renawomyn

A Celebration of Life

2011-09-29T22:13:00.000-07:00

I have taken time off from posting. During that time I have been contemplating how to write what in my mind a very difficult post. On February 4, 2011 my mother passed from this life into another place. Whether you believe in an afterlife or not, I do. I truly do believe she is now in a better place.

Do I miss her? Of course. My best friend and sounding board are no longer immediately available to me. There were many phone calls and days spent together after I reach adulthood that are a part of my memories. The gift I will always treasure was the gift of her allowing me to be my own person, make my own mistakes, and still love me and be there for me no matter what. As I write this I find the tears welling up again. They are tears for my loss and I realize that. It will take time, but with the gift she gave me, I will come out on the other side even stronger.

In our conversations over the years I came to know this woman who gave life to me. She was opinionated and if necessary would tell you what you needed to know. She always said, "People think I am being blunt, but if they knew what was going on in my mind, they would realize how tactful I really am." I always loved that about her. She may not always have been right, but she would be truthful, without being hurtful.

She loved children and dolls. Over the years I watched her as she took care of children and usually became good friends with the parents. In many ways she was a grandmother to all of them. There was no way I could be jealous, I was proud and honored that she shared her wonderful gift on how to live life with all of them. That I think is a part of her legacy that will live on. A gift to be shared from generation to generation. The ability to do the right thing, be kind and don't give up on the talents you were gifted with. Life may not always be easy, but continue on for it is glorious in its entirety.

I miss her, always will, but the loss will become bearable with time. We all have a finite number of years here. Use them wisely, I know she always tried to.

Thanks Mom.

East of the Great Mountain

2010-12-04T19:40:00.000-08:00

East of the Great Mountain and West of the Sun
Helen’s Colorado Springs 1873

In 1873 Helen Hunt arrived in Colorado Springs. This was ten years after the death of her husband in 1863 followed by her two children in 1854 and 1865 respectively. That arrival and subsequent observations became part and parcel of her essay “Colorado Springs” published in August of 1874 in the New York Independent approximately nine months after her arrival in town.

So what was really happening in this town that she wrote about?

At the time Colorado was still a territory with S. H Elbert as the territorial governor and M.A. Shaffenburg as the United States Marshall.

We know the town had a population of around three thousand. The town was “governed by the following trustees.”: Matt. France, W. H. Macomber, C.T. Barton, A. H. Weir and J. T. Wilson. They even had a town herder by the name of Thomas Hughes.

As Helen says in her essay “it might be said that three years ago the town of Colorado Springs did not exist….that it is also known as “The Fountain Colony””…. Helen felt that The Fountain Colony was a better name for, “ there is not a spring of any sort whatever in the town...” The trustees of the Fountain Colony as she stated in the essay, were “men of means, position, and great executive ability.” (It should be noted the city and the Fountain Colony trustees were separate entities) The Fountain Colony Board consisted of: Gen. Wm. J. Palmer, President, Henry McAlister, Jr., Executive Director, Gerald De Coursey, Secretary, Wm. P. Mellen, Treasurer, M.L. DeCoursey, Assistant Treasurer. The Trustees: Wm. J. Palmer, Dr. Robert H. Lamborn, Col. Josiah C. Reiff, Col. W. H. Greenwood, Wm. P. Mellen and the Chief Engineer, E. S. Nettleton. Furthermore she states these men are, “enthusiasts in their determination to exert their controlling power in the right direction.”

One of those directions was in the “contest of wills” between them and the liquor dealers. This contest appears to have gone on for some time and in 1873 at the time of Helen’s arrival the town was trying yet again to deal with the liquor dealers who continued to sell their wares despite a ban against such actions.

This is the only mention of the growth pangs of the town. She then moves onto a description of the scenery in and around the town. But there was so much more going on in the area.

In August of that year there was discussion and later voting on whether to retain Colorado City as the county seat or move it to Colorado Springs. The results of the voting: Colorado Springs became the new county seat of the county of El Paso, in the territory of Colorado. This change would eventually help fulfill the vision of men like Gen. Palmer and others who were called by Helen, “enthusiasts in their faith in the future of the region.”

The financial crisis of 1873 also touched Colorado Springs. At the end of October of that year the bank of Wm. B Young & Co. had to suspend operations due to the drains on the deposits of the bank. This was the result of the financial panic in part caused by the failure of Henry Crews and Company of New York. At the same time the “El Paso County Bank” was opened. The men who formed this banking house were: W. S. Jackson, who was the Secretary/Treasurer of the Denver & Rio Grande Railway as well as Mr. Wolfe, Mr. White and Mr. Goodrich. (This is the same W. S. Jackson that became Helen’s second husband.)

Colorado Springs and the Pikes Peak region received a boost with the Signal Corps deciding to place a signal station on the top of Pikes Peak. The local paper would print the readings that were taken at the top of the mountain. The Colorado Springs Company also purchased from a Mr. Nat Colby the entrance to Cheyenne Canyon, so that “the enjoyment of its beauties may be assured to visitors for all time.”

Although not mentioned directly in the Colorado Springs essay Helen would speak at length about Cheyenne Canyon.

One of the last events that happened that year was the death of Judge Baldwin. His death on November 3 created a mystery that is still unsolved to this day. (His body was found in a well and the circumstances were not conclusive as to whether it was foul play or accident.) This may have occurred just before or around the time Helen arrived in Colorado Springs.

Regardless of the events, both positive and negative, as Helen stated in her essay “for those alone whom I might possibly win to love Colorado Springs as I love it, I repeat that it is a town lying east of the Great Mountain and west of the sun." Helen continued to experience and love this city at the foot of Pikes Peak as a place of both beauty and growth for the remainder of her life.

copyright November 2010 by Doris A. McCraw all rights reserved.

