 With their
belted parkas, buffalo plaids, fleece collars, and quilted hoodies fashion-forward pugs, pound puppies, terriers, hounds, and retrievers prance and strut the sidewalk like it's Fashion Week as they brace against winter's cold in their canine couture, they set tongues, and tails, to wagging ----------------- While winter is suppose to be cold, this winter has been unusually cold. Below average temperatures, with windchill temperatures dipping into the single digits. It's no wonder we're seeing more dogs wearing jackets. No doubt the jackets helps keep the dogs warm , but something tells me the fashion is more for the person at the other end of the lease.
0 Comments
Canned foods are made to last, and because February is Canned Food Month, I’ve pulled a few cans from the shelf of an old project. These canned goods, like Popeye’s spinach are designed to give you a boost ...  Some gumption. This can is loaded with courage and spunk. And it’s fortified. Because sometimes we have to convince ourselves to jump.  A little adventure. Like the can says, adventure adds excitement and interest to all that you do. Take a break, do something different, and see if it doesn’t change or your shift your thinking around something you're trying to figure out.  And finally, love and kindness. This can is supersized and packed with generosity. Give yourself a healthy serving ... and share it with others. Popeye may or may not have gotten the added strength and power he needed from that can of spinach, but he thought he did. And sometimes that's all that matters.
No promise these cans will do the trick, but, like most things, if we think we can, well, maybe we will. Get your canned goods here. Print a copy and share some gumption, adventure, and love with someone who needs a boost.  the overnight storm fills the sky with snow and and blankets the ground in white, lighting the night like a full moon lantern When I woke during the night, the room was filled with soft light and the windows had a glow about them. I knew it wasn't the moon, it was obscured by cloud cover. It was snow in the air, on the trees, and the ground illuminating the landscape.
When something catches your attention, use it as a prompt, a way to capture the moment ... with a photograph, a drawing, or in this case, collage+poetry. It's a short poem and a simple collage. Simplicity can sometimes break the barrier to creativity and give you a place to begin. Start small, and see what happens.  What are you working on?
The thing about telling people what you're doing is ... they ask about it. And that's good. It can motivate you to keep going, offer a push when you're in a lull, or even bolster your confidence knowing someone is interested. But it also means you'll probably want to finish whatever that thing is. To keep the promise you made ... mostly to yourself. A few good things Over the last few years I have maintained a journal to list of a few good things about the day. It's a simple, but interesting exercise. Some days it's easy: Wordle in two (rare and very exciting), pepper jelly with cheddar cheese on a cracker, or Ollie the orange cat rolling on the sun-warmed winter driveway. But other days, it takes a bit. The journal sits on a side table along with a pen to remind me to make my entries. The so-so, or not-so good days, are when it's most rewarding. When it's most helpful. Because it forces me to think beyond the worry, the mistakes, and the mishaps. To re-examine my day and find a few good things, despite it all. And they're always there. The pattern the blinds make on the wall when the afternoon sun comes around; the surprising, fresh scent of a cucumber when it's sliced; or the person who paused and waited to hold the door for me as we entered the store. Thinking about a few good things is helpful, but writing them down helps to solidify the goodness. Page after page after page. I've mentioned the botanical journal in earlier emails because I want to share the idea with you, so you can list a few good things about your day, too. After mulling over how to illustrate it, a botanical theme seemed most fitting. Can't see the forest for the trees This week I struggled to measure where I am with the project. Too many pieces, nothing holding them all together. So I taped some of the illustrations to wall and began to think ... about the page order, and whether or not the pages should be lined, blank, or a combination; whether or not it should be strictly collage, or mixed with line drawings. More collage pages with the black background? Lots of questions. I'll get to all of them eventually, and keep going. When will it be ready? Not as soon as I'd hoped. I thought it would be done by now, so I'm shooting for the end of the month. I'll keep you posted. Tell me about a project you're working on ... and what do you think, more pages with the black background?  He gathers his boots, buckets,
and creepers. Grabs his pack basket, traps, hand auger, and sled, and stops on the way for bait. He warms himself drilling through the ice, inches thick, until he breaks through to the water below. He baits the hook, drops the line through the hole, sets the flag, and depending on the lake or pond he's on, begins to imagine. The bass, trout, salmon, pickerel, or perch swimming under the surface. But it's a waiting game, where patience braces against anticipation, and the cold. When a flag is tripped, he wonders, is it a wind flag, stolen bait, or is there a fish on the line? Hand over hand he hauls the line feeling for the resistance that will tell him, fish on. And so begins a real fish tale.  That's what I told myself
last week: use your imagination. My floral collage work was stalled. I'd finished themost recent and wasn't sure what to do next. Until I saw a story on wallpaper. The designs were fanciful and the colors were, let's say, creative. While the floral shapes were representative of flowers and greenery one might recognize, they were rendered in colors that were bold and daring. Different from what's expected. And it opened my mind to new ideas and color combinations. I pawed through my stash of painted papers, pulled a deep blue and beige (which frankly I thought I'd never use so a prominently), and decided that would be it. Just two colors for this collage. The collage is nearly done, and when I look at it, I'm reminded that sometimes being stalled can be helpful. With an idea in mind, even one that is stalled, your brain will keep working on it. New information will register and steer you toward new solutions. If you've got a project where progress is slower than you'd like, take a break and look around. Something might catch your eye, change your perspective, and set you on a new path.  Got a hobby?
