I’m in a re-blogging mood this week, apparently because you are writing posts I simply can’t resist.
I made the mistake of re-blogging this excellent post about adverbs and adjectives to my private ‘lessons’ blog (where I file teaching posts I want to save), only to discover I cannot now re-blog it here. Aspiring writers will appreciate this ‘lesson’.
I struggle with the whole ‘show; don’t tell’ concept – not fully understanding or embracing it. Of the many ‘expert’ posts I’ve read on the topic, Jamie’s is the most succinct and specific, and includes the best examples of how to use adverbs and adjectives to spice our writing.
I’ve wanted to give a shout-out to this group of professional writers – New Hampshire Writers’ Network – who blog at Live to Write – Write to Live.
While I enjoy all the writers on that site, I salivate every Saturday morning while reading Jamie’s regular Saturday post.
If you read today’s post, please use your time commenting there instead of here. Enjoy and learn !
Although we have some crossover in readers, I thought some of you budding, wanna-be artists would appreciate this excellent list of recommendations from one of my favorite artists, mentor and cheerleader.
I’m buried in year end, new year paperwork this week, and Katie’s post is a perfect way for me to feature her while slogging through my week of administrative chores.
I’ve been asked quite a bit about my favorite how-to art books, and here is my answer. I will divide them into beginner’s best and then those that are good no matter where you are, but you must know that rarely do I find a book a dud! I can almost always find some value in another artist’s experience. That said, I was given some books that I will sell or give away — I simply don’t find them interesting or valuable or engaging enough to ever crack a second time.
I put books into categories:
Those that set out to teach you
Those that inspire
The former category is more straightforward. Either someone is pretty good at reaching their target audience and showing them great ways to accomplish their goals, or introduces them to ideas they never even considered, or they aren’t good teachers! I have eons of teaching…
The year is barely twelve hours long, and already I’ve received a plethora of good reads from all of you scrolling through my Reader (it’s ‘almost’ as good as opening the mailbox and having a slew of handwritten letters from worldwide penpals fall into my hands).
Even better – I have something to write about! No writer’s block here!
Can a year start on a more promising note than with reading and writing overflowing my laptop?
It all started with Laurel at Alphabet Salad who suggested we each select an inspirational word for the year.
‘Cadence’, I thought, ‘cadence’.
Remarkably, shortly thereafter, I clicked on Sarcastic Muse (thanks, Dan, for that recommendation) and read this quote:
“Art, whatever form it takes, requires hard work, craftsmanship and creativity. As a writer, I know my grammar, cadence, the music of prose, and the art of the narrative.” F. Sionil Jose as seen at The Sarcastic Muse blogsite
My heart started beating faster, my toes began tapping, I heard music in my head and hope in my soul.
Cadence – what I want my writing to be. The word itself rings with rhythm, gravitas and, yes, even mystique. I would consider it the greatest writing accomplishment to be told I write with cadence.
Cadence – how I want to live this year. Finding the balanced flow that accompanies every moment of our awakening, our doing, our sleeping, our dreamland. If only we pay attention. I am the conductor, the symphony, the audience, the concert hall, the music itself.
Cadence derives from the root ‘cadere’ which means ‘to fall” – especially in oratory tones at the end of spoken lines. The meaning has evolved through time to “a rhythmic sequence or flow of sounds in language” and “the beat, time, measure of rhythmical motion or activity”.
Life is a dance. Everything we do from drinking a glass of water to closing our eyes at night can be done with rhythm, grace, beat, syncopation. Cadence permeates our words, gestures, sounds, thoughts, beliefs.
Curious, I clicked the Urban Dictionary link to see how its definition of cadence might differ from Wikipedia’s, and found this:
“cadence: a girl with an amazing sense of humor and personality; loves her friends and family…”
I will revisit cadence often during the year – continuously striving for measured rhythm in both my writing and my life. In the few days since I’ve adopted cadence as my inspirational word for 2015, other c’s have come creeping into my consciousness, begging to be cultivated, communicated, chronicled:
Curate
Curiosity
Creative non-fiction
Comments
Cascade
Community
Collaboration
Would that I will write of these with cadence in my stride.
Meet Quinn (mannequin), Raqi’s new BFF – at least until next-door buddy Em gets home from visiting her grandparents on the other side of the Continental Divide.
Despite my reservations, our sewing sessions went remarkably smoothly without me cracking open the gin bottle. My wingman, Hub, came through like a champ using his superior eyesight and abstract thinking to figure out the bobbin-loading diagrams, maneuver his fingers in the very tiny space to thread the machine needle, and leaving both of us looking like savvy sewers in Raqi’s eyes.
Coincidentally, I found this paragraph in a book shortly after our sewing project was completed:
“Until fairly recently, needle skills were considered an important part of a girl’s education. Girls learned a variety of stitches and embellishments that they would need later as the seamstresses of their families.”
Map Art Lab by Jill K. Berry & Linden McNeilly
No wonder our Mothers and Home Ec teachers put so much pressure on us to become qualified seamstresses. It was considered a life skill for females. And no wonder it created lingering anxiety for those of us who couldn’t measure up!
Thankfully, I had no expectations of Raqi’s mastery nor did she. She didn’t even want to open a pattern; she simply wanted to maneuver pieces of fabric around the mannequin in a semblance of a top and skirt; click the machine dial to sew a variety of fancy stitches for about 15 minutes; glue on some Velcro fasteners and call it a fashion success. One she can’t wait to show Em.