Humor and Laughter

2010-06-24T20:12:00.001-07:00

A 'plastic' corpse.

The say laughter is the best medicine. I love the following quote about laughter. "We are in the world to laugh. In purgatory or in hell we shall no longer be able to do so. And in heaven in would not be proper." Jules Renard, Journal, June 1907.

So what is humor and why does it not always lead to laughter. Many of us feel that if we are laughing then people will look at us and wonder why we are laughing. There seems to be a moratorium on laughing out loud in public. If you are in a comedy club, fine. If you are in the coffee shop or heaven forbid a store, is seems that is not an appropriate place. So instead of giving a good belly laugh, we subjugate our laughter and say, that was humorous. I say hogwash.

To me laughter is something to be shared. In case you haven't noticed laughter can be very contagious. Maybe that is why people are afraid of laughing in public places, they might start something.

I remember going to a show that was very, very funny. I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stop laughing. Now most people were laughing with me and enjoying themselves. There was one lady who just kept giving me dirty looks and telling me to be quite. Talk about purgatory, I believe she was already there. Not because of my laughter or that of the audience, but because she was above humor and laughter. How very sad.

I know my male friends love the Three Stooges. For me, if I am blue I put on a Marx Brothers or Abbott and Costello movie and all is right with the world.

If there is one thing I have learned in life, laugh. It is good for you and really for those around you. Laughter is contagious. Pass on the contagion and laugh out loud. Soon the world will laugh with you. Remember, we are in the world to laugh!

Following your Heart

2010-05-19T21:03:00.000-07:00

With a title like Following you Heart you might think this post is about finding love. In a way it is, but not as most would think. To me following you heart is finding what makes your mind, body and soul quiver with joy. It may be someone or something to love. For me it is creation. I love creating stories, be they fiction or non-fiction, performing in front of an audience and have them respond to my words, singing and bringing emotion to my listeners.

In life I have had the blessing of being able to follow my heart and still succeed at making a living.

I was able to study with the voice teacher I wanted, even though she was not taking on new students.

I went to the private college of my choice, even though the financial expense was steep.

I spent twenty years working in a field that I had chosen at the age of fifteen, and retired at an age that allowed me to continue with my other passions.

I have met and become friends with people who not only support me with their friendships, but also their encouragement in continuing to follow my passions.

I have decided for me the only way to live is follow my heart and know that in the end I will find that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

If you decide to go on this journey remember to keep moving and if the road swerves, follow the swerve, it will only be a learning spot along the way.

Honoring A Mother

2010-05-08T19:42:00.000-07:00

One of my mothers favorite flowers. I think of her every time I see one.

In honor of Mothers Day, this post will be about my own mother. In some ways this post is harder to write than most. I imagine it is because as most of you know, the relationship you have with your parents can be a bit difficult, sweet, convoluted and just plain scary sometimes.

Let me say from the outset I admire my mother. In many ways she was way ahead of the curve in her parenting skills. Still, don't think that there were not moments of tension and anger. There usually is when you are young and trying to stretch your wings, and mom is trying to make sure you don't fall too soon, that your wings are ready to hold you on the currents.

Probably what I remember most are the little events that ended up impacting my life in huge ways.

1. My mother had a way of treating both my brother and myself as only children. I don't know how she did it, but I never felt slighted in the least little bit. Of course......there is always enough love to give to everyone.

2. One time when I was complaining about something my younger brother had done my mother calmly told me to take care of it. I had spoiled him and it was my responsibility to handle what I had created. Yes...a great way to learn responsibility.

3. When I was preparing to leave for college I was trying to let my mother know I loved her and my father, but it was time to leave. She very graciously said,"If you didn't want to leave I would think something was wrong with you. Why do you think I raised you the way I did." Now that is a wonderful way to say...your wings are ready, go fly with my blessing.

There are probably many other stories and lessons that I could relate. Instead I will close with probably one of the greatest blessings a mother can give her child. The gift of friendship, an equal footing once you have grown. I don't know how she does it, but while still being my mother, she is also my equal. For that and so many other gifts I wish Mom, HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

Poets - Helen Hunt Jackson

2010-04-25T18:14:00.000-07:00

This final week of April and National Poetry month I want to write about Helen Hunt Jackson and not only how she, but also her poetry have made an impression on my life.

As most of you know, I perform as Mrs. Jackson. This woman, her work and personality have become a passion of mine. What most remember about Helen and her work are the last five years of her life and the dedication she gave to her cause of Indian rights. In the years prior to that time she made her living after the death of both her husband and two sons as a writer of poetry and essays. It is her poetry I want to share with you the reader.

A number of her earlier poems were infused with the grief she was feeling over the death of her last remaining son who passed away at the age of nine. (She had lost her first son at the age of eleven months and her husband to an accident while he was working on an underwater project for the Army during the Civil War) Her work grew from that point and to many people she was one of the premier poets of her time.

In the the book Poems by Helen Jackson, Little Brown and Co copywrite 1906, the following verse is indicative of some of her work.

October

Bending above the spicy woods which blaze,
Arch skies so blue they flash, and hold the sun
Immeasurably far; the waters run
Too slow, so freighted are the river-ways
With gold of elms and birches from the maze
Of forests. Chestnuts, clicking one by one,
Escape from satin burs; her fringes done,
The gentian spreads them out in sunny days,
And, like late revellers at dawn, the chance
Of one sweet, mad, last hour, all things assail,
And conquering, flush and spin; while, to enhance
The spell, by sunset door, wrapped in a veil
Of red and purple mists, the summer, pale,
Steals back alone for one more song and dance.

