Saturday, January 27, 2007
It's so gorgeous around here these days.
The thing about living in the mountains that we never realized before, is that at different times of the year you see different features. Because as the sun travels along the horizon, the light comes pouring through a different canyon around sunset illuminating vistas that aren't so set apart in the summer light.
And for some reason, when there are clouds, the mountains look taller. From hour to hour some days, it looks like we are living in different parts of the world.
Some employ crows or black cats. My familiars are the mouse, the pen and the RAZR.
I liked the way the chandelier at Bob's was reflected in the mouse. The pen and the RAZR just nosed their way into the shot.
This seems to be the message my friend Tomasina is trying to get across to me.
Last night, my writing group celebrated my birthday. What an amazing evening. It pays to have friends who can so eloquently express their affection in the form of wonderfully worded cards and thoughtful gifts. Clothing, jewelry, lotions, CD, book, etc. etc. Amazing, good stuff!
We ordered in Indian food and Braveheart whipped up a terrific coconut cake with vanilla and chocolate sauces to alternate between. I love not having to choose. I'll have it all!
So back to Tomasina's message via the lunchbox and the toy. We frequently do freewriting exercises during our meetings. Apparently cowboys often show up when I tap into my unedited psyche. They might be in a country bar, or helping a newbie with her recently purchased old farmhouse, or what have you.
Where and when I grew up, you might have cows, but dairy cows, not cattle. The boys often wore flannel and hats without claiming to actually ride a horse. It was okay. It was the way of our world.
But it is quite possible that I have been left with something of a flannel fetish, truth be told.
When I figure out how big a container I need I will, indeed, grow my own cowboy.
I was really going to be better about posting every day or two. But then Blogger wouldn't let me load photos, and work became very busy, and now our Internet service at home is not working. So I'm at a Panera in Palmdale just to do some online banking and pay my cell phone bill, and I'll get caught up as soon as I can!
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Finding myself with another few hours to hang out, I sat outside and read the first chapter of a novel that an e-friend sent me. I liked it!
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Okay, I could have titled this post "This Billboard is a Big Fat Lying Lie."
Fair Oaks? I think not. I've seen the place. They not only scoured the land of the live oaks and junipers, but they cut down the very mountains that once sustained them.
This place was built on peaks that were once so steep that I thought they were safe from development. But unlike the older Los Angeles hillside neighborhoods like Echo Park and Silverlake, etc. the developers don't have to work with the landscape at all. They simply destroy geologic structures that took eons to build.
And then they build the houses so close together that there's no chance for an oak to find a home there again.
It hurts me, you know?
Some days, it's all I can do to stop myself from imagining all the beautiful mountains in my life in their possibly diminished futures. Amputated.
This is the main reason I personally seek the zen of the now. To see those mountains as they are today.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
I love this book. I just finished it. I asked for it for Christmas because I thought it was going to be a guidebook. (And I’m going to be in Paris in May!)
Well. It is in a way, but it’s also a kind of magical book about writing. The very sort of thing that appeals to me. It asks for upping my commitment to writing. That’s the best thing I took away from The Artists’ Way, the challenge to challenge myself. (Which led me to join a writing group, go to a writer’s conference, get a story published, apply for and receive a fellowship, help create writing retreats for my group, take personal time off to write, etc.)
Maisel encourages us to dream, and to dream big. He asks us to challenge ourselves and treat ourselves and go be a writer in Paris. Boy oh boy do I want this.
But he also talks about doing it in other places and in other ways. I found it perfectly inspiring and uplifting, and I doled it out to myself in short bursts.
I may just reread it right away. I may just have a writerly crush on Eric Maisel, whose The Art of the Book Proposal is also helping me quite a lot right now.