Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Find Your Orange Chair: Find Your Orange Chair: Life in Moments...
Find Your Orange Chair: Find Your Orange Chair: Life in Moments...: Find Your Orange Chair: Life in Moments... : "Moments.... Life lessons do come in the smallest of moments. The difficult part is recognizin...
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Inbetween the Pages
Inbetween the Pages
Ah the debate, E-Reader vs. the feel of a 'real' book! I won't say I'm a convert, but I do appreciate the technology! I think there is room, and need for both in this world.
As an avid book collector I believe books, and some more than others, have souls. If you are a connoisseur of used book stores you will understand my thought on this idea.
I wrote a book! Do you know how hard that was for me to say out loud, and it's been two years since I put it to paper. But people look at you like 'sure, you wrote a book', then you get the implied eye roll. Well, no one actually did that but it felt like they could, or surely would if I said "I Wrote a Book' out loud. Initially I set out to write it just for me. The task of starting and finishing this thing that was inside of me. I had always wanted to write but never thought I could, and by could I mean I never thought I had anything to say...that anyone would want to read! This book wasn't something I dwelled on, or planned, it just happened.
One morning during Christmas break, in 2008, and by morning I mean 4:30 am, I woke up with a story idea, I kid you not. I had had that experience before, not as strong, and I never got up to write anything down. But this time I got up and grabbed a pen and paper and started to write. I started writing that day and didn't stop until the last day of school, end of May 2009....120,000 words later. It became an obsession! I will describe the experience like this...it's as though someone opened one of my veins and words poured out. When I wrote everything stopped around me, it was as though time stood still, I was somewhere else during those moments. The book was gift, I truly believe that.
My family knew I was writing the book, but even they stepped quietly around the issue. It was a burden to them because the book took me out of family life, as I said before, time for me stopped when I was writing. And the idea that I was writing a book, right, mom writing a book...seriously? "Oh God she's going to want us to read it and how do we not hurt her feelings when we have to tell her it's crap." So there were some really weird vibes being tossed around during that time. It was weird for me as well. I felt like I had a good story, I loved my characters. Tears would stream down my face sometimes when I would write, but I would just keep writing. It was as if I never knew what was going to happen next, and I was so taken in by the moments on these pages that the emotions just overwhelmed me sometimes...I was both the reader and writer of this book.
The day I finished the book I was elated, and I cried, oh did I cry. I knew I still had two books to write, to really tell the whole story, so I didn't have to say goodbye to my characters, not yet. But the epilogue, in this book, still can make me cry today when I read it. And it may not do a damn thing for anyone else, but it makes ME cry! I am writing the series backwards, the first book is the last in the series, so in essence the end was written and I think that's what hit hard for me...because I see all (3) books when I read the end, I know the challenges these two characters have faced. But I'm getting off track. The book is finished, now what?
Now what? Do I tell other people, do I let my family read this, what do I do now? Well I didn't tell other people at this point. I really wanted my daughter to read it. She was an avid reader, this was her genre', and she would be honest with me, to the point of brutality. But that's what I wanted, honesty!! Writing though...it's putting a part of yourself out there that no one else sees, not even your family really. You bare everything about yourself when you write, especially fiction. Fiction is something that comes from somewhere inside of you, stories that only your soul knows. And now I was going to put it out there for everyone to have an opinion on, or critique...do you know how terrifying that is? It did not come easily for me, allowing others inside my place of refuge.
My daughter was surprised when she read it, it was good. I don't think it's what she expected because your mom is your mom, not a writer or anything else...just your mom. I did send this out to publishers, and it was picked up by a group in Indy, that was later indited for fraud before my book made it onto a shelf. My friends that is a story for another day, and I do promise to share it with you. I was in good company though, this guy even had Mitch Daniels wife, governor of Indiana, in his office for her children's book. My life was experiencing some major changes during this time so I put the book on the shelf for a bit, but it's now two years later and it's time to start pitching it again. I have the other two books started and I like where they are going. It's time to get back on this journey I began and see where my road goes.
So how does this relate to my initial opening sentence, in this blog? Books have souls, I know because I wrote one...not just my soul, but so many others, and a soul of it's own. The physicality of a book allows us to 'be' with it, curl up in our favorite space, dog-ear our favorite page, hi-lite a special sentence...press a flower between it's pages, hide a note within, personalize it with an inscription. We add 'us', our soul, as it's reader to it's pages. We can't do that with an e-reader, it's just not the same. But e-readers have their place in this world, and I do like them...increasing the font size, and light, something you may not appreciate until you are over the age of 40!!
But one of the greatest joys in buying old books is what you sometimes find tucked between the pages. These books, the books that contain secrets from it's previous owners, have a story within a story. I've found receipts from restaurants, dry cleaning receipts, hotel check-out slips, pressed flowers, letters, notes, and beautiful inscriptions. The inscriptions are somewhat sad because at some point this book was chosen specifically for another person, great thought was given to this gift, and to the words left behind. It links you to this other person, this other being that read the very words you are about to read. You wonder who they were, what their story was, and what happened to them...did these words make a significant difference in their life, or did they ever even open it.