As you read these words the picture becomes clear in your mind. You can hear the sounds of fall and glory in the wonderful use of language. I enjoy not only reading her works to myself, but sharing, reading aloud so that others can hear the music also.

Many people cite her poem Cheyenne Mountain as one that holds the key to her thoughts of the area around Colorado Springs. This is true, but by far the one that I think describes Helen herself is her poem Last Words.

Last Words

Dear hearts, whose love has been so sweet to know,
That I am looking backward as I go,
Am lingering while I haste, and in this rain
Of tears of joy am mingling tears of pain;
Do not adorn with costly shrub, or tree,
Or flower, the little grave which shelters me.
Let the wild wind-sown seeds grow up unharmed,
And back and forth all summer, unalarmed,
Let all the tiny, busy creatures creep;
Let the sweet grass its last year's tangles keep;
And when, remembering me, you come some day
And stand there, speak no praise, but only say,
"How she loved us! 'Twas that which made her dear!"
Those are the words that I shall joy to hear.

I consider Helen a classic poet, but it does not change the depth and joy of her words for today's readers. As the above works show, the skill with which she 'painted' her thoughts is truly amazing. Yes, I am partial to this woman and her work, but I would encourage everyone to take a step back in time and see what so many of her generation knew, Helen Hunt Jackson was a woman of considerable talent that continues to inspire people today.

Poets- KL Bates

2010-04-17T19:52:00.000-07:00

This week I am taking a trip down memory lane with Katherine Lee Bates. About eight years ago I had the privilege of performing as Katherine in an original piece called "Scandal and Scones". This was part script and mostly improvisation. In order to speak as the character it was necessary for me to study the life of Katherine Lee Bates.

We all know she wrote the poem "America the Beautiful", that is the poem not the song. The song/tune is a hymn written by a gentleman named Ward called "Materna". What I found was a poet who kept a journal and started writing poems at an early age. One of her first was called "Romance of Count Hymbo". It begins with the lines:

Count Hymbo was a gallint knight
Of honor and renown
None braver was there in the fight,
Pride of his native town.

It ended with the lines:

From his couch up started that night,
His handsome face was deathly white,
The figure vanished from his sight,
And Count Hymbo died of fright.

She signed it Katie L. Bates

An interesting piece from a young girl. Her later years saw so many varied and interesting works. A few of my favorites are:

Pigeon Post

White wing, White wing,
Lily of the air,
What word dost bring,
On whose errand fare?
Red word, Red word,
snowy plumes abhor.
I, Christ's own bird,
Do the work of war.

and the second

If You Could Come

My love, my love, if you could come once more
From your high place,
I would not question you for heavenly lore,
But, silent, take the comfort of your face.

I would not ask you if those golden spheres
In love rejoice,
If only our stained star hath sin and tears,
But fill my famished hearing with your voice.

One touch of you were worth a thousand creeds.
My wound is numb
Through toil-pressed, but all night long it bleeds
In aching dreams, and still you cannot come.

As you can see there is so much more to this poetess/writer than one poem indicates. Although 'America the Beautiful' is such an iconic work, Katherine Lee Bates other works deserve a second and third look. I am so glad to have been put into the position of learning more, it has opened up worlds and words I might never have experienced.

April, National Poetry Month-Masters

2010-04-11T19:06:00.000-07:00

April is National Poetry month. This month I decided to spend some time with some of the poets and poetry that had an effect on my life. In this posting I will be revisiting Edgar Lee Masters and his Spoon River Anthology.

I became acquainted with Masters in high school. His free form verse about the people in Spoon River reached a responsive cord in me. In some ways those stories were like reading about the small towns I grew up around.

The three people whose stories I responded to as a teen were:Dorcas Gustine, Mable Osborne and Lucinda Matlock. Each one reacted to life in such a unique way, and though each is very different, even time has not dimmed my love of their stories.

Dorcas: Her story began with the following line:
I was not beloved of the villagers,
But all because I spoke my mind,

and ended with:
The tongue may be an unruly member—
But silence poisons the soul.
Berate me who will—I am content.

In between with just a few lines is a woman who lived life on her own terms regardless of the consequences.

Mable: Her story is completely different, yet just as powerful
She starts:
Your red blossoms amid green leaves
Are drooping, beautiful geranium!
But you do not ask for water.
You cannot speak!

She ends:
Voiceless from chasteness of soul to ask you for love,
You who knew and saw me perish before you,
Like this geranium which someone has planted over me,
And left to die.

A woman who wanted so much, but failed to receive it.

Finally there is Lucinda Matlock, based on Masters own mother. Her final lines say it all:
At ninety—six I had lived enough, that is all,
And passed to a sweet repose.
What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness,
Anger, discontent and drooping hopes?
Degenerate sons and daughters,
Life is too strong for you—
It takes life to love Life.

I hope you have a chance to revisit some of the works that you enjoyed during your lifetime. Perhaps some of what I have shared will hit a responsive cord with you and send you on a search for those lines that spoke to you.

Happy reading until next time.

Part Two of the Helen Hunt Jackson 'Interview'

2010-03-31T20:18:00.000-07:00

First I want to thank Mrs. Jackson for joining us again today. I would like to spend some time with questions about your work for the Indians in the late 1870's and early 1880's.

In your article 'Oldest House' you mention the fate of the people who lived in the area prior to the Spanish residence in Santa Fe.

When Coronado explored Mexico in 1540, he found many Indian pueblos on the Rio Grande River, and speaks of several which must have been near the present location of Santa Fe. The one which it is generally supposed was on its precise site at the time stretched along its river-banks for six miles. Colorado reported that he found here a beautiful and fertile valley, under high cultivation by the Indians. It is hard to realize...that a race which, over three hundred years ago, had reached comfort and success in agriculture and pastoral occupations, should be today an abject, supine, wretched race...is a melancholy comment on the injustices they have received.

