Sunday, October 21, 2007
Playing Catch-Up
Golly! I've been away for days. During that time, I've been tagged by Kim at Knit Whimsies, which I will deliver on in another post, my family and I have helped a friend move, I've gone to work, I've read more stories in "Logorrhea," I've checked Jeffrey Eugenides' book "Middlesex" out of the library, I've almost finished knitting a bath mitt, and I've gotten my new issue of Wired magazine in the mail. Such a useful magazine, Wired is. There's not a single issue wherein I haven't learned something. Since their redesign, they've made it a point to publish even more letters from readers, which I appreciate. Hey, there are some experts out here! I just wish I knew who wrote the smart-ass intros that lead off reader letters.
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
Labels: family, french, friend, jeffrey eugenides, knit whimsies, knitting, logorrhea, middlesex, minnesota, mom, portland, rain, seattle, snow, weather, wired magazine
Thursday, September 20, 2007
The Voice in My Head
There are days when I feel like a head case - like I'm living solely in a mental realm without any real connection to the physical. Days when I'm having long conversations with the voice in my head. (Notice I said 'voice,' not 'voices.' There's only one in there and it's all me, baby.) I tend to slip into the mental realm when I've been on the computer too much, or when I'm tired. I was in that space yesterday, and started there today. I become aware of the sensation after a while because I start feeling off balance. There's nothing like a physical, deal-with-me-now emergency to pull me back out. Buckets of rain water to remove from a basement. What fun.
While I was thinking of the interplay between the mental and physical realms, I realized that when I was a young adult, I thought I was a very mental person, like I could live in my head and be very happy there. I was mistaken. I've never been completely mental. And I've also very much enjoyed the physical all the way along. I took gymnastics as a kid, and still enjoy dancing. As an artist, I'm drawn to creating images of the human body. Bone studies are a kick. At one time I thought I might become a naturopath and I love studying anatomy, physiology, and medicine. When it comes to writing, my stories are peppered with human physicality. (My Greenville stories have quite a number of bathroom scenes.) I'm especially interested in how the body betrays humans. There's no escaping it, this vehicle of the mental. It's how our souls play with the world.
While I was thinking of the interplay between the mental and physical realms, I realized that when I was a young adult, I thought I was a very mental person, like I could live in my head and be very happy there. I was mistaken. I've never been completely mental. And I've also very much enjoyed the physical all the way along. I took gymnastics as a kid, and still enjoy dancing. As an artist, I'm drawn to creating images of the human body. Bone studies are a kick. At one time I thought I might become a naturopath and I love studying anatomy, physiology, and medicine. When it comes to writing, my stories are peppered with human physicality. (My Greenville stories have quite a number of bathroom scenes.) I'm especially interested in how the body betrays humans. There's no escaping it, this vehicle of the mental. It's how our souls play with the world.
Labels: art, body, greenville, human being, mental, minnesota, physical, rain, weather, writing
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
More Rain - Torrential Even
Yesterday the Hubby and I were sans two kids. Only Eldest Son was home, the others having sleepovers. We decided to spend a little quality time with the boy, who will soon be off to the hinterlands on his own (unless he decides to move back home as a young adult). We took Eldest to a local state park for a walk. Normally we stay on the trails, but we noticed that the creek bed was down to dry stones for the most part and thought we'd take the challenge to see how far up-creek we could go. We were headed for a particular metal bridge in the park and we made it to within sight distance of the bridge before having to crawl up the bank to the trail. Hubby and I have never seen the creek so dry. Obviously, we're in a drought. And then it rained last night. Don't know if it fully alleviated the drought, but it was coming down in sheets. They call such rains torrential. Yep. That about says it. Time to mow the grass again.
Labels: children, creek, drought, husband, minnesota, park, rain, son, walk, weather
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Blown Away
I hate mixing post topics, but before I get down to the business at hand, I must say that it is raining here. A nice drizzly rain. After the last thunderous downpour, this is our first real all-day-gray rainy day. Amazingly, the crunchy brown grass is turning green and growing again. Doesn't take much, does it?
Okay, now that the weather is out of the way . . . .
For most of my life I've been concerned about my voice, specifically my singing voice. A couple of negative experiences while growing up have caused me to doubt the sound of my singing voice. I'm pretty sure it's crap and I won't sing in front of anyone (except babies, and periodically my kids and husband) because I'm afraid of how my voice will be received. Frankly, I don't need any more knocks where this subject is concerned. As a young adult, I wouldn't even sing alone. I sing alone now all the time (especially in the car), so I've improved on that account. Obviously God isn't offended or I would've been struck dead by now. (Don't you love how non-judgmental God is? Not like us crazy humans.) In comparison, I've had no trouble accepting my speaking voice. I used to be in speech, the competitive kind, in middle school and I placed pretty well. Also, there was no cringing going on when I spoke, so I never developed a complex about it.