My suggestion is this...take an afternoon to peruse a used book store, or a Goodwill (they have great used books). Think about the lives that have touched the pages you now touch, from the writer to each and every reader. We are all so much more than we believe we are...fear keeps us from really exploring who it is we are to become! I will leave you with a quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald, "You don't write because you want to say something, you write because you have something to say."
As an avid book collector I believe books, and some more than others, have souls. If you are a connoisseur of used book stores you will understand my thought on this idea.
I wrote a book! Do you know how hard that was for me to say out loud, and it's been two years since I put it to paper. But people look at you like 'sure, you wrote a book', then you get the implied eye roll. Well, no one actually did that but it felt like they could, or surely would if I said "I Wrote a Book' out loud. Initially I set out to write it just for me. The task of starting and finishing this thing that was inside of me. I had always wanted to write but never thought I could, and by could I mean I never thought I had anything to say...that anyone would want to read! This book wasn't something I dwelled on, or planned, it just happened.
One morning during Christmas break, in 2008, and by morning I mean 4:30 am, I woke up with a story idea, I kid you not. I had had that experience before, not as strong, and I never got up to write anything down. But this time I got up and grabbed a pen and paper and started to write. I started writing that day and didn't stop until the last day of school, end of May 2009....120,000 words later. It became an obsession! I will describe the experience like this...it's as though someone opened one of my veins and words poured out. When I wrote everything stopped around me, it was as though time stood still, I was somewhere else during those moments. The book was gift, I truly believe that.
My family knew I was writing the book, but even they stepped quietly around the issue. It was a burden to them because the book took me out of family life, as I said before, time for me stopped when I was writing. And the idea that I was writing a book, right, mom writing a book...seriously? "Oh God she's going to want us to read it and how do we not hurt her feelings when we have to tell her it's crap." So there were some really weird vibes being tossed around during that time. It was weird for me as well. I felt like I had a good story, I loved my characters. Tears would stream down my face sometimes when I would write, but I would just keep writing. It was as if I never knew what was going to happen next, and I was so taken in by the moments on these pages that the emotions just overwhelmed me sometimes...I was both the reader and writer of this book.
The day I finished the book I was elated, and I cried, oh did I cry. I knew I still had two books to write, to really tell the whole story, so I didn't have to say goodbye to my characters, not yet. But the epilogue, in this book, still can make me cry today when I read it. And it may not do a damn thing for anyone else, but it makes ME cry! I am writing the series backwards, the first book is the last in the series, so in essence the end was written and I think that's what hit hard for me...because I see all (3) books when I read the end, I know the challenges these two characters have faced. But I'm getting off track. The book is finished, now what?
Now what? Do I tell other people, do I let my family read this, what do I do now? Well I didn't tell other people at this point. I really wanted my daughter to read it. She was an avid reader, this was her genre', and she would be honest with me, to the point of brutality. But that's what I wanted, honesty!! Writing though...it's putting a part of yourself out there that no one else sees, not even your family really. You bare everything about yourself when you write, especially fiction. Fiction is something that comes from somewhere inside of you, stories that only your soul knows. And now I was going to put it out there for everyone to have an opinion on, or critique...do you know how terrifying that is? It did not come easily for me, allowing others inside my place of refuge.
My daughter was surprised when she read it, it was good. I don't think it's what she expected because your mom is your mom, not a writer or anything else...just your mom. I did send this out to publishers, and it was picked up by a group in Indy, that was later indited for fraud before my book made it onto a shelf. My friends that is a story for another day, and I do promise to share it with you. I was in good company though, this guy even had Mitch Daniels wife, governor of Indiana, in his office for her children's book. My life was experiencing some major changes during this time so I put the book on the shelf for a bit, but it's now two years later and it's time to start pitching it again. I have the other two books started and I like where they are going. It's time to get back on this journey I began and see where my road goes.
So how does this relate to my initial opening sentence, in this blog? Books have souls, I know because I wrote one...not just my soul, but so many others, and a soul of it's own. The physicality of a book allows us to 'be' with it, curl up in our favorite space, dog-ear our favorite page, hi-lite a special sentence...press a flower between it's pages, hide a note within, personalize it with an inscription. We add 'us', our soul, as it's reader to it's pages. We can't do that with an e-reader, it's just not the same. But e-readers have their place in this world, and I do like them...increasing the font size, and light, something you may not appreciate until you are over the age of 40!!
But one of the greatest joys in buying old books is what you sometimes find tucked between the pages. These books, the books that contain secrets from it's previous owners, have a story within a story. I've found receipts from restaurants, dry cleaning receipts, hotel check-out slips, pressed flowers, letters, notes, and beautiful inscriptions. The inscriptions are somewhat sad because at some point this book was chosen specifically for another person, great thought was given to this gift, and to the words left behind. It links you to this other person, this other being that read the very words you are about to read. You wonder who they were, what their story was, and what happened to them...did these words make a significant difference in their life, or did they ever even open it.
My suggestion is this...take an afternoon to peruse a used book store, or a Goodwill (they have great used books). Think about the lives that have touched the pages you now touch, from the writer to each and every reader. We are all so much more than we believe we are...fear keeps us from really exploring who it is we are to become! I will leave you with a quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald, "You don't write because you want to say something, you write because you have something to say."
Friday, June 3, 2011
Find Your Orange Chair: Life in Moments...
