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Slowing Down. Paying Attention. Taking Note

_DSC7685I post here every Wednesday. Mostly about writing and life and sometimes about the way one bleeds into the other.

I post religiously. If only to keep my mind on the stories and my hands to the page.

Some weeks though, like this week, it seems silly to blog. Catching news clips on the earthquake in Nepal, reading articles about the unrest in Baltimore…to blog about everyday life and writing feels almost irreverent.

But in the midst of turmoil, there is a place for conversation on everyday living.

Last Saturday, I invited Lisa Rivero to visit with the writers at Harwood Place and speak about a project she’s been working on: transcribing the journals of her great aunt Harriet Whitcher into what she calls, The Hattie Diaries.

Hattie Whitcher 1881-1958
Hattie Whitcher 1881-1958

Hattie Whitcher is not a relative Lisa ever met in person but one she has come to know and appreciate through the journals Hattie left behind: ledgers and spiral-bound notebooks filled with daily entries that span over 37 years. That’s a stack of 70 books, handwritten in ink (and with very few mistakes)!

In her diaries (addressed to no one in particular), Hattie writes about daily life on the Great Plains from 1920-1957. At first it might seem trivial. How important are daily observations of farm life or reports on the South Dakota winds during times of the Depression or the War?

Here’s how. In her diaries, notes about a shift in the air mark a change in more than just weather. The desription of how a calf takes its first meal strikes the page with tenderness and maybe even grief. A July celebration in the middle of the Depression goes against all expectations and fills the day with joy and hope.

You might miss some of these undertones with first glance at Hattie’s journals; but as Lisa digs deeper into their pages, she sees more. With skill and creativity, she transcribes these handwritten entries into digital form, turning them into poems, videos, and flash narratives. She breathes new life into one woman’s past.

Go read some of Lisa’s work. Really. These pieces aren’t long, but they are powerful. And by presenting Hattie Whitcher’s writings in a new platform, Lisa offers readers a gift: lessons in slowing down, paying attention, and taking note.

Reminders that life is in the details, however simple.

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This is how you write on retreat.

IMG_0405A few weeks ago, I slipped away to a vacation home overlooking Lake Michigan for a self-made writing retreat. Almost three full days with a writing friend on one side and a knitting friend on the other, the fridge packed with snacks, and full view of the sunrise each morning meant No reason not to write, unless you consider the senseless chatter going on in my head.

Instead of rambling on about how much time I spent staring at the screen and such, let me ask you this: Have you seen the movie Adaptation? That scene where Nicolas Cage sits down to start writing his screen play? Whether life imitates art or vice versa, what his mind rattles on about while staring at his typewriter…well, change that receding hairline into a tight ponytail and that flannel into a green hoodie. Switch out the IBM with a Mac, and you have me:

IMG_0788To begin.
To begin.
How to start.
…
I’m hungry.
I should get coffee.
Coffee would help me think.
But I should write something first, then reward myself with coffee.
…
Coffee and a muffin.
Okay, so I need to establish the themes.
Maybe banana nut. That’s a good muffin.

 

I did good work over the long weekend, but only after I garbaged up on too many of those dark chocolate pomegranate thingies (I forgot the muffins) and overdosed on coffee coffee coffee. Of course, it was after all that eating and drinking that a gypsy showed up on scene. In the book, mind you, not in the living room. Though late-night writing under the glare of a phosphorescent computer screen while highly caffeinated may cause hallucinations. Anyway, it was all in the name of creativity.

How do you write? Is it over a banana nut? Because I’m partial to blueberry.

******

Wurlitzer-830x400Unrelated to retreat but tied to story, my short fiction, “The Wurlitzer,” has been set to music and is up for your listening ears on Grand Piano Passion.

Many thanks to pianist, Nancy M. Williams and editor, Joanna Eng!

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Surrender the Pen, A repost of an old post and a “Note to Self”

I love stats. This coming from the person who can’t figure a out a tip for the waitress without a long pause, a heavy sigh, and some frantic figuring.

imageWhat I mean to say is, I love stats when someone else is compiling them.

WordPress runs figures on my website and puts them in pretty little bar graphs and impressive all-time numbers that make me feel like, Hey…job well done for the most part. In taking a peek at them this week, I realized that I’ve been writing posts for this blog for almost six years, inviting over 30,000 visits and marking over 1000 comments.

Numbers, yada yada, numbers.

What’s more fun is seeing the posts that people visit most, from “You Talk Too Much” (I will try not to take that personally) to “This is gonna hurt a little” (ahh…writing). So, in the vein of “It’s almost my blog-iversary” (maybe I’ll do something bigger come July), here’s a post from four years ago. It only hit the halfway mark in most viewed, but it reminds me of a treasured time and place and a lesson that never grows old.

Surrender the Pen

Right after you bring that crazy busy week to a close, just as you head out of town with family, as soon as you think to yourself, No chance for writing, I’m sure, there you are, surrounded by inspiration, ideas, and gifted with little pockets of time. That was me, last weekend: deep in the north woods, working hard not to worry about the book I wanted to finish reading and the interview questions I had to write and the blog post I needed to draft; thinking, if I won’t have time to write, I might as well forget it. I might as well enjoy every minute of this last vacation of the season. It was then that creativity started popping up everywhere. Time expanded, so I could scribble more words into my notebook than I expected.

The creative process is a process of surrender, not control.
~ Julia Cameron

Birchbark Kingdom

Three days in the woods is ample time for kids to create a whole world under a canopy of birch and pine. The path leading up to Birchbark Kingdom (as they called it) was lined with twigs and moss and gave way underfoot ever so slightly, hinting at the years it took to form and the relief in (finally) being discovered. There were birch bark crowns for everyone (taken from a fallen soldier), designated guards, and a store that ran on a strange stick-bartering system. I took mental notes. I drew from their free-spirited imagination.

Campfire Revelations

We burned only one camp fire over the weekend, and I’m glad I didn’t skip the opportunity to sit in the circle. Besides the chocolate, graham crackers, and monster-sized marshmallows, camp fires are where stories are told, where people and real-life events spark a writer’s mind with scenes for “that novel” or idiosyncrasies for characters barely developed. I made s’mores, listened intently, then ran inside and wrote down those ideas, because bits and pieces of different conversations often come together to form whole, made-up stories.

Endings

Like the last few pages in a good book, the sunset on the final evening brought the rush of fun to a quiet, satisfying close. I had just walked the path of Birchbark Kingdom when I turned and saw shades of pink riding along the water, sifting through the clouds, the boat turned over, hunkered down for the winter.

And, in that moment, I realized time is never wasted. The whole weekend had been one long and unplanned artist date.

Artist Dates fire up the imagination. They spark whimsy. They encourage play. …[Art feeds] our creative work by replenishing our inner well of images and inspiration.
~Julia Cameron, on juliacameronlive.com

Sometimes, letting go of the work is as important as doing the work.

What surprised you this week and sent you running to your notebook?