Those are pretty harsh words. It is obvious you have strong feelings about the issue.

The book, Century of Dishonor, as its title indicates,..gives a sketch of the United States Government's dealings with some of the..tribes.

Right sentiment and purpose in a senator..representative here and there, are little more than straws which make momentary eddies, but do not obstruct the tide.

a..states representative argued in Congress that is is very hard if the government will not for..advantage, break a few treaties when it has broken so many for the advantage of other states....what a logic of infamy...because we have had one century of dishonor, must we have two?

Do you think anything can be done for about this issue?

The only thing that can stay this is a mighty outspoken sentiment and purpose of the great body of the people. ....for the American people,as a people, are not at heart unjust. If there be one thing which they believe in more than any other,...it is fair play. As soon as they understand....they will rise up and demand it...

Thank you so much for taking the time to share some of your thoughts and words with us.

(It should be noted that these 'interviews' contained words used by Mrs. Jackson. Also prior to the publication of Century of Dishonor and Ramona, Helen did not use her real name. Century was the first to carry the name Helen Jackson. The use of Helen Hunt Jackson did not appear until after her death in 1885.)

I hope you enjoyed a bit of insight into the interesting, complex and fearless woman. She seemed to always state her opinion, regardless of what others may have thought. She is a woman to be remembered.

'Interview' with Helen Hunt Jackson

2010-03-25T20:49:00.000-07:00

For fun this week I thought it might be fun to 'interview' Helen Hunt Jackson using her own words. I hope you enjoy. The photo is from my recent performance at the Pikes Peak Library District as Helen Hunt Jackson

As you were traveling to the west you made some unique observations. Would you share some of those thoughts?

Prairie, unfenced, undivided, unmeasured, unmarked, save by the different tints of different growths of grass or grain; great droves of cattle grazing here and there; acres of willow saplings, pale yellowish green; and solitary trees, which look like hermits in a wilderness. These, and now and then a shapeless village, which looks even lonelier than the empty loneliness by which it is surrounded, - these are all for hours and hours. We think, “now we are getting out into the great spaces.” “This is what the word ‘West’ has sounded like.”

You seem to like the lower elevations as opposed to the high peaks. Why do you think that?

I think that true delight, true realization, of the gracious, tender, unutterable beauty of the earth and all created things are to be found in outlooks from lower points—vistas which shut more than they show, sweet and unexpected revealings in level places and valley, secrets of near woods, and glories of every-day paths.

You are quoted as saying there are nine places of worship in Colorado Springs. What are the?

There are nine “places of divine worship” in Colorado Springs, -- the Presbyterian, the Cumberland Presbyterian, the Methodist, the South Methodist, the Episcopal, the Congregationalist, the Baptist, the Unitarian, and Cheyenne Canyon.

What do you do when the snow covers the ground?

... winter..... memory and fancy will have their way; and, as we sit cowering over fires, and the snow piles up outside our window sills, we shall gaze dreamily into the glowing coals, and, living the summer over again, shall recall it in a minuteness of joy, for summer days were too short and summer light too strong. Then, when joy becomes reverie, and reverie takes shape, a truer record can be written....

Thank you Mrs. Jackson. I hope you will join me again later to share more of your insights.

Varina Davis

2010-03-18T21:40:00.000-07:00

Varina Howell was 17 when she met Jefferson Davis, 18 years her senior. Then married when she was 19 and within a short time, Varina found herself in Washington DC as the wife of a politician.
This was a huge step for a young southern lady born and basically educated at home, much like other women of her time. Born May 7, 1826, Varina was a bright, outgoing and charming woman. Still, for a woman at that time, options were limited. According to writings and letters, Varina tried to be the good wife the Jefferson expected her to be. Her first trip to DC was a trial, but by the second trip she had found her step. In some ways she may have understoon politics better than her husband.
Varina has the distinction of being the only first lady of the Confederacy. To some she was a saint and others a vile creature. Does that sound familiar? Some would say the same thing about Mary Lincoln.
As I have studied this woman and her times I come away with a person who did her best in what we now know were very trying situations. After the war, she feared for the safety of her children in Georgia, to the point she sent them to Canada to live with her mother. She petitioned tirelessly for the release of her husband from his prison. A remarkable and yet perhaps misunderstood woman. The pictures above are of the home she and Jefferson retired to in 1879. A picture of another time and era. As you can see in the second photograph the home suffered damage during Katrina and has been slowly restored as seen in the first photograph.

I want to thank my friend Ken Oyer for his willingness to visit Bouvier and share these recent photos.

Katherine McNeal Lamont

2010-03-06T21:49:00.000-08:00

In honor of National Womens' History month I will be highlighting women in the Colorado Springs, El Paso County area of Colorado.

Todays focus is Katherine McNeal Lamont. There is not much known about her. Accourding to her obituary she was born August 2, 1871 in Rock Island, Illinois and moved to Denver where she married a Scotsman named Duncan Lamont on October 3, 1901.

From Denver they moved to Colorado City where Mr. Lamont became the pastor of the First Baptist Church at 1 S. 24th ST.

Her obituary says she was active in the church and social groups. When you study the city directories you see that most of her married life was spent in Colorado City (later a part of Colorado Springs) except for about two years spent in Victor Colorado. Still even in Colorado City the Lamonts moved no fewer than three times.

What is found in the local papers is a woman who seemed to do her best as the wife of a pastor and later postmaster. She took part in church events, even to the point of singing a duet with another woman. It appears she was a member of the WTCU while her husband was preaching against the sins of alcohol.