Find Your Orange Chair: Life in Moments...: "Moments.... Life lessons do come in the smallest of moments. The difficult part is recognizing them when they happen. A little orange chai..."
Find Your Orange Chair: Inbetween the Pages
Find Your Orange Chair: Inbetween the Pages: "Ah the debate, E-Reader vs. the feel of a 'real' book! I won't say I'm a convert, but I do appreciate the technology! I think there is roo..."
Inbetween the Pages
Ah the debate, E-Reader vs. the feel of a 'real' book! I won't say I'm a convert, but I do appreciate the technology! I think there is room, and need for both in this world.
As an avid book collector I believe books, and some more than others, have souls. If you are a connoisseur of used book stores you will understand my thought on this idea.
I wrote a book! Do you know how hard that was for me to say out loud, and it's been two years since I put it to paper. But people look at you like 'sure, you wrote a book', then you get the implied eye roll. Well, no one actually did that but it felt like they could, or surely would if I said "I Wrote a Book' out loud. Initially I set out to write it just for me. The task of starting and finishing this thing that was inside of me. I had always wanted to write but never thought I could, and by could I mean I never thought I had anything to say...that anyone would want to read! This book wasn't something I dwelled on, or planned, it just happened.
One morning during Christmas break, in 2008, and by morning I mean 4:30 am, I woke up with a story idea, I kid you not. I had had that experience before, not as strong, and I never got up to write anything down. But this time I got up and grabbed a pen and paper and started to write. I started writing that day and didn't stop until the last day of school, end of May 2009....120,000 words later. It became an obsession! I will describe the experience like this...it's as though someone opened one of my veins and words poured out. When I wrote everything stopped around me, it was as though time stood still, I was somewhere else during those moments. The book was gift, I truly believe that.
My family knew I was writing the book, but even they stepped quietly around the issue. It was a burden to them because the book took me out of family life, as I said before, time for me stopped when I was writing. And the idea that I was writing a book, right, mom writing a book...seriously? "Oh God she's going to want us to read it and how do we not hurt her feelings when we have to tell her it's crap." So there were some really weird vibes being tossed around during that time. It was weird for me as well. I felt like I had a good story, I loved my characters. Tears would stream down my face sometimes when I would write, but I would just keep writing. It was as if I never knew what was going to happen next, and I was so taken in by the moments on these pages that the emotions just overwhelmed me sometimes...I was both the reader and writer of this book.
The day I finished the book I was elated, and I cried, oh did I cry. I knew I still had two books to write, to really tell the whole story, so I didn't have to say goodbye to my characters, not yet. But the epilogue, in this book, still can make me cry today when I read it. And it may not do a damn thing for anyone else, but it makes ME cry! I am writing the series backwards, the first book is the last in the series, so in essence the end was written and I think that's what hit hard for me...because I see all (3) books when I read the end, I know the challenges these two characters have faced. But I'm getting off track. The book is finished, now what?
Now what? Do I tell other people, do I let my family read this, what do I do now? Well I didn't tell other people at this point. I really wanted my daughter to read it. She was an avid reader, this was her genre', and she would be honest with me, to the point of brutality. But that's what I wanted, honesty!! Writing though...it's putting a part of yourself out there that no one else sees, not even your family really. You bare everything about yourself when you write, especially fiction. Fiction is something that comes from somewhere inside of you, stories that only your soul knows. And now I was going to put it out there for everyone to have an opinion on, or critique...do you know how terrifying that is? It did not come easily for me, allowing others inside my place of refuge.
My daughter was surprised when she read it, it was good. I don't think it's what she expected because your mom is your mom, not a writer or anything else...just your mom. I did send this out to publishers, and it was picked up by a group in Indy, that was later indited for fraud before my book made it onto a shelf. My friends that is a story for another day, and I do promise to share it with you. I was in good company though, this guy even had Mitch Daniels wife, governor of Indiana, in his office for her children's book. My life was experiencing some major changes during this time so I put the book on the shelf for a bit, but it's now two years later and it's time to start pitching it again. I have the other two books started and I like where they are going. It's time to get back on this journey I began and see where my road goes.
So how does this relate to my initial opening sentence, in this blog? Books have souls, I know because I wrote one...not just my soul, but so many others, and a soul of it's own. The physicality of a book allows us to 'be' with it, curl up in our favorite space, dog-ear our favorite page, hi-lite a special sentence...press a flower between it's pages, hide a note within, personalize it with an inscription. We add 'us', our soul, as it's reader to it's pages. We can't do that with an e-reader, it's just not the same. But e-readers have their place in this world, and I do like them...increasing the font size, and light, something you may not appreciate until you are over the age of 40!!
But one of the greatest joys in buying old books is what you sometimes find tucked between the pages. These books, the books that contain secrets from it's previous owners, have a story within a story. I've found receipts from restaurants, dry cleaning receipts, hotel check-out slips, pressed flowers, letters, notes, and beautiful inscriptions. The inscriptions are somewhat sad because at some point this book was chosen specifically for another person, great thought was given to this gift, and to the words left behind. It links you to this other person, this other being that read the very words you are about to read. You wonder who they were, what their story was, and what happened to them...did these words make a significant difference in their life, or did they ever even open it.
