Salvation

 Hi all!

Life keeps happening. I am a full-time caregiver for my father. I have a full time job as a production editor. Right now, writing is in the margins. My last thought before I go to sleep every night is about my novel. That is the writing time I often have. The days are long and require me to be calm and peaceful at all times. I think a lot about a theme that is woven through my novels that I was wholly unaware was there.  Salvation.  

I love to give people the ending they deserved, the world that should have emerged, and the life that would have made them happiest. I am close to this as a person with regrets, losses, and tragedies. I write about the life my characters should of had as salve for my soul. I imagine a world that leads to the best, or beyond the best. The catharsis of salvation provides great relief from the unsaid, repressed, and hidden. I am weary of stories of brutal satire of  a world gone mad. 

Happily ever after, it's a dream. So row your boat, gently down the stream.  What I see now, life is but a dream, but a dream is sometimes the truth of life. A dream is the spark of hope that opens the doors to possibilities. What we imagine is often more real than what we have lived.

Spread your wings. Be kind to yourself and let art stew in the caldron of your soul. Even if it never lights in the mind of another, my deep belief is that everything is connected and even your lost art is woven into the fabric of space time, interconnected with the vast universe. 

Contribute your verse.  

 

 

 Here is a quote for your pocket. 

 "Row row row your boat.
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.
Life is but a dream."  Author unknown

 

 A colleague recently shared the toughness required to be published. Here's the story. If they say no to your art, try again. If they say No, try again. Try, and try and try. If you knock on the door, and it is shut in your face. Knock, again. Try the window. Try the chimney. If nothing is working, get an axe. Huff and puff. Do not give up.

I am sure if you quit trying, doors will not open to you. You must respect your work. Focus on emotional connection. This is what every creator is doing. Fuel your work with noble purpose and good. Avoid heavy handedness. Do you think the Universe owes you? Give up that stupidity. This is a big place, and the your life and times are less than a grain of sand and a tick of the clock (O, the insignificance). You are a tiny thing in a vast universe.  

But, of course, you are here "to contribute a verse.' You are here to not "go gently into the night." Above all, "life is no crystal stair."  Pour your words out like you have all the water in the world. Share your cup like it will never run dry, and send your positive vibes to all. The only thing that can trap your indomitable spirit is bowing down to the voices that say are not enough.  

You have persistence. You have hope. You have "eternity in your heart". Jog on.

A quote for your pocket:

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are."

- E.E. Cummings. 

The Time You Have Been Given

Life seems like a gift. It seems rare. It also seems very hard to do anything that matters.  I had the chance to see a bunch of Michelangelo's masterpieces this year, and I did think my bestie was making all of us seem lame.  I saw Rembrandt's art and Van Gogh's.  Again, more besties that make us all look like we are not trying. Does it shock you that inside me, there is a longing to slap something down that will echo through the ages? 

I call myself, "The voice crying out from suburbia."

Yep, not precisely the cutting-edge vibe dreamers long for. I am choosing to party with this gift of gab that the Universe has bestowed on me anyway. I want to matter, but I have no power to make that happen.  Here's the deal: no one wakes up and thinks, I know, I will be insignificant! I will pour out my life, hungering for the audience, and fall flat on my face. I note that moms don't exactly get the fast track when it comes to celebrated works. Maybe it's all the diapers, two am feedings, and little league practices that are getting in the way.

Here is a quote to treasure: 

Faith of the Heart

Hi all:  

It's been a hot minute since I posted here.  I am still writing.  It's been about a week since I turned in the last work for Poodle Doodle Press. I worked on some little books with them. Fun experience. I am speaking at the All Y'all Texas Regional Conference  on May 4 and 5. I am going to share Tips and Tricks from a 30-year children's content creator journey, and I will lead a 3-hour intensive about Picture Books: From Dream to Reality (This is going to be work, y'all!). Then I will breathe for three weeks and TEENSPublish begins. This is a publishing program for teens(duh), and this is year 10 of the best thing in my writer's life. I cannot express how much joy these young writers have brought to me. 

The world continues to be different from what I imagine it to be, and I have no idea how to fix the problems. I try to be curious and listen, which seems to help.  

When it comes to writing, I have come to think of myself as having a Townes Van Zandt vibe in children's books (off-the-beaten-path, mucked-up mental health issues, overlooked genius) or like a blackbird singing in the dead of night. Who knows? I love to read and create. The moment when I know I shared what I meant to--it's the best. Add to that my love to mentor others. People are part of me. I love to see folks learn and find success--that inward knowing that they have found a little more of their voice. Joy! Selah. 