The more I try to find out about this woman the more questions I run into. Why did she wait until thirty years of age to marry? Was she instrumental in her husband moving into politics? What was her early life in Illinois and Colorado like? Perhaps some day these questions will be answered. In the meanwhile, Katherine Lamont is one of the women from the early days of Colorado who walked the land, but has been overlooked. Even the large headstone is shared with her husband, then two identical smaller ones on each side.

Interview with Mike Stevens

2010-02-23T19:31:00.000-08:00

Although I have not posted for awhile, I wanted to share with you my questions with Mike Stevens. Mike is a poet whose work I enjoy. In addition Mike also writes some of the Red Herring Production scripts, is a history/western enthusiast and is one terrific whip handler (if that is what you call someone who is really good with the whip) Hope you share my enthusiasm.

"A little snow means big snow," as the old ones used to say,
And from the sky some tiny flakes come drifting down our way

So begins one of my favorite poems of Mike's "Little Snow"

Why did you chose to write poetry?

I think we write to be heard. There is so much noise in the world now that nobody pays attention to us. Go to a business meeting and try to inject the right answer: they’ll ignore you for an hour, and by then it’ll be somebody else’s idea. Or try to tell your kids something important: they’re so drowned in music, media, and texting that they’ll just roll their eyes at you.

But if you’ve got some talent and are willing to put a lot of effort into crafting your message, you can create a work that, at least for a moment, people will notice. It may be right or wrong, meaningful or silly, good or evil; but at least they’ll listen to it. And that’s poetry – or rap music, or a screenplay, or a novel, or ad copy, or whatever you’re good at.

What genre do you consider your poetry to be?

I write Cowboy Poetry. There is some really good Cowboy Poetry out there, and a lot of really bad. I’m somewhere in the middle.

Do you have anything published and if so where can a person find your work?

I have 5 poems published on the Cowboy Poetry Website. Try:

http://www.cowboypoetry.com/mikestevens.htm

You also are one of the owners of Red Herring Productions, does that type of entertainment influence your writing?

I’m afraid so. It means I’m very focused on the entertainment aspect: on getting up in front of people and reciting poetry and creating a relationship with the audience that we both enjoy. I’ve read some disparaging remarks from cowboy poets about folks who are nothing but performers. I try not to be one of those. I may be a ham, but I do write my own material and I try to make an honest job of it.

Anything else that someone should know about you?

Yes. Please ask me if I “really” know how to crack that bullwhip I’m carrying. I’d love to show you, your wife, your girlfriend, or your kids how the “wrap around” trick works.

Accepting the Gifts

2009-12-23T15:21:00.001-08:00

We all have gotten gifts we really didn't want or appreciate. Still we tried to accept them graciously. How many of us have gifts that we don't use or appreciate? Not just those that were given to us by others, but those gifts that make us special.

Recently I had this point driven home. A friend and I attended the Glen Eyrie Christmas. The setting was the great hall. As I sat there in my minds eye I could see ladies from the turn of the century in their gowns dancing or listening to music such as I was. There event was a small ensemble orchestra and soloist along with a choral of high school singers. The music was wonderful, covering early to current compositions. The whole event was just an hour. That hour was the gift given to me. What surprised me was the realization that I had not been using the personal gift I had.

Toward the end of the program there was a sing along. I love to sing, but very rarely do, so I took advantage and sang along. When the program was finished and my friend and I were getting ready to leave the lady in front turned and said, "I just enjoyed listening to you sing." WOW, talk about a wake up call. I realized I hadn't been using one of the gifts I had. By following my passion and singing I in turn gave a gift to a complete stranger.

So many times we focus on the future, the next this or that, that we forget to take stock of what we have to give. We have more than one talent, but tend to focus on only one to the exclusion of all others. By keeping our many gifts to ourselves, we not only short change ourselves, we also short change others who may receive much from what we have.

What are your talents? Are you the compassionate person that others come to? Perhaps you are the one who has a gift of understanding numbers. Are you the one with the gift of gab or storytelling? Talents and gifts are as varied and numerous as the sands on a beach. The joy is finding the special ones that belong to you.

As the new year approaches perhaps it is time to retake stock of all of our gifts. To accept and then share. It doesn't cost anything and the joy of accepting the gifts is priceless.

Pursuing a Dream

2009-11-14T01:37:00.000-08:00

As I write this it is 2:36 in the am. I find I am not ready for sleep. This happens many times after a show. The adrenaline is rushing and it takes while to get rid of the excess. And before you say anything, I could just not do shows, that defeats the purpose of moving in the direction of my dreams. You see I believe that to pursue a dream you must move in a direction that is compatible with where you want to go.

While you are on that path, you will hear many who will tell you it is a pipe dream, you cannot possibly achieve that. You will also have those who will tell you anything is possible. It is up to you to take what is best of both and move onward.

Many of my acting students say they want to go to New York or LA. I encourage them to try. Some will succeed, some will not. It is not about fame or fortune. It is about finding the peace that comes from trying. One went out to LA, then came home. The reason, the town was too big, they were a small town person. That is not failure. That is success. You see, if they had not tried then the rest of their lives the question would have been 'what if?'. Now they know. Others have gone on and stayed. They are doing what they love.

If someone tells you that your dream is ridiculous, don't listen. Follow you heart and your desire. The only failure in pursuing a dream is not pursuing your dream. If you continue on in the direction you want to go, stop to listen for course changes and then trust, you will be on your way and probably very happy in the end.