My suggestion is this...take an afternoon to peruse a used book store, or a Goodwill (they have great used books). Think about the lives that have touched the pages you now touch, from the writer to each and every reader. We are all so much more than we believe we are...fear keeps us from really exploring who it is we are to become! I will leave you with a quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald, "You don't write because you want to say something, you write because you have something to say."
As an avid book collector I believe books, and some more than others, have souls. If you are a connoisseur of used book stores you will understand my thought on this idea.
I wrote a book! Do you know how hard that was for me to say out loud, and it's been two years since I put it to paper. But people look at you like 'sure, you wrote a book', then you get the implied eye roll. Well, no one actually did that but it felt like they could, or surely would if I said "I Wrote a Book' out loud. Initially I set out to write it just for me. The task of starting and finishing this thing that was inside of me. I had always wanted to write but never thought I could, and by could I mean I never thought I had anything to say...that anyone would want to read! This book wasn't something I dwelled on, or planned, it just happened.
One morning during Christmas break, in 2008, and by morning I mean 4:30 am, I woke up with a story idea, I kid you not. I had had that experience before, not as strong, and I never got up to write anything down. But this time I got up and grabbed a pen and paper and started to write. I started writing that day and didn't stop until the last day of school, end of May 2009....120,000 words later. It became an obsession! I will describe the experience like this...it's as though someone opened one of my veins and words poured out. When I wrote everything stopped around me, it was as though time stood still, I was somewhere else during those moments. The book was gift, I truly believe that.
My family knew I was writing the book, but even they stepped quietly around the issue. It was a burden to them because the book took me out of family life, as I said before, time for me stopped when I was writing. And the idea that I was writing a book, right, mom writing a book...seriously? "Oh God she's going to want us to read it and how do we not hurt her feelings when we have to tell her it's crap." So there were some really weird vibes being tossed around during that time. It was weird for me as well. I felt like I had a good story, I loved my characters. Tears would stream down my face sometimes when I would write, but I would just keep writing. It was as if I never knew what was going to happen next, and I was so taken in by the moments on these pages that the emotions just overwhelmed me sometimes...I was both the reader and writer of this book.
The day I finished the book I was elated, and I cried, oh did I cry. I knew I still had two books to write, to really tell the whole story, so I didn't have to say goodbye to my characters, not yet. But the epilogue, in this book, still can make me cry today when I read it. And it may not do a damn thing for anyone else, but it makes ME cry! I am writing the series backwards, the first book is the last in the series, so in essence the end was written and I think that's what hit hard for me...because I see all (3) books when I read the end, I know the challenges these two characters have faced. But I'm getting off track. The book is finished, now what?
Now what? Do I tell other people, do I let my family read this, what do I do now? Well I didn't tell other people at this point. I really wanted my daughter to read it. She was an avid reader, this was her genre', and she would be honest with me, to the point of brutality. But that's what I wanted, honesty!! Writing though...it's putting a part of yourself out there that no one else sees, not even your family really. You bare everything about yourself when you write, especially fiction. Fiction is something that comes from somewhere inside of you, stories that only your soul knows. And now I was going to put it out there for everyone to have an opinion on, or critique...do you know how terrifying that is? It did not come easily for me, allowing others inside my place of refuge.
My daughter was surprised when she read it, it was good. I don't think it's what she expected because your mom is your mom, not a writer or anything else...just your mom. I did send this out to publishers, and it was picked up by a group in Indy, that was later indited for fraud before my book made it onto a shelf. My friends that is a story for another day, and I do promise to share it with you. I was in good company though, this guy even had Mitch Daniels wife, governor of Indiana, in his office for her children's book. My life was experiencing some major changes during this time so I put the book on the shelf for a bit, but it's now two years later and it's time to start pitching it again. I have the other two books started and I like where they are going. It's time to get back on this journey I began and see where my road goes.
So how does this relate to my initial opening sentence, in this blog? Books have souls, I know because I wrote one...not just my soul, but so many others, and a soul of it's own. The physicality of a book allows us to 'be' with it, curl up in our favorite space, dog-ear our favorite page, hi-lite a special sentence...press a flower between it's pages, hide a note within, personalize it with an inscription. We add 'us', our soul, as it's reader to it's pages. We can't do that with an e-reader, it's just not the same. But e-readers have their place in this world, and I do like them...increasing the font size, and light, something you may not appreciate until you are over the age of 40!!
But one of the greatest joys in buying old books is what you sometimes find tucked between the pages. These books, the books that contain secrets from it's previous owners, have a story within a story. I've found receipts from restaurants, dry cleaning receipts, hotel check-out slips, pressed flowers, letters, notes, and beautiful inscriptions. The inscriptions are somewhat sad because at some point this book was chosen specifically for another person, great thought was given to this gift, and to the words left behind. It links you to this other person, this other being that read the very words you are about to read. You wonder who they were, what their story was, and what happened to them...did these words make a significant difference in their life, or did they ever even open it.
My suggestion is this...take an afternoon to peruse a used book store, or a Goodwill (they have great used books). Think about the lives that have touched the pages you now touch, from the writer to each and every reader. We are all so much more than we believe we are...fear keeps us from really exploring who it is we are to become! I will leave you with a quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald, "You don't write because you want to say something, you write because you have something to say."
Sunday, February 6, 2011
The Winter of Change!
Oh what a winter this has been! I haven't taken the time to write much. Life took over and pursued me rather steadily, so much so that I haven't had time to reflect.
