More Adventures in Writing

Ryan has a new blog! Moments in Erasure. Check it out.

Water and Fins

Things I'm thinking about. From Louise Erdrich's Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse, paraphasing:

How is a piano made? With time, centuries and centuries of time. (Think trees, imagine solar wind.)

And what is time? Time is a fish that never stops swimming. We are living on the rib of its fin. Sometimes in swimming through the weeds one or another of us will be shaken off time's fin.

One of my friends is writing an essay about Slow Food Love (pianos!) A fellow writer is contemplating persistence (trees!). Me, one hand is splaying through the water, one hand is holding tightly to the fin.

Women and Spirituality

God heard my prayers! Another snow/cold day! Wheeee! Or maybe there was some consensus in the prayers.

I wanted to put in a plug for Sally Smits and her awesome class, Women and Spirituality. No, she doesn't read this blog, so I'm not angling for a better grade. I just every once in awhile like to endorse what I find worthwhile. Not often, just once in awhile. The books she has chosen are wonderful and the lit theory is, well, the most satisfying lit theory I've ever had to plow through. Here's a little snippet from Audre Lorde's "Uses of the Erotic."

"...we have often turned away from the exploration and consideration of the erotic as a source of power and information, confusing it with its opposite, the pornographic. But pornography is a direct denial of the power of the erotic, for it represents the suppression of true feeling. Pornography emphasizes sensation without feeling.

"The erotic is a measure between the beginnings of our sense of self and the chaos of our strongest feelings. It is an internal sense of satisfaction to which, once we have experienced it, we know we can aspire. For having experienced the fullness of this depth of feeling and recognizing its power, in honor and self-respect we can require no less of ourselves."

Great class. Next time Sally is teaching this, take it!

Next Writers' Meeting

February is looking as ugly schedule-wise as January, so if you missed The Chicory on Friday, you missed out on February. We'll catch you again in in March, which means you really do have plenty of time to write. In the meantime, there's always the blog-o-sphere.

Epiphany

Suddenly, it occurred to Jimmy that his home could use a couple more leaves.

Three Parts

After The Miller Show.

Busy, busy, busy. What can I say? There's more than I'd like on my plate at the moment. Cold weather cancellations, snow delays, often save the day. Not enough words make it to the paper these days. Soon enough, though, the situation will change. So, pics instead of words.

Jojo with Tom


Gene with Tom.

And These Words, Too

"I will soon leave you. I will return to the home whence I came. You will be to my people as myself; you will pass with them over the straight road; I will remain in my house below and will hear all that you say to me. I give you all my wisdom, my thoughts, my heart, and all. I fill your head with my mind."

Words of Corn Woman, Iyatiku, before leaving the people to return to Shipap.

Writers' Workshop News

February! Are you kidding me? Where did January go? Or, on the other hand, when is spring break finally going to get here?!!! Yep, I know, we're all busy trying to shovel out our lives and muddle through. What to do, what to do? You could think about Lent, which begins today, if you're of that persuasion and that mind. A little self-sacrifice and contemplation never killed anyone. Or tomorrow you could celebrate Chinese New Year, we're heading into the year of the rat, if that makes any difference to you, and it's Chinese year 4705.

But wait, there's something even better! Save yourself and all your energy and come out to the writers' workshop Friday at 4:00 p.m. at The Chicory Cafe. Send out all your self-sacrificing, contemplative, celebratory scribbles on pieces of paper. Or just come and drink a cup of coffee with us. It doesn't matter. Just come.

Someone New?

We spotted this fellow yesterday and I was able to snap his (her?) picture today, but I don't know who it is! Can anyone help? It's much smaller than the red-bellied woodpecker, and much more tan than the hairy or downy woodpeckers. If you know, let me know!

Update - I've been looking through pics on the net. I think it's a yellow-bellied sapsucker (I've always wanted to have a real reason to say that.)

Update 2 - And she's not a fellow, she's a gal!

Fiction

I'm turning back to fiction honing for awhile. I know a few of you are thinking along the same lines. So this is, hopefully, a little spur to encourage you to send out your fiction pieces for the next workshop. A few of you have promised, you know. Anyway, the first line of my new story I've stolen from a poem I've been working on, which seems to be going nowhere, but perhaps these images don't want to live inside a poem. At any rate, the faintest beginnings of something new:

"The sharpshooter stood beneath the black-wet branches of a wintering tree, leaning heavily on his cane."

So, come on, workshop is next Friday!! Send away.