in May
Other than home, where did you spend most of your time?
Berea Coffee & Tea
Be honest - did you watch American Idol?
no
Change your hairstyle?
trimmed and cut it a few times, dyed it a few times trying to get it back to its natural color
Have any car accidents?
no
How old did you turn this year?
32
Do you have a New Year's resolution ?
still thinking about them
Do anything embarrassing?
certainly
Buy anything new from eBay?
no
get married or divorced?
no
Get arrested?
no
Been snowboarding?
no.
Did you get sick this year?
a couple times with a bad head cold or sinus allergy reaction. Nothing serious.
Are you happy to see 2008 go?
there were mostly good times, so I am sad to see it go but hope 2009 doesn't hold back
Been naughty or nice?
ha! yes, a little bit of both
--- stole this one from Beth B. ---
What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
stay up all night at Clifftop; move from KY to OK; make masks based on poetic personas; drink bourbon; drive a U-Haul truck with my car in tow on a trailer across KY, TN, AR, and OK
Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I had stuff I wanted to work on, but I didn't call them resolutions, and I don't remember what they were
Did anyone close to you give birth?
Family friends in MS did
Did anyone close to you die?
no
What countries did you visit?
none
What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Better self-discipline, more money, less procrastination, stronger self-determination
What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Mostly times that aren't huge moments to others but have a sense of deepness to me, mostly spending time with friends, particular feelings and moments like sitting on the wood steps between Glen's kitchen and the wood stove room on 2007's New Year's Eve, talking and listening to a friend give suggestions on a collection of my poems, standing with Teri at the rally in Frankfort shouting and chanting, seeing the deer in the field on a meteor shower night in August.... Moments of emotion.
What was your biggest achievement of the year?
landing a job, working longer and more seriously on my poetry (though I still need to work more on it)
What was your biggest failure?
hmm... I don't know.
Did you suffer illness or injury?
no
What was the best thing you bought?
entrance fee to the Appalachian String Band Festival, banjo lessons
Whose behavior merited celebration?
my fellow writerly friends, Phoebe, MudPi, SunDogs...
Where did most of your money go?
coffee
What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Appalachian String Band Festival, and most gatherings at Glen's
What song will always remind you of 2008?
Its impossible for me to pinpoint one song as they all are so tied emotionally to different moments and experiences.
Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder? richer or poorer?
Sadder, but looking forward to some changes
What do you wish you'd done more of?
Taking time for myself, being productive, READING, writing more, working out, planning and following through
What do you wish you'd done less of?
Procrastinating, spending money
How will you be spending Christmas?
Done. Spent Christmas at my sister's in Memphis with mom, Beth, Gregg, and Ryalnd
Did you fall in love in 2008?
.....
How many one-night stands?
none
What was your favorite TV program?
I don't own a TV, but sometimes I caught House at Vicky and Clarence's and a few other random shows at Mary and Char's.
Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Nope.
What was the best book you read?
I read a few, but I remember most Lady Chatterley's Lover. I need to read more.
What was your greatest musical discovery?
Because of the recommendations of friends: The Wood Brothers, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Clack Mountain String Band, Ryan Adams, Mike Chappelear, Swell Season...
What did you want and get?
stronger friendships
What did you want and not get?
....
What was your favorite movie of this year?
I have no idea. Movies mesh into time
What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Turned 32. Spent it with friends, I think.
What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I don't know. It was pretty satisfying with good friends, support, good times, good music.
How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Casual, whatever.
What kept you sane?
Friends, long walks
Which celebrity/public figures did you fancy the most?
eh.
What political issue stirred you the most?
the election was a big deal all year but I didn't focus on it until October; Mountaintop Removal
Who did you miss?
Family, friends who graduated and moved away, all the Berea folks when I moved away in October
Who was the best new person you met?
There's no ONE person I think, but actually getting to know and see more of the friends I already had.
Any regrets?
No. I said what I needed to say and did what I felt I could do. All is good.
Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
good energy equals good times.
At Glen's house with a bunch of friends, listening to folks jam, enjoying good food, good wine, good friendships. At midnight I remember sitting on the wooden steps between the kitchen and the back room where the wood stove is listening to Carol play something on the guitar as people came in to listen, too.
What was your status by Valentines Day?
single; spending time with a good friend
Were you in school anytime this year?
no
Did you have to go to the hospital?
no
Did you have any encounters with the police?
I was slow getting my tags renewed and got a ticket for that. Had to go to court and apologize and get them immediately.
Where did you go on vacation?
I don't really vacation. I did go to the Appalachian String Band Festival for the whole week in August, and I went to Clear Creek Festival for the whole weekend. Those were great times.
What did you purchase that was over 100?
banjo, rental car a few times, plane tickets (reimbursed)
Did you know anybody who got married?
yes, but I can't recall all of them right now. So many did, though.
Did you know anybody who passed away?
no
Did you move anywhere?
I moved in October from Kentucky to Oklahoma; I also moved from my apartment in June to a friend's guest room for two months in town, and then moved again at the end of August to another friend's guest room for a month in the country before moving to OKC.
What concerts/ shows did you go to?
No large circuit concerts. I heard Clack Mountain String Band, Mitch Barrett, MudPi, Red State Ramblers, Erynn Marshall, Blind Corn Liquor Pickers, etc.