We moved...talk about life taking over. The move itself captured much of October and November. Christmas happened, like it does every year, but it always sort of surprises me, like I forget it's coming. We have a love hate relationship, Christmas and I! I also started a new job...it's a different type of job, the kind where you don't get paid. I've never really had one of those before...I finally came to the conclusion, after working for (3) + months and only getting two weeks pay that perhaps it was not a job.
What have I learned, trust your first instinct...I've been scammed once, and taken advantage of once... I hate to call this last "sort of job" a scam. I truly believe the company meant well, they just really sucked at business. They were in a line of work they knew nothing about. The business ran them, they didn't run the business. I truly got scammed on my book deal, but I was in good company. The head of the Democratic committee, for Indiana/Obama, and Mitch Daniels wife were taken down the road as well. You know, I had this weird feeling on both accounts, the job and the publisher, the very first time I talked to either group...listen to your intuition because it's alway right.
I thought, you know it works both ways. If you are going to trust your instincts on the bad stuff then shouldn't you trust your instincts on the good stuff as well? I had a dream back in May, about opening my own business. I've decided to actually listen to my gut on this one, finally! As I sat here working on a website yesterday I thought...you know when I was little I used to pretend that I ran a school, for the performing arts. Now mind you I pretended a lot, I have numerous scenarios I could dish about...I also pretended to have a big horse show in my side yard, a big sales pen in the barn (I would sell very expensive race horses), I was a frontiersman sometimes in my woods, and Barbie...well I didn't use her as a fashion icon, no she was diving in the depths of the horse tank saving people. Yeah, me and my imagination were best buds, and I still make frequents calls to chat..to remind myself of those special times. Oh...getting back to the business...
"Stage Roots", education with all of the drama... Improv workshops for children, teens, adults, and the corporate world. I have been a faithful believer in the creative, fostering a creative environment, especially for children. Through play children develop socially, they learn to problem solve and communicate. Improv is this wonderful world full of game play; game play free from judgement, and competition. Try to "be good" or avoid "being bad" results in a serious loss of personal experience. Children constantly seek that pat on the head, or they become passive due to past failures. Passivity is a response to authority, a giving up of responsibilty. Improv will help those who are passive to trust themselves and others to make decisions and take risks. It taps into the intuitive, the intuitive is where the genius lives in all of us.
I'm not going to give you the whole sales pitch on my improv classes...I will just send you to my website. The point is this...my intution tells me that this is exactly what I need to do, start this business, and yet I question if I am worthy. Why, why do we question ourselves. I just met and worked with a woman who didn't know a thing about what she was doing, and yet she had (3) buildings, a transportation service, (7) office people that she couldn't pay, and a plethora of caregivers and billing the state for Medicaid. Yet, she is fully determined to make it work...I believe she told me that she hopes to be making over $10,000.00 a month. And a man who would have sold publishing to the Queen of England. Yet I still question the validity of my choice...and I actually have taught improv for a number of years, direct musical theatre, and spent (9) years in education. It's just funny how everyone approaches life.
Anyway...it has been a winter of change, and it's not over yet, the change or the winter. I don't know I kind of like not knowing what's around the corner. I don't like the whole being "poor" part, which I am right now. But I do know that when we are comfortable we tend to rest on our laurels, afraid to lose that comfort, and when we have nothing to lose we are much more willing to take risks. I'm about to see where risk takes me.
Oh, and you know the first piece of furniture I plan to add to my office...when I get one...that's not in my house? My orange chair...now there was a risk!
Here we come February...
We moved...talk about life taking over. The move itself captured much of October and November. Christmas happened, like it does every year, but it always sort of surprises me, like I forget it's coming. We have a love hate relationship, Christmas and I! I also started a new job...it's a different type of job, the kind where you don't get paid. I've never really had one of those before...I finally came to the conclusion, after working for (3) + months and only getting two weeks pay that perhaps it was not a job.
What have I learned, trust your first instinct...I've been scammed once, and taken advantage of once... I hate to call this last "sort of job" a scam. I truly believe the company meant well, they just really sucked at business. They were in a line of work they knew nothing about. The business ran them, they didn't run the business. I truly got scammed on my book deal, but I was in good company. The head of the Democratic committee, for Indiana/Obama, and Mitch Daniels wife were taken down the road as well. You know, I had this weird feeling on both accounts, the job and the publisher, the very first time I talked to either group...listen to your intuition because it's alway right.
I thought, you know it works both ways. If you are going to trust your instincts on the bad stuff then shouldn't you trust your instincts on the good stuff as well? I had a dream back in May, about opening my own business. I've decided to actually listen to my gut on this one, finally! As I sat here working on a website yesterday I thought...you know when I was little I used to pretend that I ran a school, for the performing arts. Now mind you I pretended a lot, I have numerous scenarios I could dish about...I also pretended to have a big horse show in my side yard, a big sales pen in the barn (I would sell very expensive race horses), I was a frontiersman sometimes in my woods, and Barbie...well I didn't use her as a fashion icon, no she was diving in the depths of the horse tank saving people. Yeah, me and my imagination were best buds, and I still make frequents calls to chat..to remind myself of those special times. Oh...getting back to the business...