Ironically, when I really started writing, I discovered that writers were very concerned about voice in their work. I was too. How do you create a distinctive writing voice such that others know your work upon reading it? My writing voice has become pretty clear over the years. With that, I've branched into attempting other sorts of effects with my writing. I've tried writing about myself in third-person, which is a kick. I've tried poetry and humor. I've tried using fiction techniques (storytelling and description) in nonfiction. I've invented new words. One thing I'm still working on is how to use words in a musical way. How to write as though the words can be sung.
Having not been encouraged to be musical while growing up, the whole music thing is foreign to me. Well, not completely foreign, but it's not second nature. (I had a family full of crazy artists, not musicians, so art was encouraged up to my eyeballs, which leaves me grateful beyond belief.) So then, I've been puzzling about how to pair music with lyrics. (One of my writers group buddies thinks I'm over-thinking this, and he's probably right.)
My husband is a musical genius, although he won't agree with me on this. He has dabbled with guitar since he was a teenager and can pick out many songs by ear. He can also compose amazing riffs and hooks on guitar. He does this as a hobby, as relaxation, so it can take him a long time to develop a song. He's been working on one for the past few months, refining and adding to it, and I've been listening to him play wondering how to write lyrics for the song. It's catchy and very pretty, sounding like a love song of sorts, but with a hint of longing. As I was listening yesterday, suddenly the words "emerald heart" came into my head, followed by several other lines as the chorus. I was blown away. Holy cow! My first lyrics to an actual song! Whoop! Whoop!
(Okay, maybe not my first. I made up a song I'd sing to Youngest Son when he was a baby. I'd hold him up facing the mirror after his bath and sing something with the words bouncing, baby, boy, bubbles, and bath, but, Lord help me, I can't for the life of me remember the thing. I also once wrote a song - music and lyrics - while dreaming, but it was gone when I woke.)
I'm so excited! My first lyrics that I've written down and remember. Now I've just got to get beyond one stanza.
Okay, now that the weather is out of the way . . . .
For most of my life I've been concerned about my voice, specifically my singing voice. A couple of negative experiences while growing up have caused me to doubt the sound of my singing voice. I'm pretty sure it's crap and I won't sing in front of anyone (except babies, and periodically my kids and husband) because I'm afraid of how my voice will be received. Frankly, I don't need any more knocks where this subject is concerned. As a young adult, I wouldn't even sing alone. I sing alone now all the time (especially in the car), so I've improved on that account. Obviously God isn't offended or I would've been struck dead by now. (Don't you love how non-judgmental God is? Not like us crazy humans.) In comparison, I've had no trouble accepting my speaking voice. I used to be in speech, the competitive kind, in middle school and I placed pretty well. Also, there was no cringing going on when I spoke, so I never developed a complex about it.
Ironically, when I really started writing, I discovered that writers were very concerned about voice in their work. I was too. How do you create a distinctive writing voice such that others know your work upon reading it? My writing voice has become pretty clear over the years. With that, I've branched into attempting other sorts of effects with my writing. I've tried writing about myself in third-person, which is a kick. I've tried poetry and humor. I've tried using fiction techniques (storytelling and description) in nonfiction. I've invented new words. One thing I'm still working on is how to use words in a musical way. How to write as though the words can be sung.
Having not been encouraged to be musical while growing up, the whole music thing is foreign to me. Well, not completely foreign, but it's not second nature. (I had a family full of crazy artists, not musicians, so art was encouraged up to my eyeballs, which leaves me grateful beyond belief.) So then, I've been puzzling about how to pair music with lyrics. (One of my writers group buddies thinks I'm over-thinking this, and he's probably right.)
My husband is a musical genius, although he won't agree with me on this. He has dabbled with guitar since he was a teenager and can pick out many songs by ear. He can also compose amazing riffs and hooks on guitar. He does this as a hobby, as relaxation, so it can take him a long time to develop a song. He's been working on one for the past few months, refining and adding to it, and I've been listening to him play wondering how to write lyrics for the song. It's catchy and very pretty, sounding like a love song of sorts, but with a hint of longing. As I was listening yesterday, suddenly the words "emerald heart" came into my head, followed by several other lines as the chorus. I was blown away. Holy cow! My first lyrics to an actual song! Whoop! Whoop!
(Okay, maybe not my first. I made up a song I'd sing to Youngest Son when he was a baby. I'd hold him up facing the mirror after his bath and sing something with the words bouncing, baby, boy, bubbles, and bath, but, Lord help me, I can't for the life of me remember the thing. I also once wrote a song - music and lyrics - while dreaming, but it was gone when I woke.)
I'm so excited! My first lyrics that I've written down and remember. Now I've just got to get beyond one stanza.