I ache in my bones to connect with readers. It's like having a limp you can't fix. It's part of you. I'm not sure that my journey has amounted to a hill of beans, but I'm not sure the whole of the human race has amounted to a hill of beans either.  You get the perspective that you are on a tiny blue dot in a massive universe, and it lowers the high places and raises up the low pretty quick. I limp forward and ache in my bones. Maybe something I say will light up someone's heart, open their eyes, and give them perspective. Faith of the heart keeps me steady.

I've been thinking about poetry. It runs through us all. Here is a little blessing for you. 

May words fall gently from your dreams like spring rain. May words rush out of your heart like rain from a thunderstorm. May words rage from your soul like a tornado reshaping the world.  May you not stop until the stars refuse to shine. May your words echo for a thousand generations. 

Doodle for your heart. A little wren. 

Tune for your soul!

Faith of the Heart by Rod Stewart 

Summer Retreat

For several years, I've headed to the Santa Maria de la Vid Abby in Albuquerque, New Mexico, to spend some time allowing my writing self to have the front seat.  This is a wonderful place that feeds my soul.  I find my inner hermit. I'm surrounded by like-minded writers and maybe an illustrator or two. The starkness of the landscape, the beautiful Sandias, and time away from a crowded life.  

Build space into your life to breathe. Take time to just be you and not all the many labels that are attached to you. I let go of all that I want and focus on who I am.

 Me.

I celebrate that I contradict myself. I celebrate that I am multitudes. Whether you are in a lull in life or in the midst of storms, I have found embracing the current moment to be so helpful on the journey to wherever. Get on the deck of the boat, grab the sails, and watch the water. The universe has a way of speaking to you. It speaks of feelings and futures. I hope you find a way to let go of the baggage, sweep out the cobwebs, and forgive all the wrongs that you've seen or experienced. Let the good light of hope soak into your bones.  

Open up to love. It never fails. 

A quote for your pocket. 

Corinthians 13:12 For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

A picture for your heart. 

Thanksgiving

 I am thankful for my creative life and all the gifts it brings. Shining stars surround me. I get to see new writers struggle and then find their way. It's a joy to see their phenomenal growth. It is an honor to plant seeds of creativity and tenacity everywhere I go. 

My life is far from perfect (oh, the perniciousness of perfection!), but it is the life I have lived.  Like most lives, scattered bits of debris from various life storms have left me a little broken, a little melancholy, and a little tired. I embrace reality and do the work of hope and turning over new leaves. 

We can't control the rain. Some gardens are green from the rain. They have rich soil. Some gardens eke by with poor soil and droughts. There is beauty in both landscapes. I am simply grateful for the chance to grow my creative ideas. Yes, my patch is a bit shabby and overgrown with weeds, but I love it. I hope that you find joy in your own journey. 

Live by these words from a fine poet,

Finite to fail, but infinite to venture. Emily Dickinson. 

Covid changed my life

Covid changed my life. It pushed me out of my comfort zone. It made me get real. I didn't make enough money for lattes for two years. My husband lost 1/3 of his income. We scraped along on.  Credit cards became a thing again. We were broke. Again. Drastic measures were called for. 

I have been a freelance writer for over twenty years.  I have written about 50 books for kids. I love writing books for kids. I love it down to my bones, and I'm good at it.  Here's the deal for children's authors. It's sucky--no health insurance, sick days, no retirement, or reliable month-to-month income, and when there is income, it is a pittance.  After 20 odd years, it is somewhat clear that I can't make enough money as a writer to face a pandemic followed by inflation. I got a job. I work for the International Ocean Discovery Program as a production editor now. I know a lot about tables. It's a whole art form. I think about accessibility (a lot).

During my Covid years, I wrote the best book ever. I'm proud of it, but guess what? It's been out thirty times, and no one has ever wanted to look at it. It didn't hit readers like WOW!  It hit me like that, though. So this is the time in my life when I say I am proud of myself. I am proud of my hard work. I am proud of my willingness to pivot, try new things, reinvent myself, and launch into the great unknown. I'm still squeezing in a bit of writing here and there. Who knows what will fly out of this imagination?

I hope that you celebrate your amazingness this week and do what you love. And if you can't right now, I hope you stop kicking yourself. You are paying the bills—or you are trying. This makes you the hero of your own story.   

A quote for your pocket: 

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Small Things with Great Love

Hi, readers! I’m jumping in here today just to update you with what’s going on in my writing life.  The journey to here has been epic and at the same time.

Currently you can find an excellent conversation with me and Janet Lee Carey about creative courage  To be honest, we go on to just talk about all courage. If you want candid, open thoughts, this is the place for you: Dreamwalks: Creative Courage. 