"Stage Roots", education with all of the drama... Improv workshops for children, teens, adults, and the corporate world. I have been a faithful believer in the creative, fostering a creative environment, especially for children. Through play children develop socially, they learn to problem solve and communicate. Improv is this wonderful world full of game play; game play free from judgement, and competition. Try to "be good" or avoid "being bad" results in a serious loss of personal experience. Children constantly seek that pat on the head, or they become passive due to past failures. Passivity is a response to authority, a giving up of responsibilty. Improv will help those who are passive to trust themselves and others to make decisions and take risks. It taps into the intuitive, the intuitive is where the genius lives in all of us.
I'm not going to give you the whole sales pitch on my improv classes...I will just send you to my website. The point is this...my intution tells me that this is exactly what I need to do, start this business, and yet I question if I am worthy. Why, why do we question ourselves. I just met and worked with a woman who didn't know a thing about what she was doing, and yet she had (3) buildings, a transportation service, (7) office people that she couldn't pay, and a plethora of caregivers and billing the state for Medicaid. Yet, she is fully determined to make it work...I believe she told me that she hopes to be making over $10,000.00 a month. And a man who would have sold publishing to the Queen of England. Yet I still question the validity of my choice...and I actually have taught improv for a number of years, direct musical theatre, and spent (9) years in education. It's just funny how everyone approaches life.
Anyway...it has been a winter of change, and it's not over yet, the change or the winter. I don't know I kind of like not knowing what's around the corner. I don't like the whole being "poor" part, which I am right now. But I do know that when we are comfortable we tend to rest on our laurels, afraid to lose that comfort, and when we have nothing to lose we are much more willing to take risks. I'm about to see where risk takes me.
Oh, and you know the first piece of furniture I plan to add to my office...when I get one...that's not in my house? My orange chair...now there was a risk!
Here we come February...
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Chasing Christmas.....
There is a book that I want to share with all of you. I read this book, every year to my classes, when I was the librarian at Parkside Elementary. It's a children's book by Richard Paul Evans, "The Light of Christmas". It gives a very clear view on what's truly important, not just at Christmas, but all year long. Children and adults have lost sight of what the day truly represents...and I too am guilty.
Yes, I am already thinking about Christmas! Not shopping, but decorating and baking! I've always been an 'extreme' decorator, at Christmas. I used to do a different tree, every year. It was a wonderful challenge to take on; coming up with a new idea each year. I would not 'purchase' an idea, I would create it. It's not like I was spending an exorbitant amount of money. Anyone can purchase decor, there is no creation in that...but to make it yourself...that's where the fun lies!
One year I did a gold fan tree. I purchased cheap gold glass ornaments from Walmart, but I made a series of different sized fans, out of heavy gold wrapping paper. The tree was then trimmed in all white lights...it was simple, but very elegant. Eventually as life became busier, i.e. children, I decided I needed to find a tree decor I could live with for a number of years. I could no longer have a new themed tree each year.
I wanted a tree that felt like 'home'. I didn't want it to be singular in color or design, I wanted it to feel old fashioned. I knew I couldn't do the store bought garland...it feels very cheap to me. Sooo I made, by hand, my own garland. I rummaged for every piece of red, green, and white plaid material I could find and cut 2 inch hearts out of it. The plaid didn't need to match, in fact it was much better if it didn't. I stuffed and hand sewed I don't know how many of these little hearts, then strung them together. I loved that garland, not only was it homemade, but I could tell you where each piece of it's material came from. This tree is so stuffed with everything from tiny birdhouses to reindeer, to quilted Santas, and lights that could rival Chevy Chase's house. The final touch is Baby's Breath spread throughout, and the top is a fountain of cranberry sprigs, with a wonderful heart made out of pine cones. A tree I could live with for a very longtime....
With all this being said, I believe the one thing I've been chasing all those years, and have yet to catch, is the Christmas of my youth. Again, it was moments from my childhood that rekindle those warm feelings; individual ornaments, distinctive days, special gifts, and time in the kitchen with my mom...and the way my dad always bedded the barn down with straw, for the cows, every Christmas Eve. He always told me that at midnight, if you were to walk out to the barns, you would find all the animals facing towards the North star. I never wanted to put his words into question, the idea that an event like that occurred was just too magical to witness, it was just enough to believe! And I know, you can never go back and capture those moments again...but the 'look', of that time, I can recreate.
I've been on a mission, that's what I call it. I think Bill might say it's more like an obsession, possibly true...mission, obsession...they're both 'sion' words, let's not quibble over meanings here..lol I had been thinking a lot about our Christmas Tree. I am in a different house, without my old tree, nor any of my decorations. It's not a bad thing, in fact it's about re-inventing yourself. We get stuck sometimes, just because of what we have invested...or so we think. We stay in jobs we don't like because they are paying us just enough and we have benefits (ooo, ahhh), or a marriage because of the years we've spent together, or a decor because you spent too much money on it to do anything else. Time people, we only have a certain amount of time on this earth...need I say more...refer to the blog before this one!! I do digress...I decided, or should I say I followed the signs, to do a retro tree, looking for the ornaments of my childhood.
