A Garden of Delights

Archive for the ‘Self- exploration’ Category

The first thing one needs to do (if one wants to do anything) is to start…

13239297_10208935359048457_5614473794801101084_nThis is me starting…

…yet again.

It’s not a grand plan of attack yet.  It’s a baby step.  I don’t know where I’m going yet.  It involves writing and stories—I know that much at the moment.  It also involves trimming some things.

 

More on that later…

For today, just a quick “Hi, I’m back.”

And a bit of an update…  I’m writing again.  *whew*  It was hard going for a while.  I suspect every year it’s still going to be a bit hard to maintain any writing momentum around the holidays.  This year I almost wished I could embrace the normal busy-ness that normally takes one during that time.  Hopefully next year, and the years that follow, will get easier, and I can stop thinking about the should’ves and could’ves and the people gone.

I can only honor them one way—be the best person I can be.  When I was with them, they made me feel like I was that best person…

We all go somewhere, someday.  If it is a real place, then…  it’ll be fun to say “Hi!  You were right!” to them.

Oh, and my daily wordcount via 750words: 1031 words

I have bad habit I’d really like to break.

I tend to react, often quickly, often with great vigor, and…  often without much forethought.  In other words, I tend to overreact, fly off the handle and not think before doing so.

So very much not a good habit.

Some of this comes from the fact I’ve felt rushed to make decisions all my life.  We live in a world where instantaneous responses are demanded for more and more daily affairs.  A product of technology perhaps, though I didn’t grow up in the era of cellphones and email.

Hopefully his son got some letters from Dad

That said…  I often dream of those days when people would travel for days to carry a message from one person to another.  Imagine a note from a Roman Centurion to his family.  Some news would be missed in the weeks and months between letters, little events such as his son’s first steps would not be so vital to record in a letter as a count of the wool gathered from the sheep this past season or that Citizen Maxanimus had offered to tutor the young child for the small fee of two hens.

Today however, messages are traded back and forth at the speed of conversation.  Some people type better with their thumbs than they do with all their fingers combined.  And many of these people can’t use a pen except to scribble their name on some official forms or an electronic pad at the store.

With that kind of communication speed, it’s easy to expect near instant answers to every question that can be asked.  Extra company is coming over…  Can you pick up two loaves of Italian bread on the way home?  Oh, and XXYY can’t eat gluten, so can you also grab some rice?  (because, of course, company that didn’t plan to come until the last minute expects a feast when they arrive) Or the fear of relationship trouble … Are you mad?  You didn’t call this morning (because we need to call our dates the first thing we wake up or we clearly don’t like them)

Don’t we ever take time to process things anymore?  Is it so wrong to simply have a cuppa and maybe a dish of fruit and cheese or some snacks as opposed to a full meal when unexpected guests arrive?  Or to say…  “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming.  I was making X, but I can put that in the fridge for tomorrow if that doesn’t work and we can go to Smith’s Restaurant tonight.”

Yes, some decisions need to be made on a moment’s notice.  But we live in a world where every decision seems so urgent….  And I am not good at it.  I like to think my ideas through.  I panic.  I get frustrated.  I snap…

I’d like to change that about myself, but…  it’s not easy to do.  The best way I’ve discovered?  Refuse to make so many instantaneous decisions.  Demand time to let the ideas and possibilities simmer.  Something I have learned in my near-half-a-century of life is that there are second and third and fourth (and more) chances to redo those poor initial reactions.

Thankfully!

Some cool links on decision-making:

I forgot my last few weeks of posting (I know!  but at least the break in between wasn’t almost a year like I had done).  Who’d have thought it would be so hard to come up with single weekly blog post?

Thing is…  it hasn’t been a single post.  Just a single one here.

I’ve been busy, busy, busy over at my writing progress blog Many Worlds from Many Minds, and have been either posting there or commenting on the many wonderful participants of the Writing challenges I have been involved with: the Round of Words in 80 Days; Ready. Set. Write!; and the JuNoWriMo.  It was also the end of school for me at BCS (and homeschooling), so there were progress reports to make and assignments to review….