I have started sending my epic FOR THE LOVE GOD to agents  Wish my bread to come back on every wave.  

My alter ego, Cece Barlow, has been up to all kinds of mischief. I want to check out my newest work, please follow the link: The Four Winds: Regalia of Power   . This YA fantasy serial will appeal to readers who love speculative fiction/historical mashups! Oh, and dragons, magic, ether, the Salt City, caravans, the Great Library of Constantinople, powerful magicians of Egypt...definitely not traditional Western fantasy.  

Last, I will leave a quote for your pocket.  

Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.

Mother Teresa

How to Create Art in a Mad World

The world feels like it's being shattered like glass on concrete. Covid rages but selfishness abounds, so many refusing to stop its spread. Homegrown terrorists calling themselves patriots have stormed the White House. The current president represents the worst of us, duping half and thumbing his nose at the other half. Families are splintered in all kinds of directions. Blame games are played at every level of society and the idea of "everybody getting together and trying to love one another, right now," a popular anthem performed the year I was born by a folk band called the Kingston Trio, seems impossibly naive. How do you stabilize yourself in such a world to create art? 

The thing is that the naive anthem mention above has carved into my creative psyche through the years. The only way to move forward is to cast aside fear. Personally, I've never lived in a more fearful time. All you have to do is whisper a vague possibility of an unclear threat to send people skittering in every direction. The grocery store was stripped of items again and no wondering is necessary, many whisper that next week will lead to blood running on the streets of  "the greatest country on God's green Earth." Picking up your pen and writing your words this week will be hard. Playing your music, hard. Creating your art, hard. But choosing your inherent ability to create is siding with the angels of this world. Turn off the discordant voices and be a voice of peace. Make a stand against fear. 

As fear sounds off every mountain, stirring up hate, you have the opportunity to shake off the madness. Use your art to stamp on fear. Dance until you can't breathe anymore. Slip through the portal into your other world and take down those baddies however you see fit. Isekai your way to something better. Art is the chance to be reborn. Let yourself feel the creative forces of the universe and watch the paltry fear fade into a distant haze. Stare into the light of good. Sow goodness and mercy morning, noon, and night. Don't sink into apathy. Heavens above, even though it feels like your veins are filled with sludge, don't let the monsters of this age steal the treasure of your art.  

In this time of "look at me, hear my voice," listen for the quiet voices that don't bring the hurricane, that don't bring fire, and that don't bring earthquakes. Remember the madwoman who saw fame as a fickle food that men ate and then died. Think of the Gallilee carpenter who spoke of the blessed souls: the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, the merciful, the pure, the peacemakers, the persecuted. A motley crew, basically a band of flotsam and jetsom. Join the blessed with your art. Create the stuff you will be insulted for. Create the stuff that you will be persecuted for. Create the good, good stuff that you will be called evil for. 

The image of the creator is within us all. Remember that as you look at each face. Do the work of sanity in the madness around us. Keep talking. Feel what you need feel, but then work. Still struggling? Find a solid tree to sit under. Trees never get to take a step, but in their own way are arguing with their neighbors and reaching for the stars. Lean against that rough bark and think about the rough bark protecting you. Think about the roots holding this tree to the ground. Think about the gold leaves of spring that furl into the green leaves of summer, and fade back to gold leaves of fall to stark branches of winter. You are the art tree. If a windstorm, snowfall, or mudslide has taken you out, you will lay on your side and every bit you will be used to enrich the next forest to spring out of the seeds you scattered before you fell. Cling to what lasts in the mad, mad world and work. 

Now take on kindness. What kindness can you swirl into the patterns you create? Let go of your anger and animosity. Stop belittling humans with your fear-driven hate, regardless of the hate they are flinging at you. Open the doors you have shut. You have something to add to the creative canon. Nothing kills creativity like grudges and ill-will. Do yourself a favor and go to the ocean and cast a stone into the sea. Now see imagine an ocean without end, one of love. No matter how hot you are about whatever has happened to you. The sea will put out that fire. It will polish the dull surfaces of you. That love will make what is broken right. That ocean is deeper than infinity. 

It's time to let go. You know the debts you have accrued in this life. Time to take your ledgers and burn them in the woodstove. Know the Logos that brought us into the light for this moment and this time has covered all the debts. The universe is counting on you. Your art springs out of the ether of imagination. Your art is bigger than madness. Set it free. Good news, art comes with wings. Wheel high above the mortal earth and fly. I hope these words help you steady yourself. Take what you need to stabilize your craft. 

Here is a quote for your pocket.

“Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom.” Bertrand Russell

Gearing Up for a New Year - Creativity

Art for your heart from my picture book Magic Carpet Night. 

