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Posts Tagged ‘Inspiration’

Words taken from  Wordless: Writer’s Block and Grief, a beautiful essay out today by writer Lorraine Berry in Talking Writing Magazine.  As the title suggests, it is about a writer dealing with grief.  It is a moving piece that I hope you have a chance to read. It was startling to read of black birds in the first paragraph of her essay.  Birds of that dark shade have been on my mind of late though none did I see on a recent walk through the Fells. A friend faraway, who is dealing with grief, had mentioned as part of a larger conversation of seeing blackbirds outside of his house.  And though I was not close enough to hug him as he might have liked, we did spend a while talking about the wings of the bird and how they glistened iridescent in the sun.  Mostly on my walk through the Fells, I saw leaves. 😉

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It has been a hard month, a hard summer, a hard year, for so many family and friends.  I read their words and hear their voices, and all I have been able to do, in the end, is absorb and listen.   On occasion I have been able to touch, to hug, and to encourage others to take such action.  Sometimes I have offered words of advice but I am beginning to think that, for the most part, those words of advice could be a song or poem or a passage from a book.  The words from my mouth are not so important as is my literal or figurative presence.  I am lucky to have them in my lives as well.

Despite the title of this post, I do not feel at the center of it all, whatever “it” may be.  As a writer, photographer, storyteller, I feel on the periphery, observing the chaos of life from odd angles that reveal ambiguities, sadness, horror, pain but almost always, great beauty, too.  When I talk with the friends and family who are struggling I find myself wishing … and then I stop myself.  I cannot live other peoples’ lives, but I can and often do ask them, “Without ignoring all that’s going wrong, what is going right? What’s one thing making you happy?”  One lovely friend will have a tendency to say, “Well, at least my cat is not dead … yet.”  And I’ll say, “Exactly!” 😉

These are the rambling thoughts that come to mind this Sunday morning as I hold close in my heart those who may be feeling a bit alone or vulnerable or just unsure of next steps.  I certainly feel that way about some things too.  And with that said, what is one thing making me happy at this moment?  It is the morning sun falling upon this apple creating a little apple universe.  At least I see the stars.

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a mural on Somerville Avenue

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A recent festival in Union Square closed off Somerville Avenue.  For the most part, I kept my hands in my pockets as I walked along enjoying the sights.  But after a while, those leaves!

Good thing there were no cars as I meandered along with my head in the clouds and eyes on the ground.

I even took some leaves home.

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I did not think the petunias would grow indoors.  I thought they’d bloom for a short while and then fade away, but somehow they have lasted the summer and now bloom confidently into the fall.

They have outlasted the basil, thyme and mints.

They soak up the sun near the hardier herbs – the oregano, sage and rosemary.  The plant’s white flowers shade the poinsettia that is still bright green and the stellar red garden mum, a hostess gift still hanging on.

I think I have tried to grow petunias indoors before with little luck.  They are a complex flower for me, not my favorite and yet I can’t help but think of them as my mother’s plant.

She grew them in wooden boxes and converted tires that my father made and arranged in the yard for her.  We shall see if this plant thrives into the winter months.  Not to rush time, but I can’t wait to see the white blooms against the window with snow falling down.

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That is the oak tree in the background, its canopy thinning so that the morning light shines through the bedroom window in the most interesting of ways.  Why photograph a spot of light on a window frame? I don’t know but I was drawn to do it, and thankful that I could.

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After smelling an open jar of wild mint (that’s all it was, I swear) I once had a waking dream of setting up camp in the desert, my feet sinking into the hot sands, the air filled with the sounds of horses snorting and the jingle of their bells. I was perhaps influenced by a conversation with a man from Morocco. Even before that dream I had been planning to visit the Sahara, as well as deserts within the U.S.

Some of my favorite movies have depicted vast dunes of sand in shades of sparkling white to dusky cream and even dark gold. Lawrence of Arabia. The English Patient. Dune. There’s that opening scene in the 1979 movie, The Black Stallion.  And, of course, Star Wars. 😉  I love the depiction of man or beast making their way across the shifting landscape.  I have been lucky to visit many different landscapes and to photograph them.

But no deserts yet.  Not really.  This morning, as I lay in bed, photographing the hills and valleys of the cotton sheets, I wondered anew if I ever will see such sandy sights firsthand.

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How many legs does the frog have? That’s the question I wrote on the back of the Melissa’s Frog postcard that I mailed to my 3-year old nephew.  I’ve felt firsthand the quality of the posters, whether simple poster prints or archival heavyweight paper.  The mugs I’ve left out for display and watched as people remarked at the beautiful glazing.  My passion, of course, are the notecards and stamps.  They’ve sparked quite the conversation at my local post office.  Please see if there is anything of interest for you, your family, friends and colleagues.  Meanwhile, have a good weekend, folks.

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Steve Hands for Vine Leaves Literary Journal Issue 8

Steve Hands for Vine Leaves Literary Journal Issue 8

The best part about having been given carte blanche to use his words and my images of him however I choose … well, it is just so much fun to say out of the blue, “Hey, Steve, guess what?  There’s a picture of your hands appearing in a magazine next month.”  He pauses, takes a deep breath and then says, “So, when did you take this picture?”  And I get to make statements like, “Oh, don’t you remember that afternoon you were peeling shrimp and we were talking politics?”  Anyway … 😉  His hands are paired with a vignette in the online and print publication, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Issue 8.  As explained on the journal’s website, a vignette is a word that originally meant “something that may be written on a vine-leaf.” A snapshot in words.  Here’s a link to the freshly launched issue filled with great brief reads and a wonderful array of images.

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… but then the sun came out.

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