More than one? Sometimes I think my hobby is finding new hobbies. Curiosity gets the best of me and I find myself trying this, then that, and then something else. Occasionally something sticks—like baking. I’ve gone from skiing, not so successful, to snowshoes; from seed packs to starter plants. Tried tap dancing ... it made me dizzy (but I loved the shoes), and paper mache (too messy). But I always return to collage. Easy to set-up and breakdown, it’s a perfectly imperfect art that allows me to make mistakes and keep going. Writing challenges me, and my hobbies (successful or not), give me lots of writing material. I hope you have a hobby (or like me, a few), or you’ll try something new this month. Because no matter what you try, hobbies can banish boredom, lift your spirits, and bolster your self confidence. Give it a go.  IS IT WORTHY?
Does the dandelion know it's the dandy of the dinner plate, revered for its nutritional and medicinal properties? Or that it's a weed? A flower reviled by landscapers and gardeners alike? Hardly. The dandelion grows ... thrives even, in the crack of a sidewalk, the vacant lot, and the lush green grass. Persistent, resilient, and radiant until it becomes a puffball of seeds carrying wishes and dreams with the wind. ------ When I considered a collage of the dandelion for inclusion in the upcoming floral journal, I wondered if readers might wonder if it was worthy. If you'd think it was worthy. It is after all, a simple, common flower. It's not a showy flower like the cosmos, the dahlia, or the sunflower. But true to its nature, it took root and lingered in my thoughts until it became clear ... it is worthy. A symbol of persistence and grit and beauty. Still a work in progress, my collage is inspired by collage artist Mary Delaney; set against a black background, its simplicity shines.  With all the flowers gone dormant, bare trees, and muted colors, you might think there's not much to see. In this winter landscape.  But look! There's color and texture ... and love etched in unexpected places.  The secret of course is to watch for it. To train your eyes to see the color and shapes and signs of the beauty that surrounds us ... no matter the season.   The plow RUMBLES down the road, and like the returning tiDE on a flat sand beach, pushes wAVes of snow to the side of the road, sPiLLiNg and rolling it into driveways and waLKways, SiGnaLLinG the tiMe is riGht for BuiLDing cAstles and maKing new fRienDs It's not always easy to find the motivation to bundle up and go outside on cold, snowy days, but when the storm passes and the sun comes out, a snow-covered landscape is a wonderland. There's a hush and fresh feeling in the air. And if the snow is good for snowballs, it's good for making snow people. Oceana above was one in a series of snofolk I made for winter greetings. She, like all the others, lasted a few good days before her seashell nose and muscle-shell necklace started to drop. She was quickly and gracefully dismantled. Whether it's snowing or the sun is shining where you live, I hope you'll find your way outdoors today. Despite the snowfall, winter has yet to arrive, but with visions of spring atop my desk, here's a close-up peek at another floral collage in the works the upcoming journal, A Garden of Good Things.   Every day's Thanksgiving We never sat together at the table, but but we shared meals ... Warm fish chowder delivered in a wide-mouth mason jar He said it reminded him of Friday night fish suppers and the chowder his mother made when he was a boy He marveled at the dice-cut potatoes, chunks of cod, and the thin, soup-like broth he slurped from the bottom of the bowl He said after the first spoonful he knew the only thing missing from the recipe were his lips That made us laugh And then there was Thanksgiving Year after year we invited him in, but year after year he declined Thanking us with clasped hands and a slight bow He wouldn't join us at the table, but he welcomed the overstuffed bag of Thanksgiving we left under the hood of the rusted-out grill that stood in his front yard next to the flagpole He was a Vietnam veteran who greeted neighbors with gusto Who, at the sight of you, would fling his arm out the side window of his pickup truck to deliver a broad wave Who'd yell, Go home and hug your baby Who every year, reminded us to wear long sleeves and bring a broomstick to push back the thorny branches and help ourselves to the blackberries that grew wild in his yard Who, the day after Thanksgiving would leave a message that sounded more like a love letter For what he deemed the silkiest mashed potatoes he'd ever eaten, turkey that had him licking his fingers, and pie so sweet he could manage only one or two bites because he wanted more tomorrow Who would, no matter the time of year, turn his palms skyward and part ways with the words: Every day's Thanksgiving And we knew he was right Yes, Irving, every day is Thanksgiving.  Sign up today to get your Calendar of Days delivered to your inbox, every Sunday!