It's January and folks are outlaying mucho moola on new planners, apps, and coaching classes to get the mojo juice flowing for 2021. We all know that most will fail. How do you keep yourself out of that group? Here's some advice: while everyone else is making new year's resolutions that will ultimately bomb, you can gear up in ways that will ensure success. The road map outlined here will help you energize your creativity and ensure that your work is popping, crackling, and snapping 

Creativity doesn't just happen. Don't listen to anyone who says you are a creative person; a chosen one imbued with this mysterious force. Creativity comes through hard work, experimentation, and vulnerability. These pillars are needed to keep the cauldron from being stagnant. Do you want to kick your production to a higher level? Do you want to do more than you have ever done before? Do you want to be standout original?  I'm going to break down these three pillars to help you on your journey. 

The first pillar is hard work. Sit butt in chair and hustle. You must layer effort with endurance. Ask yourself what is something you have worked hard for. Think about what led to your success and repurpose anything useful. For me, I make my bed every day. It gives me a win every morning and it also shows I can endure for freaking forever as long as I "KISS" it. Yes, you must make sure you keep it simple, Stupid. Endurance depends on small steps with reps. If you sit around saying you going to write that novel, paint that picture, sculpt that sculpture, knit that blanket, but watch TV and drink mimosas instead, you are going to create a big pile of nothing. 

So let's get downright practical. Write down a list of five short term projects that you want to take to completion and that you have the skills and knowledge to do. Be sure these projects are very specific. Write a rough draft, not write a book. Books come in stages: prewriting, rough draft, revision1, revsion2, revision3, final draft. I'm trusting you to list out ten reasonable short term projects. Now, until these five short term projects are complete, don't start anything else. Put any new ideas on the next projects list. (If you don't have a system to shut down distractions, you are going to be distracted.) Now, how to approach each project. Estimate the time it will take you to do it. You may need to do some research to make a good estimate. Block out that time in your schedule. Set a deadline. Now get a partner on board to check in with. Turn off the feeds!!! Finally, work, work, work.  

The next creativity pillar is experimentation. Get out of your comfort zone. I mean it. Think of something absolutely bonkers from your perspective to try. Learn a new language, dip a toe into ballroom dancing, try learning a martial art...whatever seems out of your reach but that you would like to give it a go. Experimentation welcomes failure. Study new methods and try them out. Open up to some new ideas. Put yourself in somebody else's shoes. Let your curiosity run wild. Learn things for the joy of learning them. If you don't block out time for experimentation, you are not going to have ah-ha moments this year, not one. 

Here's some nitty-gritty experimentation implementation. Pull out your calendar and fuel it up. Find the event in the local newspaper, message board, coffee shop...get yourself to any event that interests you and looks like it takes skill to make it happen. Challenge yourself. Watch a show that folks are flocking to that is not your thing,  and then think about why people are interested in it. Cook stuff in the kitchen. Grow stuff in the yard. Paint stuff on the walls. Go for walks and observe and think. Try the road less taken, at least by you. Bottom line. get out there and experiment, at least a few hours of your week need to be dedicated to experimentation. If you don't shake things up, I promise you will be stuck in a rut. 

The last creativity pillar is vulnerability. You must come out of your safety zone into exposed places.  Yes, you must deal. Go to therapy. Attend a self-help group. Join a community of faith. Begin a gratitude journal. Anything that you know will emotionally crack you open is a good idea. Most of us have things festering, and if you are not dealing with them, that stuff will choke your voice. You might need to off-load something in a relatively safe place, i.e. totally anonymous. There are tons of websites out there where you can share secrets. Have that conversation you keep putting off. Face your pain. Be brave, and you will soar. 

Being vulnerable is about knowing your weaknesses. Perhaps it is time to admit a few things about yourself. Are you a lazy one? A mean one? A disorganized one? Whatever. We all have our hangups. You want to change, but the last 4000 things you tried have failed. Feel your feelings, but then dust yourself off and try again. Vulnerability is naming your kryptonite and then keeping away from that stuff. If you are wondering about where to start, choose someone who knows you and loves you, and then ask them what you need to work on.  After you are finished being pissed about what they said, really think about it. One of the most vulnerable things you can do is listen. 

I hope I've stirred you up. Get into gear. This encouragement and right now is a great place to start. I love to jump into the deep end of the pool. The feeling of sinking deep into the water and then clawing my way back to the surface for the big breath. Some like to go into the pool one step at a time, slowly, until they get used to it. Gearing up your year is your journey. Do it your way. Be creative.

Here is a quote for your pocket. 

Creativity is contagious, pass it on. ~Albert Einstein

Dsylexia. Dylesxia. Dylexia. Dyslexia.

