“I think in terms of the day’s resolutions, not the year’s.” ~ Henry Moore

My indulgences this holiday season are threatening to turn me into a replica of  Henry Moore’s interpretation of the female body.

19-henry-moore-seated-woman

 

I’ve been taking a vacation with friends and family who have joined us here in Cabo for Christmas and New Years.  I’ve missed writing but I’ve resolved not to beat myself up with the things I’m not getting done, while enjoying our visitors.

Hope all of you are having a wonderful time during this holiday season.  I wish you all the best for 2009.  Look for me the first week of January, I’ll be back posting then, on a regular basis.   I’m imagining now that my first post of 2009 will be along the lines of spying a good diet.  

Feliz Navidad y un Próspero Año Nuevo

“A ratio of failures is built into the process of writing. The wastebasket has evolved for a reason.”~ Margaret Atwood

You’ve heard of ipod nano, well there also exists nano stories.  Small compact stories that in few words can be considered complete with a beginning, a middle and an end. 

Recently I came across a form of story telling I had never heard about, via a publication called Per Contra  They are looking for submissions for Fifty-fiver stories.  The guidelines are exact.  You write a story using only fifty-five words.  If that’s not enough of a challenge, in a fifty-fiver, the first sentence has to be ten words, the second sentence nine, the third sentence eight then seven… down to one.   

I love challenges, especially ones that make me work on grammar and story structure and I also like to take breaks from long, long stories that some days I wonder if I will ever finish.  So I wrote a fifty-fiver and I made myself submit it. Submitting was the real challenge, the writing was fun.  But, submitting is when you set yourself up for someone saying, thanks but no thanks.  

A few weeks after submitting, I got a very nice, thanks but no thanks letter by email saying they we are sorry they couldn’t use my nano story (no elaboration as to why, because it’s a form letter) but they looked forward to reading more of my work.

Now that I know my fifty-fiver is not going to be published, I can claim sole rights and post it on my blog, knowing my friends won’t reject it. :)

Are any of you interested in the challenge of writing a fifty-fiver?  I’d love it, if you would post your fifty-five words in the comment space or better yet, submit your work to Per Contra.

Come on try it!  I did.  I guarantee, no rejections.

 

                                   No More

My mama didn’t need any more babies, papa disagreed.

He wasn’t around much to notice he had nine.

My sister, Maria remembers mama saying, “No More.”

They say I burnt my mama’s insides.

Her hot blood followed me out.

Her screams, my cry meshed.

Now we are ten.

Maria holds us.

Papa drinks.

Alone.

WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS? ~ a documentary

Who Does She Think She Is?  is a film I’m excited to see after watching the trailers and reading the producer’s and artist’s web-site and their blog. 

What has caught my attention is the overall theme showing the daily cost when your artistic voice calls and the more specific theme of revealing the price women pay.  I can relate to the film.  I understand how artistic pursuits can be put on hold and saved for a time when it won’t take away from family and guaranteed, income careers.   Making choices and dealing with guilt are evidenced by my pile of unfinished writing projects. Most of them I’ll never go back to, the trail of those thoughts has grown over like the Mayan ruins obscured by the jungle.  

The good news is I’m older, - let me rephrase, –  the good news is I’ve paid attention to some lessons gleamed in my life and I now write new thoughts guilt free (until it’s time to make dinner for everyone). I’m better organized and I am no longer too stubborn (picture walking across a frozen piece of water in eight inch stilettos) to ask for help and to admit I’m not superwoman.  Asking for help was a big pond for me to cross.   

The bad news is I’m not likely to have a chance to see the movie Who Does She Think She Is? in the near future unless they have plans to bring it to Mexico soon.  Hope you get a chance to see it.  Here’s one of their theatrical trailers to help catch your interest.