Labels: children, husband, lyrics, minnesota, music, rain, songs, voice, weather, writing, young son
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Hallelujah! Rain!
Overnight, between August 10 and 11, we were treated to a royal pounding - rain! If you remember correctly, my family had been scattered to the four winds. All were off doing various things - Daughter at a book signing, Sons at sleepovers, Husband fishing. The only one I expect home was Hubby. He called at about 9:00 p.m. saying he would be back to town for a couple more hours. I cleaned and did other household type things. While I was running from room-to-room, I stepped into our dark bedroom and saw a flash through the window - lightning. Pretty soon, I could hardly believe my ears - rain pitter-pattering on the roof. Glory be! But that was not the end. I went to bed. Hubby still wasn't home and I was getting worried. I half fell asleep, then woke at 12:30 a.m. Still no husband, but plenty of lightning, thunder and rain. I hoped that Hubby had taken a key because I wasn't sure I'd hear him if he pounded on the door. He was home by 1:30-ish, key in hand. It was still raining. I woke again at 3:30 a.m. and peeked out. The rain was coming in sheets. By morning it was gone, but it was good while it lasted.
Labels: children, cleaning, fishing, husband, minnesota, rain, thunder, weather
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Dump, Dump, Dump
We had rain today. Honest to goodness rain. A massive five-to-ten minute deluge. Dump, dump, dump, done. Young Son kindly ran out to the car to close my windows. He came back soaked, but nonetheless pleased with his mission.
Labels: minnesota, rain, weather, young son
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Weather Report
It's heating up here in central Minnesota. We woke to thunder and a gray sky this morning, desperately hoping it would rain. It's so dry here that the grass is a crunchy blonde crewcut. Sharp, too. I've been watering three beds - one with basil, one with lilies, and one with a mix of lilies, violets, chives and hostas. We don't bother with the grass. It's gone dormant, so we'd just be wasting water on America's weed of choice. We haven't had to mow in a month, that's how parched it is.
Well, our hopes were dashed. Not a drop of rain. I sort of suspected as much, which is why I watered this morning. The thunder stopped, the clouds cleared, and the sun was relentlessly sunny. The humidity is rising, but it wasn't terribly uncomfortable outside. A light breeze and no insects made for great sitting-out-on-the-porch-reading-and-knitting weather.
For your viewing pleasure, I've included a photo of one of our lilies. They smell heavenly. Oh, to have a scratch-n-sniff computer.
Labels: drought, grass, knitting, lily, minnesota, rain, reading, thunder, weather
Monday, July 02, 2007
A Weather Update
There's a misty rain in Minnesota today. We need the rain. We've had unbelievably gorgeous weather the past couple of weeks - sunny, warm, a few humid days, but still tolerable. The grass was getting crunchy, so the rain is good. My mom said that she was told as a kid that when you look up at an oak tree in the summer, you shouldn't be able to see sky through it. This year, lots of sky can be seen through the oaks. We're wondering if it's because we're low on moisture in general, or if there's some other factor causing it.
Rain or not, my big goal for the day was to take the recycling out to the landfill. Our back porch was getting full up. With the help of my daughter and Young Son #2, we got the deed done. Such a simple thing, but such a feeling of accomplishment.
Monday is normally my writing day, and I did get a little writing done, but just a little - a few hundred words. I'm having a little trouble with direction on story nine of my series. I think it needs more thinking. I've got my main characters figured out, which is a quarter of the battle. I've got the thing started, which is another quarter. But, I don't have an idea of the ending, which is a problem because I have to get from here to . . . where? I like to have a sense of my ending, even if I veer from it by the time I'm done, because it's how I get over the hump - and there's always a hump.
Time to moodle.
Rain or not, my big goal for the day was to take the recycling out to the landfill. Our back porch was getting full up. With the help of my daughter and Young Son #2, we got the deed done. Such a simple thing, but such a feeling of accomplishment.
Monday is normally my writing day, and I did get a little writing done, but just a little - a few hundred words. I'm having a little trouble with direction on story nine of my series. I think it needs more thinking. I've got my main characters figured out, which is a quarter of the battle. I've got the thing started, which is another quarter. But, I don't have an idea of the ending, which is a problem because I have to get from here to . . . where? I like to have a sense of my ending, even if I veer from it by the time I'm done, because it's how I get over the hump - and there's always a hump.
Time to moodle.
Labels: daughter, minnesota, moodle, oak trees, rain, recycling, short story, weather, writing, young son
Sunday, June 17, 2007
It's Not the Heat . . .
I was on StumbleUpon and found a website for a woman who is putting together a book based on fan experiences of Dave Matthews Band. The woman, Lynda from New York, has created some very fine art inspired by the band's music. Check it out here. There's a link to her MySpace page on her website for more personal info about the artist.