The plan this summer is to merge this blog with Many Worlds so I can dedicate my attention to maintaining one online home.  Or rather one blogging home…  with Facebook and Twitter and LinkedIn and… well, you get the idea.

But that’s for later this summer.  For now…  I just really wanted to both apologize to you all for being absent and to note a small change to the First Friday Photo blog hop I hold here on the 1st Friday of every month.

From now on, I’ll be opening the FFP linky up the week before the first Friday of each month so people have time to post their links.  The links should go active on the Friday.  This way people can schedule their posts somewhat, and they can have something to look forward to on First Fridays.  😀

Waiting for laughter

Waiting for laughter (cred: Eden Mabee)

Hope you’ll all join in.

I’m a huge fan of growth, personal growth especially.  It’s often as uncomfortable as all get-out, but I’m almost always glad for the experience.

Growth always comes in stages.  We notice certain stages (or rather the effects of those stages) more than others.  The painful ones, the sudden ones…  they are more visceral than the quiet ones, the ones where our mind are slowly spinning or where little cellular processes at last trigger responses in our bodies that move the next process and then the next….

But these slow, near invisible steps always lead to the next Eureka moment, the point where change is impossible to ignore.

This week,  I found myself moving with more of those awkward , discomfort, inducing periods of growth.  Three blog posts in particular played the parts of those invisible triggers…  thoughtful pieces that made me step back from the chaos of day-to-day life and look at where I really was and how I’d gotten here.

And, they also, like most things that spark reactions…  they helped me see possibilities for the future.

These posts, in no particular order, are:

Out of all the wonderful posts on the web, I was drawn to these three.  They resonated.  Something within me vibrated, breaking through walls and accumulated layers of denial and fear.  They said “Respond; React, Change and Grow”, just as I’m sure the triggers that inspired their creation did.

I don’t know what form the change will take; things are still moving within my mind and body.  Something is happening…  I’m somewhat aquiver with anticipation.  Someplace new, changes that need to come so growth can occur the way it was meant.

seedling-3653

Break through

As a side note: for my #OneGoodCup, daily I’ve made time for #OneGoodPet, a few moments of uninterrupted time with each of my cats, just petting, enjoying the purrs and the quiet space.  My cats love it, and so do I.  I don’t bring a notebook for the time (my hands are occupied), but my mind does wander and resettle itself into new ideas and patterns.  I’ve recorded some of these after the fact, some I’ve lost…  it’s okay though.  Tomorrow will come again.

jayce_and_the_wheeled_warriors_by_noender-d5zi9mh

credit NOENDER via Deviant Art

Kid TV is for adults

I wasn’t planning on this topic for a blog post this morning.  Actually, I was going to continue along the theme I’d started for my ROW80 Check-in and try writing a piece of flash fiction about a cat and his/her human.  After all, cats do make up a good portion of the internet… and my personal life.

But, I tried something different today…  mostly because I wasn’t finding the words.  I needed help, and I didn’t want to spend too long finding it.  So I hopped over to the One Minute Writer site for a kick in the writer butt.

But the prompt today had nothing to do with cats….

It’s okay though, because Approval Cat said if I could come up with an idea about Kids TV during a one minute writing session, then I should write a post about that instead of cats.  Approval Cat is so very understanding…  especially after some catnip and sardines.

So I’m going to write about inspiration, and how some of the silliest things can trigger one’s imagination and drive her to create stories and art.   I’m going to write about an 80’s cartoon.

Back in high school, I wasn’t the best student.  Bored often, distracted always…  I gave my teachers (and parents) no end of despair when homework was involved.  I liked to draw, but had stopped doing that for a few years because my father had thrown all my work away in a (failed) attempt to get me to focus on schoolwork and not obsess over horses and fantasy worlds.

I firmly believed I couldn’t write.  My grades in English were abysmal, and my best friend seemed to know everything about the subject, could write perfect sentences, spell perfectly, etc., so that felt like her thing, not mine.   And because I had been above-middling in arithmetic all through school without any effort, I listened when people said I should do that instead.