It sort of all started when I found these very cool turquoise colored, glass ornaments, at Goodwill. They were .50...how could I say no? Then I hit nirvana...Bill and I followed the signs one day to a garage sale, marketed as "Hoarders Estate Sale"....again how could we say no? Hoarder was putting it mildly, but what great fun to rummage through this amazing stuff! We found books, go figure...that's another story for another day. Bill is very into old textbooks...he's a teacher, need I say more. We found some interesting texts, along with a couple of calendars from the 1960's, with pictures of popular decor of the times. I want to tear these calendars apart, very badly, and put them into frames...I've not convinced Bill that this is a good idea. They are in pristine condition, he hates to see them destroyed...men! lol
So long story short, Bill is paying for his finds of the day (which by the way happened to be a set of leather bound encyclopedias dating back to 1936 ...very cool) when what to my amazement I find a big box that no one has gone through, or priced, and it's full of Christmas stuff. I start digging through this box...I had hit oil! Bill looks at me and sees that I have found something. He walks over, after having unloaded the first round of treasurers, and asks what I had found. I didn't want to say this too loudly, I didn't want someone else edging into my territory. I say, "I found stuff"! He looks at me and shakes his head, grins, and asks, "So how much is this 'stuff' you've found?" I shrug my shoulders, I've no clue, but I didn't grow up around horse traders for nothing. I told him to give me a minute. My objective is to get one low price for this entire box! The people running this shindig have to go into their house and bring out the all knowing soothsayer of pricing...grandma I guess. She tells me she didn't even know they had this box..."Let's see what's in it!" I am thinking noooooo, don't go through this, it's rainy, you're old, you have no business bending over that far to dig in this box, it's just not healthy or wise....AND I DON'T WANT YOU TO SEE THE ANTIQUE ORNAMENTS! Well she digs through the entire box, I remain silent, not wanting to appear too excited. She then stands up and says, how 'bout $25.00 for the lot, and I say DEAL!!! Bill hands her the cash and we are off ....glass ornaments in my lap, doing Show and Tell for Bill, as we drive through the quiet Amish country side...it had been a good day!
Well that's how it all started...Hoarder's Paradise, it's been downhill from that point on...or actually uphill! I've found some great buys on Ebay, and at a wonderful second hand shop in Ligonier, Indiana. I've a growing collection of 'stuff'! Now I doubt I will see this tree in the same wonder as I did as a child...that's child magic, and once you are an adult that magic has passed, but you can remember the feeling! In fact, I was sure some other world lived within my Christmas tree, if only I could shrink down and experience the life that lay beyond those branches...and who knows, perhaps it does if we believe hard enough. What I do know is this...I will look at these ornaments and remember moments...those moments are the real treasures, the gifts we hold onto for a lifetime.
I'm looking forward to finding more of those gifts locked within some old ornament. In the meantime I will keep up the search...in the end, even though this is not a memory of mine, I will probably go looking for one of those old aluminum trees of the 60's, for our 60's room...you know the one with the color wheel. It will be a second tree, we have to have a real one to put gifts under. Bill has to experience his Christmas, in Indiana, with the tradition of going out into the snow, on a horse drawn wagon and cutting your tree...it's pretty Currier and Ives! But life is all about experiences!
And another book before I forget, one that will make you cry, especially if you loved your rocking horse they way I did...."Rocking Horse Christmas" by Mary Pope Osborne! A great book for the holidays!
Think about your childhood Christmas' and what makes your favorite memories so special. Which is better, Christmas Eve or Christmas Day...my daughter and I both agree Christmas Eve, it's all about anticipation for us! Oh, and stop throwing out your Christmas trees the day after Christmas. It's like seeing the death of Christmas all along the roads...just a personal pet peeve!
Enjoy the journey my friends...Halloween is on the shelf, Thanksgiving is that middle child that gets forgotten, and Christmas is already starting to make an appearance...it will be here before you know it!
Yes, I am already thinking about Christmas! Not shopping, but decorating and baking! I've always been an 'extreme' decorator, at Christmas. I used to do a different tree, every year. It was a wonderful challenge to take on; coming up with a new idea each year. I would not 'purchase' an idea, I would create it. It's not like I was spending an exorbitant amount of money. Anyone can purchase decor, there is no creation in that...but to make it yourself...that's where the fun lies!
One year I did a gold fan tree. I purchased cheap gold glass ornaments from Walmart, but I made a series of different sized fans, out of heavy gold wrapping paper. The tree was then trimmed in all white lights...it was simple, but very elegant. Eventually as life became busier, i.e. children, I decided I needed to find a tree decor I could live with for a number of years. I could no longer have a new themed tree each year.
I wanted a tree that felt like 'home'. I didn't want it to be singular in color or design, I wanted it to feel old fashioned. I knew I couldn't do the store bought garland...it feels very cheap to me. Sooo I made, by hand, my own garland. I rummaged for every piece of red, green, and white plaid material I could find and cut 2 inch hearts out of it. The plaid didn't need to match, in fact it was much better if it didn't. I stuffed and hand sewed I don't know how many of these little hearts, then strung them together. I loved that garland, not only was it homemade, but I could tell you where each piece of it's material came from. This tree is so stuffed with everything from tiny birdhouses to reindeer, to quilted Santas, and lights that could rival Chevy Chase's house. The final touch is Baby's Breath spread throughout, and the top is a fountain of cranberry sprigs, with a wonderful heart made out of pine cones. A tree I could live with for a very longtime....
