 It's true, when I first saw the tree in Monument Square the day after it was erected, I thought, it is a bit sparse. There are so few branches, the entire trunk is visible.
But now that its festooned with lights, and it's magical. The trunk is wrapped with lights and the lights from one side shine through to the other. It's fabulous. This week I struggled with my floral collage series, afraid I couldn't make anything new or different, or perfect. So I did nothing. Until I got so frustrated I just sat at my desk and waited for my hands to pick up the scissors and start. What came wasn't perfect, but it was a start and now I've got not just one, but two completed collage pieces. Waiting for perfection or expecting perfection isn't productive. What is, is starting. Moving forward until what you're doing somehow finds its own way. Like the lights on the tree in Monument Square, what you start with may not be perfect or what you expected, but stay with it. What you end up with may light the world around you.
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 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 Story Starters along with the Sunday email, musings and inspiration delivered to your inbox
 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.  We went to different schools in different towns, but when the discussion about school lunches landed on Sloppy Joe's, we compared notes and found ourselves reading the same textbook. Spiced ground beef in tomato sauce, straight-up ... no diced green pepper or chopped onion ... served on a hamburger bun with a side of cut corn and tater tots. We search for recipes and (even though Nat'l Sloppy Joe Day falls on Monday this week), decided to make it the Saturday night special. We considered updating the menu, adding the green pepper and onion found in so many recipes, or switching out the white bread hamburger bun for whole wheat ... nah. And the corn? Maybe a green vegetable would be a better choice. Probably. But no, it had to be corn. And finally, the tater tots. Would you like a side of tater tots with that? Yes, please. It may not rank as the healthiest, most well-rounded meal, but it hit every note on the school lunch scale of nostalgia. The only thing missing was that chocolate frosted peanut butter bar I remember. And of course, because one thing always leads to another ... and, what's school without homework, there's a new assignment: Find a recipe for those chocolate frosted peanut butter bars. Do you have a favorite memory of school lunch? Was it cafeteria style, packed in a lunch box, or a brown paper bag? Is there a lunch you'd want to recreate? Make it.  3 Reasons to Write a Letter
1. It’s Good Writing Practice The elements of a good story can easily be applied to letter writing . . . paying attention to the opening line, the order of your paragraphs, the flow from one to another, and your conclusion, can help hold a letter together and make it a more interesting read. If you write about your garden, write about your prickly cucumbers and the tomato vines, laden with clusters of pale orange cherry tomatoes. Not sure what to write about? Write about your day, what you saw on your walk around the neighborhood, or what you made for dinner last night. 2. People love getting mail It’s why we check our mailboxes . . . the chance there might be something there. No matter how often there’s nothing, there’s the chance that today may be the day. Write to someone you know and turn mailbox disappointment into delight! 3. Finish (or start) a conversation It happens all the time, you start an interesting conversation with a friend or relative, only to be interrupted. Drop a short note in the mail saying how good it was to talk. You never know, someone might surprise you and write back. It does happen!  Dinner may be late tonight We'll blame it on the clock ... on daylight saving time and the bewilderment it creates in the long shadows of the afternoon sun in the decorative patterns that inch across the wall and lull us into thinking it's earlier than it is when the clocks spring forward More doodling ...  This is a drawing I created ... and the inspiration for the 3-D wire replica above. It's all a bit wonky, but it cast the right light and gave me the idea for today's poem.
We often think that writing memoir or our stories requires big events or a lifetime of adventure. That's a lot of pressure. Why not start with small moments that make you pause? Every year daylight saving time messes with my timing. For a week or so, it's either later or earlier than I think. It's easy to imagine we are ruled by the clock and the ping of our phones, but on occasions like this, it's nice to know nature's light still rules the day. Go ahead, write about something small, you've got time.  How a simple idea grew in something (almost) too much to handle .. and why I didn't give up When I started my Solitaire project, the idea was to create a simple book from a poem I wrote. What I ended up with was far more complicated ...  When I decided to use the poem to create a small book, it was an exercise in bookmaking. A one-off experiment. Once I decided to make the book, I thought it might be nice to make a box to hold it. And then ... if there's a box, why not include a deck of cards. This is about a card game after all. And then ... what if someone opens the box, reads the story and wants to play a game of Solitaire but doesn't know how? I must include instructions. But I can't just copy the instructions, that would be plagiarism. I'd have to write them in my own words. And then ... written instructions are good, but a diagram would be helpful. It seemed with each problem solved, I created more work for myself.  What have I gotten myself into? It was a lot. But there was still one unanswered question. What about illustrations? There are minimal pages in the book ... illustrations would add bulk and make it more visually interesting. But this time, my go-to art of collage didn't seem like the best option. Some recent explorations in doodling provided the answer. Simple black and white drawings of the playing card symbols: ace, club, diamond, heart.  Why I didn't give up ... It's simple, really. I've got too many unfinished projects on hand already. I wanted to finish this one. How I did it ... When I became frustrated with one bit, I turned to another. Building the clamshell box was the most difficult element. When I got frustrated with the box, I moved to work on the book. When the book hit a standstill. I switched to writing and illustrating the instructions.  Serendipity in the form of a deadline ... Each week I create the Story Starters calendar and looking ahead in February, I spotted Play More Cards Day ... on the 26th. It was weeks out and I decided it offered the incentive and deadline needed to get the job done. I almost gave up ... There was so much about this project that was new to me, that fought me, that made me doubt myself, made me ask, Why bother? So why did I finish it? Well, I shared it with you early on and wanted to be able to say I did it. Finished the job. And, it was important to me.  Like I mentioned earlier, I have lots of half-finished and half-baked ideas sitting idle. Some I want to finish, others I know I'll never go back to. This one holds special meaning. It wasn't easy, but it's done ... and yes, it was close ... I finished it late in the afternoon on the 26th. Will I make another? Hmmm, not so sure. Is it perfect? Far from it. But wow, doesn't it feels good open the box and see what's inside! Is there a project you've started but haven't finished? Is it time to give it up ... or finish it?   A do-si-do and nowhere to go We came face to face in a standstill at the end of the aisle across from where the whipped cream in a can sits on the top shelf of the refrigerated section against the wall he shifted to his left I shifted to my right and we were back where we started head to head cart to cart A do-si-do with nowhere to go So he called it ... with a nod of the head he dipped to his right and I did too pushing forward we passed one another shoulder to shoulder a side-stepping sashay that ended with a two-step twist when he said ... thanks for the dance.  A month of distractions
