Another Little Part of My Story

Adrienne Scanlon, the creator of My Memory Art Blog invited me recently to be part of a blog tour.  She hosts some fun link-ups such as Six Word Fridays, and Black & White Wednesdays. I appreciate her thoughtfulness and the fun she brings to blogging, plus I also enjoy her photos.  

In this post I will answer, or at least try to answer the questions she gave me.  The photos are included just … because.

1. How does your writing process work?

First there is procrastination.  
Then I might distract myself by getting a drink or snack, or both.  
Then I get frustrated. 
Finally….finally…I settle down and listen to the Nudges.  The Nudges don’t let me loose until I really do pay attention.  
Once I relax and open my heart, the words usually come.

Then I do a lot of editing.   

2. Why do you write what you do?
I write what I do because of those Nudges.
And because I have a story to tell, just like you.  This is how I choose to tell it, but using technology and photography.  Others tell there stories in different ways, different art forms.
I write what I do because I want my readers to enjoy the beauty that is all around us. We need this today in a world that only wants to point to what is wrong.  

3. How does your work differ from others in the same genre?

My work is different simply because it comes from me, from my viewpoint, through my own lenses (both literal and figurative).  Put 2 photographers in front of a subject and let them take images of it, and you will find some that are similar but some will be quite different.  Tell 2 people to write about an elephant and those writings will reflect much about who each person is.  

I believe I have been put here to share what I see, to show others the beauty in the simple things, to lift up this life and all its experiences through words carefully chosen.

4. What are you working on?
In the month of July I plan to write about “Going Home”, challenging myself to write 50,000 words again as part of National Novel Writing Month.   I’m thinking about the times we have moved into a new home and how it took a while for that place to feel like home.  This is a photographic challenge as well…what images of home tug at the heart?

In passing the baton to other bloggers I have chosen two gals who I consider to be dear friends, even though we have never met in person.   Cathy of Grandma’s Little Corner shares her amazing photos and stories of her life in Arkansas.  I also tagged Leon of Sea Blue Lens who also shares her lovely photos and writings online. I’m hoping that each one will share part of who they are in the coming weeks.  


Woven heart

Riding in the back seat, my two dear friends talking in the front, I chose to listen to music on my phone and just kind of zone out for a while.  Sometimes in the morning I’m not ready for a lot of conversation, and this was my introverted way to cope.

We traveled smoothly along a highway free of snow and ice, passing a few towns, seeing farm land and old barns now and then.  The sun was partly obscured by thin, high clouds, giving everything a creamy white softness, gentle on the eyes.

Many of the sights were familiar because we have been on this same road many times, either in this annual pilgrimage or on our own separate journeys.  Winter had made it all brown and dull, but even in that, it was a beautiful ride.

Passing one old barn yard I noticed the holes in the roof, the broken down fence, the rotting wood siding, and wondered to myself for the hundredth time what it was that drew my attention to those old relics of the past.  I thought of how the man made stuff rots and decays eventually.  

A still, small voice told me that yes, what man creates will be lost, but you, who I love, your soul is eternal and will never go away.  In that fleeting moment I was inspired.  I held those words in my own heart. The music in my head phones continued and we soon reached our destination.

Later that morning, I sat in a room that was quiet except for soothing music in the background, listening to instructions by a dear friend for making a woven heart, hearing and reading about meditative practices.  A place to create, an opportunity to simply be in the moment.

The still, small voice called to me again.  

I have woven you together, 
every cell, every hair, each heart beat.  
Woven, from the first strands of love. 
Delicate fibers spun by my hands,
gathered together in rhythm and cadence, 
each tiny fiber of divine.
This, you. 
From my weaver’s loom, 
draped around this beautiful soul.

My woven paper heart was coming together, and it took a while to pull it into the shape it was intended to be.  A simple bit of creating, but so full of inspiration.  My pencil was busy writing the words that poured forth, words that now covered the outside of a large envelope.    

In the weaving
we are born.
From the shaping and pulling comes our strength.
As we share this fabric
that is our life….
which has no hem….
blankets the lives we touch.