Beating ourselves up

2009-09-20T19:55:00.000-07:00

This morning while getting ready for work, I was listening to Sunday Morning. They had a segment on E.L. Doctorow. The content was wonderful, but what caught my ear was Mr. Doctorow saying he was lucky if he wrote five hundred words a day. I literally stopped what I was doing to ponder that statement.

So many of us beat ourselves up because we don't accomplish everything on our to-do list. Those of us who are writers, well we know what we do.

This statement came on the heels of another idea that we need to slow down. We have the slow-food movement. People are talking about acquired attention deficit disorder. Yet so many of us think if we don't get this done today it will never get done.

I would say, it will not get done unless we allow ourselves to slow down, take a deep breath and stop beating ourselves over the head and shoulders for not being perfect. If Mr. Doctorow can write five hundred words a day and accomplish what he has in a lifetime (just stop to look at all the accolades that have come his way) then I believe we can also do quality work if we allow ourselves the time do to so.

There is nothing wrong with having a to do list, or goals. What is wrong is running our lives on overdrive to accomplish everything. I know there are those of you who would say I was guilty of doing the very thing I would say not do to. Yes, I have a number of interest and ideas that I pursue. What I do, however, to accomplish all I do is to allow myself time to think about what I want and then work a lot out in my head. When I feel it is time, I go ahead and jump in.
You see, many years ago I was given the gift of being told I could do anything I want. The next gift was the idea that if I just spent two hours, no more, on any project I would be able to complete so much more over a lifetime. That is my secret to doing all I do and still having time to sleep, read, and write along with living the rest of my life.

So let's slow down, give ourselves time and do quality work instead of quantity work. Enjoy the time we have and cherish it, love ourselves more and beat up on ourselves less. Now that is an idea whose time I know has come.

Through the fish-eye lens

2009-08-27T10:20:00.000-07:00

The fish-eye lens of a camera can create a wonderful image. The center of the image is highlighted and all other objects begin to fall away from the center to eventually fade away. It is an interesting way to look at the world.

When we look at what we remember, it is always from our perspective. That is not a bad thing. We cannot stop what is unique about us. The key is to look beyond what the memory sees. If you were to move the lens just a small direction either way then whole picture would change. All of a sudden the items in the faded portion of the picture start to come into focus.

When we start to research our personal past, a subject that interest us, or just get background for a creative project, we start with the fish-eye focus. The joy comes when we start to maneuver the lens and start to see all the wonderful pieces we may have missed. Being open to the possibilities can be so wonderfully overwhelming. We soon learn that all the things we had not noticed were in fact that which helped to create what we see.

Like to photo above. The flowers in the center stand out, but they are enhanced by everything else that is surrounding them. Sometimes we have to be overwhelmed by shear numbers and facts to create the vision we wish to present. Only then is the focus that we create supported by all that is not seen. It has as we say 'legs'. There is a foundation that sustains the main picture so that as others look on they can move the focus for themselves and see so much more, but they start with the vision or picture we present. Now that is exciting!

What do I believe?

2009-07-27T18:00:00.001-07:00

The above is an intriguing questions. What do any of us believe? As a writer, actor and teacher I am exposed to many differing beliefs. There is the belief in self, belief in ones abilities and belief in something outside out oneself. There is also the perceived belief of others.

For myself, I believe that anything is possible. It may not be in my lifetime, but things do happen if there is a great enough belief.

When we decide to make a change in our lives, we must believe that the change is possible. If there were not some kernel of belief we would probably not attempt the proposed change. I also believe that I am sometimes too serious. Is that a bad thing? Probably not, but people might think that I don't laugh or have a good time. Perhaps I don't find the current humor all that funny.

So what do I think is funny? Not humor at the expense of another. To me practical jokes are just a way of making people feel bad and another think they are better. Humor that is a play on words, that is funny. Physical humor can be funny.

I do believe that the human spirit is a special thing. It is to be cherished and supported. There are many communities that can help. Each person can help. Not do it for anyone, but to give the individual the courage to try on their own until they succeed. Many people mistake the idea of helping as giving advise and answers. Advise is worth what we pay for it. If someone ask your advise, know that it is just a suggestion that you think may work for them, but don't get so attached to your ideas that you get hurt if they are not followed.

I believe that each persons pain is just as horrible to them as the next persons. One persons headache to them is just as important as the person who has a broken leg. We try to put a value on each person that makes them more or less than someone else. When we go to judge, we are really judging by our criteria, not theirs.

I believe that we all have possibilities and each and everyone of us have the potential to make a difference in someones life. We just have to be willing to try.

What will we leave?

2009-07-11T20:14:00.000-07:00

I truly believe we are all creative in some way. Whether we are writers, bakers or candlestick makers we all have something to contribute to life. The trick is, who do we affect and what are we leaving behind.

As historians we are looking at newspapers, diaries, letters, any first hand information we can find. Writers use that same information to ask 'what if'. For me there is nothing so exciting as to hold a piece of paper that someone a hundred years ago also handled. Perhaps they were writing a letter. Maybe they were just jotting down the grocery list. It is a tangible reminder of their lives. When I hold a quilt made by my great-grand mother, I remember her and my great-grandfather. Their faces become familiar again. The stories they told and lessons they taught are remembered. As long as I live so will their lives be remembered. When I am gone, what will be left? Sure someone could read this blog and perhaps it will trigger a memory of their own, but not Ertie and Oliver.

Perhaps in the future, there will be no paper. Good for the trees, perhaps not so good for those who follow. Cyber space is great, we all use it and they benefits are amazing. Still, where are the letters we no longer write? Where would we be if the founding mother and fathers had not written those wonderful letters? Will we be leaving anything? How will we be remembered a 100 years from now? What will be our legacy?