In January, when shorter days lead to restless evenings When watching and reading turn to too much ... too much watching too much reading When my mind and hands are hungry for activity even though I'm feeling lazy I need something to do, but just a snack, thank you A little something that's not too much of a commitment, but interesting enough to engage I grab a pen and a notebook and sketch something And it's no good It never is and I wonder why I keep trying Something's off ... always And I never have the patience or interest to do any better So I cover it with what does feel good and better ... collage Leaf after leaf branch after branch it comes together I get lost in the colors, the process, and when I'm done, I rinse my sticky fingers and step away from the table  Butterflies in your stomach? Though The Great British Baking Off and its spinoff, Junior Bake Off, have been broadcast for sometime, only recently have I settled in to watch more than just an episode here and there. I'm hooked. Part of the appeal is how cheerful it is. Some of it comes from the setting ... an open-air tent on a green lawn, the bright colors on the mixers, and generous dash of humor offered by the comedians who banter with the bakers. But there's more to it. There's the grit and determination of the bakers themselves. Especially the junior bakers. When the dough doesn't rise, the caramel burns, or the cake topples, they hang in there. And start over. Again and again. What looks like a looming disaster is somehow salvaged and sometimes, turned into a show-stopping winner. Tomorrow the calendar recognizes Idiom Week and when I searched for idioms, "butterflies in your stomach" caught my eye. The bakers start each competition with butterflies in their stomachs. They're nervous and excited ... each and every time. And they keep going. It's a good reminder to viewers like you and me to hang in there. To keep going ... even when we're not sure how. To try new things. I'm still struggling with the making of my solitaire book and box, but I'm not going to stop ... though I've been tempted. One of the biggest challenges was to find a way to make a box that would hold both the book and a deck of cards ... and I finally figured it out.  A well for the cards to sit in, with the book sitting on top of the well. That had me stumped for a while, too ... until I realized I could measure and make a dummy version to test it.
There have been a lot of heavy sighs and there's still a lot of figuring to be done, but I'm determined. Are you working on a project that's got you frustrated or stumped? A sentence, paragraph, or chapter that won't come together? A dropped stitch in a knitting project? A painting, skiing, or woodworking technique you just can't grasp? Keep trying ... and like the bakers, you'll get there. The jigsaw puzzle has been on the table for five days. Most of the pieces are in place. What's left will be the most difficult ... lots of similar looking patterns and colors. The first day was relatively easy. After finding and fitting all the pieces that made the outside border, I pushed away from table feeling good. The next day, I spent about an hour fitting the pieces together and then my success rate started to dip; I couldn't fit anymore pieces together. Time to stop. When I went back to it the next day, I sat down, looked at one piece and knew just where to put it. The day before I couldn't find a match and then, the following day, with fresh eyes, new matches appeared. Effortlessly. I also found answers to questions I was struggling with on my book project. The Quiet Shuffle of Cards started with the idea of a small accordion book to hold a poem I wrote. I created an early sample, a simple book, and was pleased with it. But then, I did some research and saw other books. Beautiful books housed in beautiful boxes with trinkets and inserts, and my project went from a simple accordion style book with printed pages to a book with hand-lettered pages, illustrations, and a box ... to include a deck of cards and instructions for playing Solitaire ... way more complicated. And, I got stuck.  I've never made a handmade book, let alone a box. The hand lettering was looking good, but still, it needed work.
The book holding the poem is larger than a deck of cards. How do I balance that? I couldn't figure it out. So I stepped away and focused on the jigsaw puzzle. When I sat down again to focus on the book, solutions surfaced and the project moved forward. It was a good reminder. By stepping away and concentrating on other things, we can find answers to pesky problems. Take a break, and the pieces may just fall into place. January is Hobby Month. What are you working on and how's it going? Is it time to take a break? The Festival of Winter Walks encourages us all to get outside when it's cold and the days are short. Last year on a walk through the woods, I took a series of photos, converted them to black and white, and love how they look. Are you ready? Let's go for a walk ... I was glad to see this tree hadn't let go of its leaves, it seemed to welcome us into the woods.  The stream below the bridge is frozen and the boards creak underfoot as we cross. Note the white trail blaze. Do you see it?  Snow blankets the ground like frosting ... all the way to the edge of the stream. When we stand still long enough to calm our breathing, we can hear the water trickle over the rocks.  Heart shaped pockets of snow and deep wells around tree trunks.  Today is a good day for a walk. Tomorrow, too. To make the most of your winter walk, bundle up. Wear layers you can unzip and unbutton as your body warms (and it will). Grab a hat, gloves, and wear proper shoes or boots. You might also tuck a few hard candies into one pocket ... one for you and a few to share. Vary your walks from in-town sidewalks to parks, and wooded trails ... to keep things interesting, create challenges for yourself: - take note (and photos) of seasonal changes - say hello to everyone you pass - count how of many and what type of dogs, cats, or birds you see - take along a snack for an impromptu picnic - exhale and watch your breath to see which way the wind is blowing - and be sure to look around ... and up  |
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