…fade out to middle school and earlier…

Thing was, I’d always created stories.  In the early days, I had created nations with my horse models and Barbies, scribbled little notes and plot lines of an Arabian princess (quite literally an Arabian) named Anocka-Jenay and a helpful rapscallion named Coca-nora helped the queen of the humans find a way to make peace with the equine people against the dangers of…  well, all sorts of kid fears, but usually the “bad” humans.

When my horses were taken away, for a time I still tried to make those stories, but my confidence had never been that high, and I didn’t have the same connection to a lot of other ‘kid things”.  Most of my childhood entertainment had been dismissed by my parents as too juvenile; most of my age peers didn’t talk about Jacques Cousteau, Walter Kronkite, and Quincy M.E. with the same passion I did (if at all).

… fade back in to high school…

There was Star Trek…  I liked it, a lot.  Like a lot of girls (born a decade before me), I thought Walter Koenig was incredibly cute as Chekov, and I did have a short phase of idolizing Spock, though mostly it was a fondness for Leonard Nimoy himself, since In Search Of was also one of my favorite shows, and the “Spock makeup job” made my skin itch.

But for me, Star Trek wasn’t unique.  My parents were avid sci-fi and fantasy readers and watchers, and every weekend there was something genre on the television, either the original Battlestar Galactica, Lost In Space, Buck Rogers, and so many others.  I used to fall asleep listening to Rod Serling’s silken voice drifting up through the floor because it was on so late in syndication.

So, when Shan Jeniah encouraged me (or I encouraged her…  or it was mutual encouragement, I forget now) to start creating a fictional world based on Star Trek because she’d fallen in love with it…  I definitely didn’t refuse.  I did love the show, and I definitely needed an outlet for some of that creative (and often very silly) energy I’d been building up.

But while I enjoyed the show and the writing, I didn’t love it.  And I hadn’t really found something that connected quite right.

Then, one morning while getting ready for school (I often watched cartoons in the morning while eating breakfast), I passed an odd show…  a bit Star Wars-like, a bit corny (okay, a bit more than a bit), with better than average art and cool music.  And, without even knowing why…  I was hooked.  I saw so much potential in these characters for more.  Questions like: why did Gillian have a domed garden before the Monster Minds came; what sort of magic was he using in such a technologically advanced world, flying fish(!), space ships that looked like ancient sailing vessels…  what kind of name for a powerfully intelligent plant creature was “Saw Boss” anyway?!

And..  it didn’t hurt that one of the first real episodes of the show was this one: Final Ride at Journey’s End.  It wowed me.  In the 80’s, it seemed pretty much impossible to find a cartoon that pushed boundaries the way this episode did, leaving viewers wondering if one of the heroes (or somewhat anti-hero) of the story might have died in a suicidal assault on the enemy.

Okay, so it wasn’t that unusual.  But at the time, even my cartoon experience had been severely limited, and though I loved what I’d seen of Robotech, I hadn’t yet seen a whole episode of it, and so didn’t know how dramatic a cartoon could be.  I liked knowing there wasn’t an answer…  answers were offered everywhere in kid’s shows, reassurances like the constant parachutes in G.I. Joe (not that I ever watched that show) or the friendly (read: annoying) commentary of 7-Zark-7 in G-Force that filled in the blank spaces with comforting words about how a town was going to be rebuilt soon or so-and-so was recovering in the hospital and doing well.

As if children needed constant protection against the truths of the world without a huge sugar-coating…

I liked the ambiguity that Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors left me with.  I could work with that ambiguity, and I did.  I created worlds upon worlds based on that ambiguity.

While most of my fiction has moved far away from its roots in Star Trek and JatWW fanfiction (most, not all…  the Was Long Variation and The Dots get regular doses of word love), this show in particular sparked a passion in me that has lasted to this day.  And I don’t see it fading soon.