I don't know by looking which word in the title is spelled right. Welcome to my life. 

I was the reader in church on Sunday, and suddenly the words turned into a bunch of deconstructed letters. I didn't know my place, and I am suddenly back in my elementary school self. My teacher is asking what the next word is. I don't know. My class is laughing at me. I fold my shoulders in. Tears roll down my face. 

A page of text can become a puzzle to me in a second. The words will reappear if I wait. Sometimes it takes up to a minute for me to see the separate words again, instead of a page of jumbled letters. But this was something that I didn't know how to communicate with my teacher. She never did try to figure out what was wrong with me. She thought I was a subpar student who refused to try. I was sent to remedial reading to fix the unfixable. It's a battle not to think of myself as a failure even to this day. 

After church people came up to me. "We all make mistakes." I'm thinking, I didn't make a mistake. "Were you having a mental breakdown?" You seemed to be laughing and crying at the same time. I said that's what I meant. Long ago, I learned that this is me. I don't apologize for it, even if I am a train wreck. 

I love the written word. Stories are my jam. My first stories were picture books because there had fewer words on the page. I remember being laughed at in the fifth-grade for trying to check out a stack of picture books at the school library. The librarian suggested I put them back for the younger kids. I put some back, but I'm still pissed about it. 

I read every day, and I'm a writer. Dang, my love for stories is a problem. I just send out the emails and manuscripts and know, yeah, there may be a word or two or three or five or more missing. I blow up the text on novels to picture book size and read away. (Thank God for technology).  I'm going to be told that I don't care sometimes, and I don't try sometimes, and that I need to clean up my manuscripts all the time. I won't apologize. 

My dyslexia rips into everything I do. There is no way to avoid it, but, as a human being, I want to do something. So I tell my stories. Some days I can't write. The words are a mess and I can't sort them. I call these stagnant water days.  Other days I have a few problems. The words flow like mountain streams, clear and fast. So my problem is variable. Tricky. 

I am slower than everyone, but I do understand things. I love to learn, but I hate school. Those many Fs for things that I could not help really sucked and have left me with more than a little PTSD. We move forward shattered if we must. Only a few people have really been on the inside of my struggle enough to know what I'm facing daily. I am so grateful when the chose to love me and not fuss when I am continually struggling. 

I consider dyslexia a dent-and-scratch disability. I am serviceable. I can get a job done. Don't expect type-A fervor from me. I'm type keep-my-head-above-water.  

I hope that reading this makes you understand yourself better or see that quirky person in your life in a new light. Perhaps you can see the beauty of how they are dealing with the winds of this world.    

Seize the day!

I close with a doodle for your soul.  My interpretation of petroglyphs from Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico. 

Here is a quote for your pocket. 

I cling to my imperfection as the very essence of my being. Anatole France

The Power of Thankfulness

Hi, folks. Welcome to 2020 on Seize the day. This year has been a gift to my inner introvert.  That extroverted side of me has taken the passenger seat, and the book worm, star gazing gal is doing the driving. I've thought about Issac Newton a lot this year. He was at home during an epidemic when he connected the ideas of an apple falling and the moon being held by the earth, leading to the law of universal gravitation. Whoa!

I feel that Newton has set the success-during-a-pandemic bar high, but I have been giving my creative self the reins in what I am calling my "Magnum Opus" year. I'm grateful for a year to slow down and take time to breathe and write the hardest book I've ever attempted. If you have struggled this year, I hope my journey helps you reframe that rickety house you've built around yourself. 

Thankfulness is a weird sort of thing. So many want to capture it, believing if they pile enough stones on the pile that that will show how thankful they have been. Nothing wrong with listing out what you are thankful for, nothing at all. I particularly like lists, but for me, thankfulness is like an updraft, unseen and moving me along at all times. Along with updraft is this other wind, unthankfulness, the downdraft, that can hold me down like a butterfly pinned to a board.  If I want to soar, I gotta jump into the updraft. 

Imagine a pillar of air shooting up out of the Earth with enough force to send you above the clouds. It's not going to be an easy jump. Add to the thought experiment that you stand in a downdraft that will hardly let you stand. The downdraft pins you to the Earth. You can't move much, but you don't have to worry about falling. You're already on rock bottom. It's going to be a battle to get out the downdraft. You will claw and crawl your way to the edge and then, ploop, you are tossed into the updraft. 