 Tree House The trees, like stick figures, stand bare against the sky. Stripped of their leaves, they reveal what's been hidden ... Squirrel nests in the crook of the highest branches Some, like efficiency apartments, are small and compact Others, like penthouse apartments, sprawl a massive weave of twigs and leaves When a light breeze blows, I imagine the sway of the tree lulling the squirrels in sweet slumber But when the gale winds blow, I wonder ... are they tossed about like a ship at sea, pitching to the left, then right, clawing at the soft moss that lines their padded drey? Or are they cocooned, curled tight against the wind with a tickling tail teasing a twitching nose?   Stories Worth Sharing: On The Cat Walk On The Cat Walk
There was a whisper of a chance anyone she asked was missing the gray cat her neighbor, two houses down, found on the stoop last night I wasn't missing a cat and no one had mentioned it here, five blocks from where it was found Not until two days later when we heard the children, like mewling kittens, searching for the cat They were walking and knocking, house to house, door to door with their mother repeating their plea again and again we lost our cat, have you seen a cat? a gray cat? we lost our cat, have you seen a cat? a gray cat? When they came to the door and once again said we lost our cat, have you seen a cat? a gray cat? I said I hadn't seen a cat, a gray cat ... but five blocks away someone said they found a cat, a gray cat The news, like catnip infused them with them giddy anticipation, leaving them unable to focus So we walked together to the house five blocks away where the cat was found on the stoop of the house on the corner Like a merry band in a parade, the cat walk took us one block up, three down, and one over And there she was, the cat, the gray cat just one block from home, behind a floor-to-ceiling glass door, in the house on the corner where she was found The cat preened and paced at the rush of children on the other side of the glass, and on our walk home we purred over the success of their clawing persistence in finding their cat the gray cat  He came from the right as we crossed the intersection, circled wide, and sped down the road ahead of us. We were on foot ... he, an electric skateboard.
His pajama-like pants billowed as he sailed along, leaning into s-curves that spanned the roadway, and we marveled at how quickly ... and quietly he moved. And stopped. It was an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. And as casual as the movement that got him to where he was, he stepped off the board, squatted, and extended his hand ... toward Marshmallow. Marshmallow is the neighborhood cat everyone knows. She was racing toward him, eager for a greeting. She's hard to resist. Unlike other cats in the neighborhood that leer from the grass or scurry under a nearby bush at the sight of passersby, Marshmallow comes running. She mews and circles one and all, drawing in as much affection as she's able to muster. Seeing Marshmallow command such attention made me think of other animals in the neighborhood we've come to know. What animals are on your list?  An exercise in six-word storytelling. The late winter ice storm left the two pine trees in the side yard heavily damaged, leaving us with broken branches, split trunks, and heavy hearts.
Heeding the warnings of nature and arborists alike, we made the hard, but necessary, decision to cut them down. Yes, there is more light coming through where the trees once stood, but still, there's a sense of loss. So I wrote a six-word story about it. Timber call: pining for what's gone When I read it aloud, it prompted others as we reflected on the situation and what was lost and what was gained: Old pines needle us with worry Change lets new things take root Six words can say so much. If there's a story you want to write but don't know where to start, try a six-word story. It can help you get to the heart of what you want to write about. And that may be enough. Or, it could be the beginning of a longer story. What's the underlying theme about the story you want to write? With the examples above, you can see there's the expression of missing what's gone, a bit about worry, and the opportunity for growth. Challenge: write a six-word story about change ... and share it with someone.  The flock of birders stood shoulder to shoulder along the edge of the pond.