“If you die in an elevator, be sure to push the Up button.”~ Sam Levenson

I almost died this morning, of embarrassment, when I logged onto my blog and saw that a post I was writing which was still in it’s very messy draft stage was no longer in the draft file but was published on my blog.  By accident yesterday, while I was writing, talking on the phone, telling Julian it was time to get ready for bed and feeding Bella, I hit the publish button that sits beside the save button.

I’m the type of writer who throws a lot onto a blank page and then I start mining the chaos.  I move words around, I change thoughts, I discover better ways to say what I want to say, I have fun, and before I hit publish, I reread to see if there is any semblance of sense.  But that darned save button sits beside the publish button and my slip of a finger publicly confirmed that things aren’t written, they’re rewritten.

I removed the post and have kept my fingers crossed that not too many people saw it.  I’ll revisit the intended post tomorrow and see if the intention of what I wanted to say comes back to me.  If not, there is another button close by, called Delete.  I know exactly where it is. 

keyboard

How beautiful it is to do nothing, and then rest afterward.~ Spanish Proverb

It’s Sunday, my favourite day of the week.  Sunday is family day, which loosely means we hang out.   On Sunday’s there is no requirement to dress up, drive any place, entertain anyone, work at anything.  It’s the day the alarm doesn’t go off at 6:00 a.m., the beds don’t get made, meals are haphazard, books are read, and puttering around is done.  

We’re not hard and fast about Slack Sundays, at times there are social plans that get accepted but it’s rare, mostly we happily say, sorry Sunday’s family day.  If pressed to reveal what it is we do on family day the answer is, “not much.”

Maybe we go for brunch, or play some golf, take a walk, a swim, a siesta, or watch a movie.  Some Sundays we do nothing more than enjoy pursuing our individual interests at home, happy with the knowledge each of us is close by.

Just thinking and writing about how relaxing today is, has me ready to take a nap. Hasta mañana!

Bella Siesta


All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind. ~ Kahlil Gibran

 

The Archer

The Archer

Do you remember the artist and poet Kahlil Gibran?  I know I keep dating myself. 

His book The Prophet was a favourite of mine. He wrote it in 1923 but it was the children of the sixties, as we searched for the deeper meanings to life that brought his work to cult level.  What appealed to me in his poetic essays was the logic of his insights into every day life.  I gravitate to logic.  

Reading poetry has a slowing down, calming affect on me.  I love poetry written in verse, in prose, in song and in the sounds of nature.  There can be exaggerations, personifications, similes or any form of figurative speech, tricks of the trade, but a poem has to make sense to me.  It has to have something in it that I can see and evoke an emotion that’s tangible.  

Kahlil Gibran didn’t give us crumbs he gave us a feast with his paintings and his writing.

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Speaking of crumbs, my mind had a great time sitting on the beach this past weekend thinking about the world I’m creating for Concepción (Concha) the protagonist in my book, inventing obstacles to throw in her way.  I’ve been letting the crumbs of these thoughts sprinkle out on the keyboard the last couple of days and have missed visiting my blog.  I like the variety of writing in my life.  One feeds off of the other, or to express it how Kahlil Gibran did:  

Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it so that the other half may reach you’.

They say that time changes things but you actually have to change them yourself.~ Andy Warhol

This weekend I’m doing something that doesn’t come easy to me.  I’m going with the flow.  

There is no school on Monday so with a three day “vacation” in front of us, a spur of the moment idea came up to go camping.  I’m a hotel person, not a camper. But, the place we’re going to, although it’s miles off the beaten track and you need a four wheel drive vehicle to get there it has bathrooms and a shower.  I don’t know what vision the rancher had when he set this up but I’m thankful to him.  I would not be a happy camper at all, without some comforts.  

I know the spot we’re going to, I’ve seen pictures.  It’s pristine, secluded and the ocean is ideal for swimming, and I’m taking a book that’s been waiting patiently on a shelf for a weekend like this.

Camping will not be a frequent activity for me but today, I’m enjoying having control over making this small change in life and going with the flow.  

Sometimes it’s good to jump into things you’re not that comfortable with, just to know you can.

jumping