Claw and crawl your way out of unthankfulness. Reframe your thoughts. Start with breathing. If you are reading this, you are breathing. Your lungs suck in oxygen all day long without a hint of help from your active brain. Breathe and be grateful. Get into this moment. Meditate. Let go of worrying. Be grateful for the body that holds your brain. Be grateful for the brain that allows you to think thoughts. Think about any mindless repetitive chores you do most days: sleep, brush your teeth, make your bed, sweep your floor. Think about the good people in your life, what gifts they have given you. Note, you are probably going to cry, have revelations about life, and forgive a whole boatload of stuff and write a magnum opus. This is a side effect of thankfulness, as far as I can tell. 

In a bit, you will notice that the gloomy cloud is lifting. You will soar. So here is the drill claw and crawl. Whatever it takes. Then soar.  If you find yourself back in ungratefulness, do the drill. 

I hope this helps you. Check back for the next bit of carpe diem.   

Here is a quote for your pocket.

I've never had a policy, I've just tried to do my best every day. Abraham Lincoln. 

A doodle for your joy. 

Sunday Thoughts: An Unexpected Life

 I've heard crickets from the Pitch Wars contest I entered.  My book about an American Christian cult doesn't seem to have connected. That's life. I still love my book. I love it micro and macro. The joy of a creative life is wonderful. I hope you have spent some of this week pouring out creative energy. 

I didn't expect to be fifty-six years old and be wondering what I was supposed to do with my life.  Have you sought to achieve something but realized you're on the Oregon trail and don't have enough provisions?  I didn't expect to be estranged from certain family members. I didn't expect that making my bed was going to be one of my great achievements. Are you living an unexpected life? 

I do feel that most of my days have been spent putting out fires and then resting till the next fire blows up. Life in Oregon and the rest of the west where the wildfires were raging, I am sure that folks wanted to do so much with their lives this summer but ended up dealing with fires. Or here with the hurricanes, there were plans but instead the aftermath was what happened. There is Covid worldwide, and we are all limping along. Are you living an unexpected life?

I didn't know that I was born with a genetic defect that was going to weigh heavier and heavier as I grew older. I didn't know that I would pass this stuff to my children. But here I am, braver than I ever expected to be. Brave wasn't the word that I thought would dominate my life. But here I am. Are you living an unexpected life? 

Here is the deal. Live. Do your small acts of kindness with great joy. Be merciful. Find the road to forgiveness. Trust that every person is made in the image of God. Celebrate the goodness in people. Forgive everything else. Make a difference. Create your art. Live your life, whatever it is.

A quote for your pocket. 

Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me. Carl Sandburg

A doodle.

Magic Carpets and other reasons I love to dream

 I love my creative life and the continuing stream of stories and images that spring out of my imagination. This week my newest creative endeavor has released: Magic Carpet Night.  This story started about 30 years ago when my first child was born. I've been shaping and reshaping it for a long time.  I always hated that bedtime is portrayed as a bad thing in books, like somehow if you crawl under the covers and close your eyes you will miss something important or get eaten by a pretend monster. 

Magic Carpet Night is a book about my vision of entering the portal of dreams. I close my eyes and leap and that lead leads to the wildest places imaginable.  I wanted a story that showed that bedtime wasn't something to avoid but something to cherish. For me, I have rarely encountered dragons when I sleep, but mostly I encounter fantastical scenes, full of mysterious questions.  There is a sense of safety in this world of dreams. Of course, magic is a given, and the best kind of magic, the kind that springs from within me. 

My place in the universe is sure when I enter the door to dreams.  Magic Carpet Night is a chance to snuggle up and enter into the place where we each spend 1/3 of our lives. Our dreams are one of the biggest gifts we will ever receive. This will book will open conversations on why bedtime is such a good thing. Dreams don't necessarily make sense. They don't always have a purpose. For me dreams, flood me with feelings of wonder. The meaning of dreams is so often beyond words. What dreams may come? Sleep, so you have the chance to dream. 

I hope you will get a sense that my little book is the tip of the iceberg of the mysteries beyond our waking hours.  Here is the link to the Kindle version for $2.99: https://amzn.to/2CP2oqL

The pandemic and other things I worry about

Worrying isn’t such a great idea, but I do it any way. This is especially problematic for me since I am professing Christian. Christians are supposed to cast their burdens upon the Lord. Currently we’re in the middle of a pandemic. That’s not  something I expected to see in my lifetime. We aren’t really in control, are we? A half million people have died—most elderly and infirm. Many more expected to die.   Tensions are running high in  people because of the stress of Covid. Our militarized police force continues to act with racist actions toward black lives.  It’s probably the worst time in history for marches on the streets because many  marches feature our most vulnerable populations, but here we are. So lurking behind all of this is the global warming trend, and I think a world that has dived into a worldwide recession.