With binoculars held high, they zoomed in and listened to the whispers and murmurations, examined their crossbill beaks and fanciful feathers. When a man on the edge of the group lowered his binoculars, I sidled up to him and asked, what are you looking at? Unruffled by my presence, he turned and said, "Absolutely nothing," and we laughed. Like me, he was not a birder. He was a fisherman surfing on the wing of the avid birder to his right. Caught in the crosswinds of the spring migration, we joined the flock, and under the wing of our eagle-eyed guide and his dancing green light, we found ourselves flitting from tree to tree, branch to branch, and bird to bird. Deep in camouflage we zoomed in on the yellow-throated warbler, scarlet tanager, a crow-size Cooper's Hawk, and speckled wood thrush. The great egret and its reflection in the morning's still, dark waters seemed more painterly than real, and the unblinking black-crowned night heron's regal pose was magnified in our guide's sighting scope. When the sounds of a nearby construction site crashed through the birdsong, one birder commented that what we'd just heard might be the sound of a pile-driving plover. What a lark! ------ Writing notes: Writing this story soon after the event made it easier to remember small details. If you're not able to write about an event shortly after it happens, try making notes for later. Writer Anne Lamont likes index cards. She carries a set of cards with her and makes brief notations about events, overheard conversations, and thoughts that come to her when she's out and about. Some she uses right away, some not until years later. Think about how you can capture what matters before it takes flight. Try different methods to find what works: notes on your phone, a small notebook, or like Anne Lamont, index cards. And ... a word about using idioms, clichés, and common phrases. There were just too many to ignore. Yes, this story is filled with common bird phrases, cliché, and idioms, but they are used in a tongue-and-cheek manner. Unless you're doing something similar, take the time to write your story using your own words. In most cases, your words will be more interesting and have more impact.  Why is it you like to do what you do (bake, play tennis, write, sew, dance, or garden) for hours on end?
What is it about your hobbies, passions, and pastimes that keeps you interested? Keeps you practicing and returning over and over again? Is it one thing, or some sort of kismet in the pairing of opportunity and interest? When I think about why I enjoy baking, writing, and collage, I can't say there's one reason, but rather a combination. With baking, I like the order of it all. The ingredients for most recipes are readily available, and if you take your time, measure, mix, and bake according to the recipe, sweet, shareable treats are nearly guaranteed. With collage, it's the ease of set-up, how quickly I can see results, and the perfectly imperfect nature of it. And it's never boring. The subject matter I can weave into my collage work is endless, and it pairs well with my writing. But there have been many other times when it was best to take a bow and exit early ... like with tap dancing. That was difficult. I loved the shoes. And then there was the time (not too long ago) when I did a few rounds with wire sculpture. Far too much wrestling with unruly coils. When I nearly poked out an eye, I knew it was time to move on. The red feather collage above is an early collage. Looking back at it now, I see sheet music starting to make an appearance in my work. So how do we know when something will stick? We don't. We just have to try. And give it time. Although I've completed two handmade books and I've got another in the works, I'm not convinced it's for me. But I'm sticking with it. For now. If you're just learning how to knit, play chess, strum the ukulele, or write a story, keep going. Do the thing. Practice. Watch for signs of improvement and progress. And practice some more. Or don't. Our hobbies, passions, and pastimes may challenge us, but in the end, the goal is to find something that lifts your spirits and bolsters your self confidence. And best of all, you get to decide when it's time to stop ... or hang in there. --------- Write about your process. What hurdles did you face? Why did you give up? Why did you stick with it? Readers want to know.  When the sap is running There's a house on the corner where they tap the maple trees Three trees, one bucket for each There's another house where they used to tap the trees, but don't anymore I wish they did That was the house where they put out the metal buckets The house that still taps the trees uses plastic buckets, sky blue If the light is right, you can see the sap level through the plastic and watch it rise, surge even, from one day to the next It's fascinating really, to see how much sap is released from the tree With the metal buckets, you can't see the sap level, but I prefer them anyway Camouflaged against the bark of the tree and the still-bare landscape, they cast a knowing silhouette ... A reminder that, although it's hard to see, change is upon us Cool nights will give way to warmer days, the sap will flow, and the flowers will, once again blossom Makes me wish I had a maple tree -------- Branching out ... The maple sugaring poem is a modified version of a piece I wrote a while ago. It came to mind when I was thinking of making a pop-up book and needed something to pop. It's the next step in my book-making journey.  Studying how to create a structure ... one that will open and close properly has me snipping, folding, and gluing long past my bedtime.
