Initial Writing Exercise

Directives given in first assignment:

Think of an object

What is its shape?  What is its texture? What color is it?  What does the object evoke in you?

Write about this object.  Timed for thirty minutes maximum.

Green Man on the Shed Door

He lives on in the cold January exterior.  His face is a yard wide, painted on rough cedar planking in acrylics of burnt sienna, thalo green, color of lemons and limes interwoven in the giant leaves of his face.  Stark black outlines his wreath of greenery making up his features.  Green Man's wide mouth, though worn down and made more faint by five harsh summer sunbeams and the like number of winters and cold rains coming down on his weathered cheeks, is nonetheless visible in a malevolent moue. His brows are painted veins of leaves twined between foliage.

Frozen boards below him are stiff with winter chill and the skiff of ice on the shed entranceway gives warning of careful entry into his kingdom of plastic chairs and worn pots.  He guards entrance to the lawnmower, now stiff from disuse, with his silent stare.  Guardian of the tool shed, he is a symbol of earth, of all things green and growing.  He is a mystical creature, a keen observer of creatures moving in the garden, animals gambling on the lawn.  In day, his countenance is obvious, but at night, he keeps close count of stealthy foxes and raccoons, always on the lookout for night creatures of mice skittering through tall buffalo grass.

The Green Man smiles, at least his painted-on moue perhaps grimaces at some unknown secret not yet revealed.  Maybe he is contemplating his future of soon-to-be warm days when perhaps yet even more undiscovered observations will occur under his benevolent, hooded eyes.

Is that smile on his face?  Or maybe it is I who sees a generous future harvest of wild flowers, showy zinnias, blue iris, herbs, all welcoming a much anticipated spring, and his face is reflecting my wishful gardening thoughts.

Writers Weekend Coming Up

Tomorrow and over the weekend fifteen women will be attending a writing workshop in the mountain of Colorado at the Redstone Inn, a quaint hotel originally built as a boarding house for coal and marble miners at the turn of the nineteenth century. I am delighted to be included in this group of women.

One of our readings in preparation of the workshop, in case you might want to take a further look at an author with whom you might be unfamiliar, is entitled The Tiger in the Grass by Harriet Doerr.   Born in 1910, Doerr began writing at the age of 67 and made a splash of a debut with her novel Stones of Ibarra at the age of 74.

excerpted from The Tiger in the Grass:

Updating information from the workshop next week.,,

Heralding our 25 Years of Marriage

A quarter of a century we have been married.

Gene and I have seen several family and friends' marriages occur over these years.  A few births in the family have happened, several pets acquired, and we have helped more than a few people through their last months on earth.  My husband and I have traveled a bit together, I was away in North Carolina for a graduate degree, and we both have since retired from our economic careers.  We have been through sickness and health. There has been a small lifetime of tragedies and triumphs through the years.

So I made a movie for Gene as an anniversary present.  (Journey supplies the lyrics and music.)

Through the Years

A faded wedding photograph.
You and me in our first dance.
Our eyes are closed.
We're lost in one sweet embrace.

Since those days the world has changed.
But our love remains the same.
God knows we've had our share of saving grace.

And I'm proud of all the blessings you have given me.
The mountains we have climbed to get this far.
We've learned to take the laughter with the tears.
After all these years.

You make it feel brand new.
After the fires that we walked through.
Against the odds we never lost our faith.

In a house we made our home.
Where our children all have grown
Precious moments time cannot erase.

Make a living up and down the gypsy highways.
The seasons that we had to share apart.
Somehow in my heart I always keep you near.
After all these years.

After all these years.
You stood by me the days and nights that I was gone.
After all these years.
You sacrificed, believed in me, and you stood strong.
Cause with our love there's nothing left to fear.
After all these years.

After all these years.
You stood by me the days and nights that I was gone.
After all these years.
You sacrificed, believed in me, and you stood strong.
Cause with our love there's nothing left to fear.
After all these years.