So what do we do? How can anyone process all of this? We just have our every day life stuff going on. I’m estranged from my older daughter.  She absolutely won’t speak to me. I am not even against her reasoning, I grew up in the world systemic racism and I also have attended ultra-conservative churches. These worldviews have shaped me and she has taken a break from me to sort out her own problems. I miss her so. It’s really an overwhelming lot to deal with. So how do I deal? I turn on all the lights. Cast your burden upon the Lord and he shall sustain me. He will never suffer the righteous to be moved. As for me and my house, I will serve the Lord. This is what we do. We refuse to be frozen in place. No matter how bruised and bloody we are from this world, we look beyond it.

I turn to memories of my mema. She always said better days are going to come. She always said we are more resilient than we think. I turn to my mom who has been gone for over 15 years, but I still hear her voice.  Be a thinking person. Don’t take anything at face value. Don’t suffer fools. Treat every single person like they got a mansion in heaven waiting for them. Your past can work against you or you can reshape it and let it work for you. And finally she always said look out at the flowers of the field, they do not work, but they are adorned more beautifully than the wealthiest king. Look at the birds. They don’t know where their next meal is coming from, but  they just keep on doing their thing. And they thrive. You should do your thing, I know that God is with you and will take care of you. He’s going to take care of all of this.

I can’t imagine that you’re not worrying some right now. For some people this drives creativity. For others it just kills it like roadkill. Whatever state you’re in, embrace it.  Learn the lessons that are coming to you. If you’re pouring out, let the water flow. If you’re taking it all in, save  it up for when it’s your turn to speak.

Art.

Quote.

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.

Helen Keller

Stranger in a Strange Land

Hi, folks.

Are you a stranger in a strange land? I wonder if anyone else feels this way. Do you remember elementary school? All the kids would want to get into fights. I mean all the time. I had a hard time navigating that world. It was exhausting. Accusations would continuously fly. You had to chose sides or you were one hundred percent excluded. There were multiple factions. Each one believed it was absolutely right and never wanted to hear the other side of the story. If you did listen to the other side of the story, you were unloyal to the cause.  You chose the invisible route. Everyone called you a weirdo.

I had a number of personal problems as a child. I suffered from panic attacks, but no one really knew what panic attacks were, so most kids called me a freak. Every day I spent at school I spent some time crying, maybe thirty minutes or an hour. Sometimes the whole day.  I had asthma but it was undiagnosed. Of course, my family had no health insurance, and to go to the doctor you basically had to have an extra elbow in your arm or a fever so high that was causing you to have hallucinations.

I also had a glitch in the brain software. Letters got tangled. Random words and letters went missing when I wrote. Sometimes extra words and letters would jump in.  I couldn't tie my shoelaces. I couldn't tell left from right. Still can’t.  Writing on a line. Impossible. Writing a numbered list. (Think spelling list.) No.  I'm still not "diagnosed."  My mom believed I had dyslexia and  have this glitch, folks. Please overlook any glitching in my poor blog.

From my perspective, life is very, very hard. Everyone is fighting terrible battles. The more a person acts like everything is okay —that they know the answers and stress they are right hundred percent right—upsets me.  I try to hold true to this idea. “Be kind to everyone that you know for  everyone is fighting a great battle.”  (Ian McClaren).

I hope to see more kindness this week. I plan to rejoice every time I see kindness. If you are a stranger in a strange land, know you are not alone.

Art to brighten your week.

A quote for your pocket.

Be kind to everyone that you know for  everyone is fighting a great battle.”  (Ian McClaren).

Story Power

Stories make us feel. The reality of those feelings equals the reality of our own experience. Our emotional growth is dependent on these shared experiences. We can experience so much more in the safe pages of a book. Sure, movies and shows are great ways to feed the story hunger but these containers are limited. A book mines the internal journey. We experience this journey through the thoughts of our characters. Voice-over exposition doesn't do it for me, and I doubt it does for you.

We don't know how long humans have shared experiences through the medium of story, but the flickering light of endless campfires warms my bones, and the more recent leap to written language fuels the fires within. Story is what brings confidence to sort through the troubles of our day. Story is that collective memory of mankind that assures us that we made it through those other things, we will make it through the waves of trouble that have swamped us today.

This season brings the Jólabókaflóð (The Yule Book Flood), a time to give books and read until morning. It's my treasured reading time, and I love it.  I hope you stop this season to expand your emotional landscape.  Do you want to grow and be more? Pick up a book and allow it transport you on a journey to rise above the odds and find your way.  The experience will help you face the challenges in your "real life" journey. Tap into this superpower, story power.

Spend your time wisely. Today is all we have.

Quote for your pocket.

“Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light.” Kate Di Camillo

A doodle for you. 