When you write that book, crochet that shawl or create that new banana bread recipe, perhaps it would be wise to also note why you created what you did. Leave a message for the future. It may make a difference in someones view of who we were.

Observation, Opinion and a Leap of Faith

2009-07-01T21:54:00.001-07:00

We all have opinions. Even when we try not to we do. As an actor/writer and some say historian I work to make peace with the various aspects of the crafts. Why? Because in my opinion they don't always work together. When they do it is great, but many times it just doesn't happen. I shall use a couple of current projects to illustrate.

I will soon portray a woman who was on the board of directors of a half-way house here in Colorado Springs in the 20's. Not a lot is known. As the actor I will take what I can find, use that as the basis for my character development. Then I will make use of my opinions of what she might have said and why she said it. My leap of faith occurs when I make my choices about what I will actually say when speaking and answering questions. The historian takes the facts and make assumptions for the actor based on the available information. The actor then takes what is observed from the facts, makes opinions based on those facts and uses that to create the person that no longer exists, but needs to be as accurate as possible.

The second example is a fictional novel based on an event from the 1870's. There the information about the event is clearly stated in newspapers and others sources. As the author I take the information and create a world based on the events. I observe how people may have spoken, what they wore, how they acted. I then create an opinion about what I think may have occurred with the secondary characters in the event. My leap of faith is that I am creating a real world that may have happened, it simply was not recorded.

As writers, performers and historians, whatever label we place on ourselves we always observe, have an opinion and take a leap of faith that what we are doing is right. For the actor and the fiction writer it is easier. For the historian and non-fiction writer our opinions and leaps of faith take on a more important meaning. If we err to far from the truth we call into question our ability to perform our jobs. Still I would not follow this path if I did not feel that I have something to share with the world. The need to bring the lives of those who have preceded me and left their mark is more important than fear of making a mistake. If I can get one person to questions or feel the need to find out more, I have done my job.

If you wish to leave a comment, for those new to this means of communication, just click on comment and follow the prompts. For additional reading click on the second edit me to read additional bloggers.

Two Historic Buildings

2009-06-23T20:24:00.000-07:00

Over the past couple of weeks I have had the pleasure of performing in some amazing historic buildings, The Briarhurst Manor and the Phantom Canyon Brewing Company.

On June 13 Red Herrring performed one of their public shows at the Briarhurst Manor in Manitou Springs. It was the premier of a rewrite of one of our westerns. We had a night where the stars aligned and all was well with the world. The audience was wonderful and the actors were hitting all the right notes in their performances.

As I walked through the various rooms, I could feel the sense of what it might have been like for the Bells' whose home this had been. The house is elegant and the current owners have done what they could to preserve the ambiance of the golden age of expansion that was Manitou and Colorado Springs. Although our story took place in Texas, the time periods were very similar. What a joy to not only have fun with a show, but to eat and wander the halls of history.

That was followed by a show on June 22 at the Phantom Canyon Brewing Company located in Colorado Springs. This building at Pikes Peak and Cascade Avenues is very close to the depot for the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. It is my understanding that this building used to house the rail workers. The third floor, were we were again performing a western, used to be divided up into numerous small rooms for the workers. I am sure that their work was strenuous, but looking out the windows, the view of the mountains is spectacular. Perhaps they also were able to enjoy those brief moments of contemplation.

To have a job where I can not only honor my desire for performing and history is a gift I am truly grateful for. To walk where others have walked and to try to place myself into their world. Over the past two shows I went from high society to common worker, all by being in the space that they had occupied. It makes you want to dig even deeper and find out more.

Books/Stories/Plays: A trip worth remembering pt 3

2009-06-15T17:59:00.000-07:00

This is the final part of my trip down memory lane and the books, stories and plays that have had a affect on my life.

When I went away to college I took my love of reading with me. That is not to say I truly enjoyed reading text books, I didn't. In fact as long as I attended class and the professor tested on what he/she spoke about I didn't have to study. I usually remembered what was said. Still I continued reading for pleasure. The one book that stands out from that time is Mario Puzzo's 'The Godfather'. I had started it on a Friday night, woke the next morning and continued reading until finished. That means I missed all meals except dinner. Hey, it was Saturday steak night and I was hungry. Actually, if I had not finished in time for dinner I would not have cared. The story had me so engrossed.

The other book that made an impact on me was 'Siddhartha' by Herman Hesse. I read that rather quickly over Thanksgiving break. The book actually allowed me to see a different view of the world, or conceptualized the new thinking I was experiencing in college.

When I moved to Colorado the west did not fascinate me. In fact, I had not even planned to live here. I came because Illinois had nothing for me , so I came west with some friends. They have all gone, but I am still here.I fell in love with the area. Probably the two books that started my desire for studying history and the west were Gwen Bristows 'Calico Palace' and Louis L'Amour's 'The Quick and the Dead'. Those are the first Westerns I remember reading. I don't consider a child's version of 'Have Gun Will Travel' to really count.

I picked up 'Calico Palace' from the library because I liked the cover. Once I started reading I could see the characters, their loves and life choices. The other book,'The Quick and the Dead', was lying around when I was working the graveyard shift at a psychiatric hospital. I read that in about 3 hours between checks and have continued reading fiction about the west since.

The final 'nail' in the foundation of my desire to tell the history of the west through fiction was writing and performing a one-woman show based on the stories of my family and the stories of Colorado Springs. From that point on, history and storytelling were indelibly linked.

From a love of stories and reading to a life of sharing that love and history. I guess all that I have read, even those I don't remember have made me the person I have become today. What a gift those authors and their works have given me.

To read more about history click the second 'edit me' on the side bar to read Joyce Lohse's interesting blogs.