As a writer and artist, the idea of inspiration is an interesting one to me. What is it about a particular band's music, or a particular writer's essay or book, or a particular artist's painting, that drives us to create something new? How does that inspiration turn and twist through the fibers of our own experience and emotions to convolute into something new, something that may, in turn, be inspirational for someone else?
In thinking about this, it would be fascinating to take an inspirational work and put together a schematic of all the additional works the original has spawned. Take something like Poe's "The Raven" and chart out its influence. Hmmm. Has this ever been done before? The genealogy of a work of art?
In other news, it's miserable hot again. No wait! It's not the heat, it's the humidity. Windy as all get out, too. The silvery backs of leaves are showing themselves, which means we're in for rain. It can come none too soon. I'm roasting.
As a writer and artist, the idea of inspiration is an interesting one to me. What is it about a particular band's music, or a particular writer's essay or book, or a particular artist's painting, that drives us to create something new? How does that inspiration turn and twist through the fibers of our own experience and emotions to convolute into something new, something that may, in turn, be inspirational for someone else?
In thinking about this, it would be fascinating to take an inspirational work and put together a schematic of all the additional works the original has spawned. Take something like Poe's "The Raven" and chart out its influence. Hmmm. Has this ever been done before? The genealogy of a work of art?
In other news, it's miserable hot again. No wait! It's not the heat, it's the humidity. Windy as all get out, too. The silvery backs of leaves are showing themselves, which means we're in for rain. It can come none too soon. I'm roasting.
Labels: art, books, dave matthews band, dmb, edgar allan poe, fans, genealogy of creative work, inspiration, minnesota, music, rain, someone working on dmb book, stumbleupon, the raven, weather
Friday, June 15, 2007
Miserable Hot Followed by T-storms
It's miserably hot today, muggy with a capital MUG. It was worse in the house than outside when I got home. Cranky-making weather. We've had a few thunderstorms this evening - in quick with the rain, sometimes dumping, and then it stops. Very mild thunder, so I'm still on the computer. Not a good idea because mild thunder can quickly become major.
Labels: computer, minnesota, rain, thunder, weather
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Thunderous Downpour
Here's the thunderous downpour we got last Saturday afternoon. Hail preceded the massive soaking. Photos courtesy of Young Son Number Two.
Labels: minnesota, rain, son, weather
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Weather & Stuff
Memorial Day was gorgeous, so much so, with its balmy temperature, light wind, and limited mosquitos, that I spent most of it sitting outside with relatives. I started knitting a washcloth out of hemp yarn. My mother-in-law heard a mourning dove coo toward evening and said that we should expect rain by morning. My father-in-law said that weather radar didn't show rain. The next morning, it rained, proving that the mourning dove was more effective than the weather radar. Today we got more rain, on again-off again, at one point a thunderous downpour. We've needed it.
Memorial Day didn't feel like a Monday - more like a Sunday - but Monday it was. I added a bit to my latest short story upon waking and it was enough to make me feel productive. Monday holidays tend to throw the whole week off. Next week should be even worse for confusing my calendar. I'm taking three days off. My goal is to finish the story I'm working on, maybe start the next (although I'm not pushing it), and do some yard work. We'll see. It depends on the weather.
Memorial Day didn't feel like a Monday - more like a Sunday - but Monday it was. I added a bit to my latest short story upon waking and it was enough to make me feel productive. Monday holidays tend to throw the whole week off. Next week should be even worse for confusing my calendar. I'm taking three days off. My goal is to finish the story I'm working on, maybe start the next (although I'm not pushing it), and do some yard work. We'll see. It depends on the weather.
Labels: family, holidays, knitting, memorial day, minnesota, mourning dove, rain, vacation, weather, writing
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Photos of Rain
For your viewing pleasure, photos courtesy of my illustrious daughter, of the rain storm we had this past Sunday. We got drenched, which should be obvious from the puddles forming on our sidewalk.
Labels: daughter, minnesota, puddles, rain
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Keeping Occupied
My boys got a little bored with the rain this weekend and decided on an interesting project to keep them occupied.
The eldest painted the youngest. The armor, made entirely of cardboard by the eldest, was a previous project. The whole arrangement works well in that the eldest likes to design costumes and the youngest likes to dress up in them.
P.S. In case you hadn't noticed, I finally figured out how to post pictures. I'm thrilled no end.
The eldest painted the youngest. The armor, made entirely of cardboard by the eldest, was a previous project. The whole arrangement works well in that the eldest likes to design costumes and the youngest likes to dress up in them.
P.S. In case you hadn't noticed, I finally figured out how to post pictures. I'm thrilled no end.
Labels: armor, artistic endeavors, boredom, costumes, creativity, pictures, rain, sons