Night Owl

I haven't posted in a while. Writing has been happening. I almost have draft one of For the Love of God by my alter-ego Cece. I spent a week in New Mexico recharging at the no-name writer's retreat at the Norbertine Abbey. What's not to love?  I hunkered in my little room and turned the fan on. (It is New Mexico in the summer.)  I read my manuscript from end to end and then began to add more magical chapters. My writing wasn't the only magic brewing. The beautiful scenery! The owls (burrowing owls live near the abbey)! The conversation! The ukelele! (Thanks, Lisa.) Each day was about relaxing and making space for the work. Did I mention the crunchy lemon cookies and iced tea?

There is something about a place that has a garden of peace, a library, and sacred places around every corner. It was the perfect place to reflect on a period of my life full of turmoil and sadness and God.  I scribbled notes and typed away. One night, I stayed awake like a night owl and wrote and wrote.  The kinks in my innards slowly worked out. After a few short days, I left the Abbey relaxed and less panicked that I would never finish my WIP. I left with a lesson, too. The Abbey is in the middle of a desert, but that dry dust land is full of life. A good thing to remember when every the road becomes bleak.

It is important to take care of yourself. In the midst of your busy life, chose to stop. Seek silence. Let it well around you. Stop hurrying. Retreat somewhere and reconnect. These are the days of your life. Don't miss them. I hope you hear me, readers. Don't let this moment pass by. Whatever dream you keep pushing aside, it's about to slip away. Stop. This is your chance. Don't throw it away. This opportunity to make a difference could pass you by. Cling to it. Do what you can, when you can, while you can.

I'm so glad you gave this a read.  Please share your big dream in the comments. I find writing a thing down will make it more likely happen.

Please remember to seize the day.

Here is a doodle of a petroglyph from back in the day. I hope there is a smiley face in the center of my bird spirit.

Here is a quote for your pocket from another one who sought solitude.

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” Henry David Thoreau

Writing Storm

A storm is brewing, friends, a writing storm. I am going throw out the whole enchilada next month during NANOWRIMO!   I plan to complete the first draft of FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.  This is THE book about three girls who drop out of college to join a cult. Yes, you might need a box of Kleenex to read it.

I'm revving up here in my soul. Mojo! Check. Blank book! Check. Perfectly smooth ink pen! Check. Computer! Check. We all need gear. This is the one book I was born to write. It will be hard for me because it's not funny and laughter is my coping mechanism. I do feel the fire within; let's see what I can do. (God, please help me!)

On the troubles in the world, we are in a rough patch. The Universe is full of rough patches. I will be salt here. This is going to pass. We are going to figure things out, and things will get better. It won't be free. Nothing is free.

This a quick note. I'm feeling better. Whew!

Here is a doodle.  A classic from my sister, Lee Barlow. She made a WANTED poster of me back in the day.

Here is a quote for your pocket. 

If there is something wrong, speak up!  Pete Seeger

Lemonade Life

Hi folks,

I'm am finally on the mend!  I have even gone back to water aerobics.  My bones are feeling good.

One thing that I like about myself is the ability to make lemonade from the lemons that life hands. me.  It is my number one skill.  Just thinking about whatever-sorry-thing-that-has-come-my-way as a lemon perks me up. I've had the shingles lemon, the flu lemon, and the ear infection lemon thrown at me in succession, and I just see those lemons swirling around in a beautiful glass pitcher and the sugar dissolving.

The visual helps, but this thinking helps more.  I think, "I'm not entitled to anything."  Everything is a gift.  Every breath. Every step. Every moment.  I know that I will never pass this way again. There is no other life; there is today and now. Letting go of the past and the future helps me so much. I don't despise the day that I took my first step. I will not despise the day I take my last one.

My days are worth consideration. They are never worthless. I do not scorn my moments, no matter how mundane.  A lemonade life goes far beyond optimism.  Optimism is rooted in an idea that there will be a successful outcome, but here's the rub, there isn't always a successful outcome.  What are you going to do then?  Feeling like you are out in the cold, positive thinkers? Ready to join the dark side with the pessimists?

Take a breath.  Optimism is a useful tool. We made it to the moon. Pessimism has its place too. That's why we build in backup systems. Perspective helps. The universe is a humongous place. Your success or failure is less than a drop in that bucket. Is it enough to be a bunch of matter that has come together and is aware? And here is something I'm as sure of as dark matter and something smaller than a Higgs particle: great love.  I can't weigh love.  I can't measure it. I can't prove it exists, but I know it does. Sweet love. Yay, sugar!

Mix your lemons and sugar. Live a lemonade life.

Here is a doodle:

Here is a quote for your pocket.

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, Oh if I won't have to work no more.