Describe your birthday
My 32nd birthday... I had just moved into Vicky and Clarence's place. I don't think much happened. Probably went for a walk.
What is the one thing you thought you would not do, but did, in 2008?
hmph!
What have been your favorite moments?
rallying with KFTC at the Frankfort courthouse on Valentine's Day, going with a friend to Al's Bar later that evening to hear Blind Corn Liquor Pickers and others, all writing group sesssions, long walks, all MudPi/Like How?/Sundogs gatherings and jams, the "goodbye apartment" dinner at my place in June, staying up all night Friday night at Clifftop in August, great music and gathering at Clear Creek Festival on Saturday night, when it dawned on me that I have a collection idea for a series of poems, seeing a deer in a field on August 13 during a meteor shower and listening to Leonard Cohen, long talks, whiskey evenings, the early-July drive through Western KY to see a friend and to see family in Memphis.
Any new additions to your family?
One cousin married, another cousin announced she's pregnant.
What was your best month ?
hmm... maybe either February, March, or April. August and September were good, too. I can't pick one.
Who has been your best drinking buddy ?
Phoebe at times, Michael at others
Made new friends?
strengthened friendships and made a few new ones
Favorite night out?
February 14th (KFTC Rally and Al's Bar music), and that all-night music evening at Clifftop, and one bourbon night in May
Other than home, where did you spend most of your time?
Berea Coffee & Tea
Be honest - did you watch American Idol?
no
Change your hairstyle?
trimmed and cut it a few times, dyed it a few times trying to get it back to its natural color
Have any car accidents?
no
How old did you turn this year?
32
Do you have a New Year's resolution ?
still thinking about them
Do anything embarrassing?
certainly
Buy anything new from eBay?
no
get married or divorced?
no
Get arrested?
no
Been snowboarding?
no.
Did you get sick this year?
a couple times with a bad head cold or sinus allergy reaction. Nothing serious.
Are you happy to see 2008 go?
there were mostly good times, so I am sad to see it go but hope 2009 doesn't hold back
Been naughty or nice?
ha! yes, a little bit of both
--- stole this one from Beth B. ---
What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
stay up all night at Clifftop; move from KY to OK; make masks based on poetic personas; drink bourbon; drive a U-Haul truck with my car in tow on a trailer across KY, TN, AR, and OK
Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I had stuff I wanted to work on, but I didn't call them resolutions, and I don't remember what they were
Did anyone close to you give birth?
Family friends in MS did
Did anyone close to you die?
no
What countries did you visit?
none
What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Better self-discipline, more money, less procrastination, stronger self-determination
What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Mostly times that aren't huge moments to others but have a sense of deepness to me, mostly spending time with friends, particular feelings and moments like sitting on the wood steps between Glen's kitchen and the wood stove room on 2007's New Year's Eve, talking and listening to a friend give suggestions on a collection of my poems, standing with Teri at the rally in Frankfort shouting and chanting, seeing the deer in the field on a meteor shower night in August.... Moments of emotion.
What was your biggest achievement of the year?
landing a job, working longer and more seriously on my poetry (though I still need to work more on it)
What was your biggest failure?
hmm... I don't know.
Did you suffer illness or injury?
no
What was the best thing you bought?
entrance fee to the Appalachian String Band Festival, banjo lessons
Whose behavior merited celebration?
my fellow writerly friends, Phoebe, MudPi, SunDogs...
Where did most of your money go?
coffee
What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Appalachian String Band Festival, and most gatherings at Glen's
What song will always remind you of 2008?
Its impossible for me to pinpoint one song as they all are so tied emotionally to different moments and experiences.
Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder? richer or poorer?
Sadder, but looking forward to some changes
What do you wish you'd done more of?
Taking time for myself, being productive, READING, writing more, working out, planning and following through
What do you wish you'd done less of?
Procrastinating, spending money
How will you be spending Christmas?
Done. Spent Christmas at my sister's in Memphis with mom, Beth, Gregg, and Ryalnd
Did you fall in love in 2008?
.....
How many one-night stands?
none
What was your favorite TV program?
I don't own a TV, but sometimes I caught House at Vicky and Clarence's and a few other random shows at Mary and Char's.
Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Nope.
What was the best book you read?
I read a few, but I remember most Lady Chatterley's Lover. I need to read more.
What was your greatest musical discovery?
Because of the recommendations of friends: The Wood Brothers, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Clack Mountain String Band, Ryan Adams, Mike Chappelear, Swell Season...
What did you want and get?
stronger friendships
What did you want and not get?
....
What was your favorite movie of this year?
I have no idea. Movies mesh into time
What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Turned 32. Spent it with friends, I think.
What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I don't know. It was pretty satisfying with good friends, support, good times, good music.
How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Casual, whatever.
What kept you sane?
Friends, long walks
Which celebrity/public figures did you fancy the most?
eh.
What political issue stirred you the most?
the election was a big deal all year but I didn't focus on it until October; Mountaintop Removal
Who did you miss?
Family, friends who graduated and moved away, all the Berea folks when I moved away in October
Who was the best new person you met?
There's no ONE person I think, but actually getting to know and see more of the friends I already had.
Any regrets?
No. I said what I needed to say and did what I felt I could do. All is good.
Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
good energy equals good times.
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