This is a prototype. Rough, inefficient, and utterly captivating. I'll keep you posted on how it's going.  The title of this story might also be "Don't try to do it all in one project." After finishing my Solitaire book, I wanted to try another using a poem I'd written about cooking with a friend. The collage of the Jiffy box was created when I wrote the poem, so I figured I was halfway there. Not quite. Like the first book, there were unexpected hurdles and so many decisions to make.  Though I do a lot of handmade collage work, most of my design work has been computer generated. As a graphic designer I've created posters, magazines ... and books ... on the computer. Books that are printed and bound in a print shop. Not by me, not by hand. Building a handmade book is new to me and it's been challenging.  Another problem was making the project more complicated than it needed to be ... like trying to hand letter the text or create pen and ink drawings to illustrate the book. It was all too overwhelming. My lettering wasn't good enough (in my eye) and the illustrations looked, well, too primitive. Collage is where I'm comfortable, so for now and for this book, I decided to stick with what I know. One learning curve at a time. The next problem was thinking it all had to be perfect. I ripped out, tore apart, and recreated many, many pages to get things "just right." Well, it's impossible, especially when so much is so new. Now that the book is done, I know the cover material is too thin. It's warping. The endpapers on the inside of the front and back covers don't line up exactly as they should. And the stitching that holds the book together is not quite right. It should extend further up and further down along the spine.  Some problems I recognized before the book was complete, but there had been so many delays and changes, I just had to let some be, and push forward. In the end, it's not perfect, but I'm pleased with the book, and here's why: When I decided to make the book, I hadn't read the story in a while. What a treat it's been to be taken back to that day in the kitchen. April is National Poetry Month. Both stories in my books came from short poems. Narrative poems. No rhyming, no formal structure. Are you interested in writing your stories? Try a narrative poem. Use a story you started in a letter, expand on a story you wrote in a journal, or one you mentioned in a diary. Explore a story that stays with you. It can be as short or long as it needs to be. Whether its making books by hand or writing stories, the most important thing is to start ... and keep stirring.  This is how it starts. I gather my supplies: my favorite pen (a thin marker), stationery, and stamps. I'm seated at the desk ready to write and my mind goes blank. I don't know where to start the letter I want to write. It doesn't happen every time, but often enough. And I imagine it sometimes happens to you. I get the letter writing jitters and am afraid I don't have anything interesting to say. When that happens, I remind myself ... 1) This is not a test. It's easy to feel like it's some sort of exam, as if your writing will be graded on how well you write or how interesting your stories are ... never mind how neat and legible your the handwriting is. When this happens, remember, the people you write to will be the most forgiving audience you'll ever find for your writing. They are not concerned about run-on sentences, missing commas, apostrophes, or your handwriting, because ... 2) People love getting mail. They really do. Don't hold back because you're feeling self conscious ... mail makes people happy. It really does. 3) Tell a story. And start with a strong opening: The neighbor's chickens are squawking. That was the opening line I used when I first discovered the power of storytelling in my letters. It was so much easier (and interesting) to start with a story. Less about me, more about whatever it was I was writing about. And start with a statement like I did with the chickens. Write something about that delicious meal you cooked last night ... and describe it in detail. What ingredients did you use? Did you have to search for a rare spice? Was the recipe a new one? A family favorite? Start there. Are you growing a garden? Planting seeds? What does the dirt feel like in your hands? Do you wear gardening gloves? When do you expect your first crop? Give them the date and tell them what you'll be harvesting. Write about that concert you went to. How's that project you're working on is going? What's working, what's not? People love stories, and you've got some good ones. Need more help? Order your copy of A Snail Mail Guide to Cursive Writing Practice. It has all the encouragement and tips you'll need to get started:
  p.s. Bonus tips ...
• Your writing will improve. Writing is like any other skill. You need to practice. The more you write, the easier it will get. And you may even get a letter or two in return! • Visit without traveling. Social media, texts, and phone calls are convenient, but there's something different about a letter. It gives people something to hold onto. The people you write to can be near or far. Either way, if you write, you'll make their day a good mail day. |
WhistleStop Blog
Rewrite the story of your day. 
|