On that high note, I reflect on other unanticipated, pleasurable surprises of 2014:
Number 1 on that list – YOU. A year of you, me and us – gleaning words of wisdom, snippets of inspiration, and validation of our shared humanity through your writings, photos and illustrations. Chuckling, commiserating, comforting each other along the way.
Blogging relationships are every bit as complex, delicate and rewarding as in-person interactions. They are at once uniquely public and intensely personal.
When I assess my 2014, I find it has been one of my happiest, most contented years, and I attribute much of that positive feeling to how my daily world has changed because of blogging. My own writing gives me challenging satisfaction, but it is the warmth and sense of belonging with all of you that is the greater reward.
Other small joys of 2014…
Golfing with Dad. Only in Michigan would a round of golf with cart cost $20, and include a historic-brick-home clubhouse, a red barn cart storage, a course cultivated from cow pastures and hayfields, and baby turtles newly hatched in the sand trap marching their way to the nearby pond.
Every Praise sung by Hezekiah Walker. Of the multitude of crap that flows through my Facebook page, this one stuck. I want to sing it, dance it, pray for some progress in healing our racial divides.
My traditionally favorite Christmas movie – Love Actually. Many of my alltime Brit favorites – Hugh Grant, Bill Nighy, Colin Firth, Keira Knightley, Emma Thompson – just pure ‘love, actually’ with a whole bunch of laughs and dance wiggles thrown in.
Two other excellent movies: Chef and 100-Foot Journey
Books I read and 5-starred – a sampling; by no means a complete list:
Waging Heavy Peace by Neil Young
Loved It!! It reads like a stream-of-consciousness blog taking me back through several iterations of Neil’s musical career and my own life chapters influenced by his music. At the same time, it’s very much a ‘future vision’ outlook on environmental and music projects Neil is determined to bring to fruition.
Light in the Ruins by Chris Bohjalian
Chris is one of my top five all-time novelists (with his Idyll Banter essay book an equally compelling read). I am constantly amazed to scan his list of works and note the variety of locales, topics and characters he imagines into being.
Set in Tuscany during and a decade after WWII, this novel is a lush family saga with historic significance and intrigue, complete with Chris’s uncanny ability to fully develop his female characters. Having toured Tuscany with a guide who was steeped in WWII history of that region, I felt I was transported right back to those verdant hills and ancient villas.
Proof of Heaven by Eben Alexander, M.D.
I am loved and cherished. I have nothing to fear.
I don’t know about ‘proof’, but I liked finding a book that mirrors my long-held beliefs.
My Promised Land by Ari Shavit
Flummoxed as ever by centuries of unresolved Middle East conflicts, I chose this one based on several reviews by noted Middle East experts. I started reading this a couple days ago.
How to Climb the Eiffel Tower by Elizabeth Hein
I met Elizabeth, who blogs at http://www.elizabethhein.com during the 2014 A to Z Challenge, and her novel was published this year. Click the link to read a synopsis of the book. Based on the quality and organizational skills Elizabeth exhibits on her blog, I expected a well-written novel, and it is. Elizabeth maintains a good pace; has created realistic, complex characters, and she excels at writing dialogue. I especially enjoyed her rounding out Lara’s character by including substantial work-related scenes and relationships, which added context to the other parts of Lara’s life.
Well there you have it – 2014 in a nutshell. Throw in a slew of good bike rides, a few rounds of decent golf and repeated handfuls of chocolate – even using New Math, that adds up to a well-rounded, highly satisfying year.
I’d be remiss not to mention how much I love my constant companion and dearest friend, Hub. He makes every day special just because he’s part of it.
In the ‘What Was I Thinking’ category, I bought Raqi this child-size mannequin
and these It’s So Easy (even an idiot can do it) Simplicity patterns
and filled a sewing basket with shiny pins, assorted needles, pink pin cushion, measuring tape, colorful ribbon, spools of colorful thread, my button collection, black snaps and Velcro strips.
Raqi has been designing and hand sewing rudimentary clothes for her dolls, and she asked for fabric and a mannequin for Christmas to make herself some clothes. Her Mom told me she bought Raqi a ‘beginner’ sewing machine, so I jumped on Ebay to look for a mannequin.
As I was dressing up the mannequin in a scarf and skirt to put under the Christmas tree, lightning struck.
I CAN’T SEW.
I HATE SEWING!
Who is going to help Raqi thread the sewing machine, translate those mind-numbing pattern illustrations, measure and cut the fabric, sew in a straight line?
All my childhood trauma of my complete and utter failure as a seamstress came flooding over me. Mom made all our clothes and fully expected my sister and me to follow in her footsteps. She tried to teach me, cajole me. She even threatened to disown me from the realms of Home Ec majors who’d paved the way in my family.
I can’t make head, fingers nor foot-pedal sense of bobbins, nap, salvage, pinking shears. I can’t even fold the patterns up once they’ve been unfolded, not even with those permanent fold lines seared in that tissue-like paper.
Panicked, I emailed Parker: “Can YOU sew?”
Her response: “No, I thought you could.”
Running through my non-existent list of Plan B’s, I thought of Charisse, Raqi’s next-door-neighbor-Super-Mom who French-braids hair; makes daily meals for six from scratch; paints Halloween faces with the skill of a makeup artist.
I emailed Parker: “What about Charisse? Does she sew? If not, can she learn overnight?”
Parker’s response: “Charisse is out of town. You better bring gin.”
Merry Christmas to all my dear friends, readers, fellow bloggers and your families. May your Christmas celebration be as blessed and loving as I know mine will.
bemuzin 