So, thank you, One Minute Writer, for giving me a chance to speak about an inspiration.  And…  thank you too, Approval Cat, for letting me write about something non-feline.  And thank you most of all, DIC Audiovisuel, for producing this great show.

approvalcat2

Little Things

Posted on: May 8, 2015

Crumbling Beauty

Just a tree by the ditch

Or rather biggish things that are somehow so small we tend to ignore them….

I wasn’t going to post anything for a while, but I kept thinking about pictures and how a photo can make something so ordinary seem surreal and amazing. It’s a matter of focus and highlighting the right details.

Just like fiction… we writers take ordinary people and put them in situations that show how extraordinary they actually are. And why? Because we’re all extraordinary in our own way, but we tend to forget it when the world moves by so fast that everything feels out of focus.

A picture, a story… these are moments when the world stops and we can see the details that make a place, a person… special.

Like the picture above….  It’s no place unusual.  Down here at the edge of Green County, there are crumbling stone walls pretty much everywhere you look.  This  spot I’ve driven past at least three times a week for the last fifteen years, and except for noticing the daffodils in the Spring, I never really stopped to look at it.  But Wednesday night after my karate class, I had some time on my hand as The Boodle has advanced enough to be in the class after mine…  so I walked along the road to get a picture of the small pond there.  A little slowly because gravelly, hilly roads and Dr. Scholls sandals don’t always mix.

In doing so…  I saw this.  I think it was the best picture I took that evening.

So…  what haven’t you slowed down to look consider the beauty of lately?

Things change and yet don’t change around here with surprising consistency.  I wrote my last post here over a year ago; I cannot promise that the upcoming gap will be any less extreme.  I’m still trying to figure out what this space is for….  or if, it is what I think it should be, what my usual blog-haunt Many Worlds From Many Minds is or will be.

When I think about it and am honest with myself, I have a bit of an aversion to being “myself” so directly…  online or off.  A lot of people have nicknames, use pen names, or aliases online.  I do, and yet I don’t.  I thought of trying to establish a serious online persona so that my private life could be truly private.  But in the end, it seemed unnatural to be reaching out to the world electronically by saying “hey, look at me, read what I wrote” while hiding behind the screen and a stock image.

Unnatural for me…  I am not judging the choices others have made in regards to their online lives.  It’s a pretty crazy world out here, and we all deal the way we need to deal.


 

So…  What brought me over here?  I guess the same could be said for me posting over at Many Worlds…  I only started that up recently as well.  Then again, I started that up because that’s where I post all my ROW80 check-ins; I had a “reason” for blogging again there.  So, why am I here…

Actually, I just came to share an article I read on The Rumpus.net…  an article I just can’t get out of my head.  I was there, in this author’s place during the college years.  I suspect more young women are than they would like to admit.

After a while...  we all watch the world from this vantage point

After a while… we all watch the world from this vantage point

Was I in that place?  Oh, not the same place…  of my “bad choices” one I ran from during the ‘afterglow’; with another, the college paraded me during proceedings as a tool to get him banned when I didn’t could barely understand what had actually happened from what I’d been told had happened; another wasn’t too shy to make sure I knew how much I ‘owed’ him for the fact his roommate was my boyfriend and he had to deal with me ‘teasing and frustrating’ him by our cuddling, and if my boyfriend wasn’t going to take what was being offered (never mind that it hadn’t been offered), then he would…  and if I didn’t he’d make sure the RA knew I’d been drinking in his room.

Oh…  and I only did a bit of the bulimia and anorexia thing.  My way of coping turned away from the “I need to be prettier to be accepted, and I’ll be prettier if I can lose weight‘ to the “fuck you all, I’m going to be so damned fat and ugly I won’t have to deal with any of you“.

Only…  it didn’t work that way.  It never does.

Things change.  We change, heal, grow…  new experiences, new faces,…  I keep rediscovering myself, even those “stitches” as Roe McDermott notes in her piece sometimes seem to be all I’m made of.   Now, instead of trying to define myself by someone else’s interest in me, I try to just be me.

Whoever that is….

 


First Friday Photo

Something to inspire

obligatory “What I Allow”

Short Stuff

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