With all this being said, I believe the one thing I've been chasing all those years, and have yet to catch, is the Christmas of my youth. Again, it was moments from my childhood that rekindle those warm feelings; individual ornaments, distinctive days, special gifts, and time in the kitchen with my mom...and the way my dad always bedded the barn down with straw, for the cows, every Christmas Eve. He always told me that at midnight, if you were to walk out to the barns, you would find all the animals facing towards the North star. I never wanted to put his words into question, the idea that an event like that occurred was just too magical to witness, it was just enough to believe! And I know, you can never go back and capture those moments again...but the 'look', of that time, I can recreate.
I've been on a mission, that's what I call it. I think Bill might say it's more like an obsession, possibly true...mission, obsession...they're both 'sion' words, let's not quibble over meanings here..lol I had been thinking a lot about our Christmas Tree. I am in a different house, without my old tree, nor any of my decorations. It's not a bad thing, in fact it's about re-inventing yourself. We get stuck sometimes, just because of what we have invested...or so we think. We stay in jobs we don't like because they are paying us just enough and we have benefits (ooo, ahhh), or a marriage because of the years we've spent together, or a decor because you spent too much money on it to do anything else. Time people, we only have a certain amount of time on this earth...need I say more...refer to the blog before this one!! I do digress...I decided, or should I say I followed the signs, to do a retro tree, looking for the ornaments of my childhood.
It sort of all started when I found these very cool turquoise colored, glass ornaments, at Goodwill. They were .50...how could I say no? Then I hit nirvana...Bill and I followed the signs one day to a garage sale, marketed as "Hoarders Estate Sale"....again how could we say no? Hoarder was putting it mildly, but what great fun to rummage through this amazing stuff! We found books, go figure...that's another story for another day. Bill is very into old textbooks...he's a teacher, need I say more. We found some interesting texts, along with a couple of calendars from the 1960's, with pictures of popular decor of the times. I want to tear these calendars apart, very badly, and put them into frames...I've not convinced Bill that this is a good idea. They are in pristine condition, he hates to see them destroyed...men! lol
So long story short, Bill is paying for his finds of the day (which by the way happened to be a set of leather bound encyclopedias dating back to 1936 ...very cool) when what to my amazement I find a big box that no one has gone through, or priced, and it's full of Christmas stuff. I start digging through this box...I had hit oil! Bill looks at me and sees that I have found something. He walks over, after having unloaded the first round of treasurers, and asks what I had found. I didn't want to say this too loudly, I didn't want someone else edging into my territory. I say, "I found stuff"! He looks at me and shakes his head, grins, and asks, "So how much is this 'stuff' you've found?" I shrug my shoulders, I've no clue, but I didn't grow up around horse traders for nothing. I told him to give me a minute. My objective is to get one low price for this entire box! The people running this shindig have to go into their house and bring out the all knowing soothsayer of pricing...grandma I guess. She tells me she didn't even know they had this box..."Let's see what's in it!" I am thinking noooooo, don't go through this, it's rainy, you're old, you have no business bending over that far to dig in this box, it's just not healthy or wise....AND I DON'T WANT YOU TO SEE THE ANTIQUE ORNAMENTS! Well she digs through the entire box, I remain silent, not wanting to appear too excited. She then stands up and says, how 'bout $25.00 for the lot, and I say DEAL!!! Bill hands her the cash and we are off ....glass ornaments in my lap, doing Show and Tell for Bill, as we drive through the quiet Amish country side...it had been a good day!
Well that's how it all started...Hoarder's Paradise, it's been downhill from that point on...or actually uphill! I've found some great buys on Ebay, and at a wonderful second hand shop in Ligonier, Indiana. I've a growing collection of 'stuff'! Now I doubt I will see this tree in the same wonder as I did as a child...that's child magic, and once you are an adult that magic has passed, but you can remember the feeling! In fact, I was sure some other world lived within my Christmas tree, if only I could shrink down and experience the life that lay beyond those branches...and who knows, perhaps it does if we believe hard enough. What I do know is this...I will look at these ornaments and remember moments...those moments are the real treasures, the gifts we hold onto for a lifetime.
I'm looking forward to finding more of those gifts locked within some old ornament. In the meantime I will keep up the search...in the end, even though this is not a memory of mine, I will probably go looking for one of those old aluminum trees of the 60's, for our 60's room...you know the one with the color wheel. It will be a second tree, we have to have a real one to put gifts under. Bill has to experience his Christmas, in Indiana, with the tradition of going out into the snow, on a horse drawn wagon and cutting your tree...it's pretty Currier and Ives! But life is all about experiences!
And another book before I forget, one that will make you cry, especially if you loved your rocking horse they way I did...."Rocking Horse Christmas" by Mary Pope Osborne! A great book for the holidays!
Think about your childhood Christmas' and what makes your favorite memories so special. Which is better, Christmas Eve or Christmas Day...my daughter and I both agree Christmas Eve, it's all about anticipation for us! Oh, and stop throwing out your Christmas trees the day after Christmas. It's like seeing the death of Christmas all along the roads...just a personal pet peeve!
Enjoy the journey my friends...Halloween is on the shelf, Thanksgiving is that middle child that gets forgotten, and Christmas is already starting to make an appearance...it will be here before you know it!
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