Books/Stories/Plays: A trip worth remembering pt 2

2009-06-06T19:35:00.000-07:00

As I stated in the last post, I am taking a trip back to the works that have made a difference in my life. As I remember, when I moved from the three room school to a larger one, (grades 1-8), my reading took a turn. I moved to books by Phyllis Whitney and Mary Stewart, I love "The Moon Spinners". One of the librarians in Carthage, Illinois , where the library was located, did not want to let me check those books out. She said they were for adults. I argued with her and when she wasn't looking checked them out with another librarian. I did not see that there was any issue. The words were there and I chose to read them.

In high school I made the switch to plays. I became enamoured with reading any and all I could find. I would check out the 'best of' plays for each year. That is where I read "Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Momma's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' so Sad". Big title, but an interesting read. I did not like "Romeo and Juliet", but loved "MacBeth". I would say however the work that seemed to make the most lasting impression was the one act play "The Valiant". The line.."a coward dies many times before his death, but the valiant dies but once." has stayed with me for ever so long. In some ways I would say that line and one from a television show got me through all the 'tough' teen years. To paraphrase the TV line it was, ' there are four groups of people who react to you in life. The ones who like you for who the right reasons, the ones who hate you for the wrong reasons, the ones who like you for the wrong reasons and the ones who hate you for the right reasons. Of all these the one you need to worry about are the ones who hate you for the right reasons.'

Coming from a smaller school and not being one to 'follow' the crowd, it was sometimes tough. Still looking back, the books and plays I read allowed me to be myself and make the transition from high school to college without much stress. In many ways because of my reading I was a bit more mature than most of my contemporaries. In a small town that is not a bad thing. It also instilled in me the power of thoughts that words inspire. That was probably the greatest gift I received for those growing years.

Join me next time for college and beyond.

Books/Stories/Plays: A trip worth remembering pt 1

2009-05-27T21:06:00.000-07:00

After such a long title, how should I start? As I was reading the "O" magazine I ran across the part where well known people talk about what is on their bookshelves. I found the concept fascinating. Then I got to thinking about how various works had left impressions over the years. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wanted to take a trip down memory lane. In this, the first in a series of the works that had an impression on me, I intend to look at the early years of my life.

According to the stories my mother tells, even as a very small child I demanded to be read to. That may be the reason that my primary way of learning is auditory. She says by the age of three I could recite most of stories in the "Childcraft" books, to the point where I was turning the pages at the appropriate point. By the time I started school I was more than ready to read. Fate however stepped in and I spent most of my first year of school, sick at home or in the hospital. The school was a three room schoolhouse and the early grades had three grades per room. The teacher passed me that year and I joined my classmates in second grade and caught up with the first grade lessons at the same time. I bring this up for the teacher also read to us each day. I remember Edgar Rice Burroughs "Tarzan" books as she read a chapter each day. She may have read others, but those have stayed with me all these years.

In the later grades of elementary I started reading the "Black Stallion" series by Walter Farley. In that same time period I also read the poem "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes. Both works allowed my imagination to roam and I do believe it was then that I started writing. The Alfred Noyes poem was especially important to me. The story of love, sacrifice, jealousy and death made a great impression. I know I wrote poems for I found some a few years back. I also remember writing plays and attempting to put them on with my brother and neighbors. Unfortunately none of those survived. Still it was a time of learning to read and having the world open up for me.

I shall follow up next time with middle and high school.

For further reading you can go to: http://www.joyce4books.wordpress.com .

Cheyenne Again

2009-05-17T21:12:00.000-07:00

This past week I was on the road again to Cheyenne for another murder mystery with Red Herring Productions. This time we were at Little America for the Wyoming Truckers Assoc. Since I was the 'victim' I had some time to wander around before the end of the mystery. The picture to the right was taken outside the hotel. While out there I met one of the attendees of the event. She was telling me of her son, in the Midwest, who was attending school and taking an impov class. She felt he would enjoy doing what we were doing. At the end of her conversation she gave me a hug, then told me," Well I need to get back in there and find out who killed you ass." I immediately fell in love with her. She was just who she was and so real. I know I will remember her and she may end up in one of my stories or books.

That is the joy of doing some of the things I do. I get to meet so many wonderful and interesting people. Later I found that a relative of a friend here in town used to own the land and part of Little America. The older I get the more I find that the world is really not that large and people are not that different. Much like the picture, we see only a portion of what is really there.

For those who are following, I will be doing a series on the books that impacted me over the years. I hope you will enjoy and think of your own list of books.

For those who would like to read more about writing and history check out: http://www.joyce4books.wordpress.com

Stories and Star Trek

2009-05-10T20:31:00.000-07:00

You can tell summer season is upon us. In the last two weeks the 'blockbuster' movies season has been out in full force and it shows no sign of letting up anytime soon. For me it is a time of seeing how good a story you can tell and still have the 'visual effects' that seem so much a part of the genre. So far I've seen: 'X-Men Origins' and 'Star Trek'. Both had good stories, but I have to say neither hold up to 'The Soloist'. Still I am comparing apples to lemons or should I say oranges. (Wanted to see if anyone was reading this.)

All of this leads up to telling a good story. No matter what venue you choose to use: books, short stories, movies or TV the basics are still the same. You must tell a good story. I have a friend and whenever we talk movies he always harks back to McKee and the importance of telling a good story. Now we have worked together on films ( not prize winners)that tried to tell a good story. To tell a good story you have to get started. Not every story will be enjoyed by everyone. I would have to say to be 'wildly' successful you need to have at least a cross section of the reading and movie going public enjoy what you have done. To me the success of any story is the 'shelf' life. How many times can you see a story, read a story and still enjoy it.

When I am writing my murder mystery scripts I try to write them in such a way the no matter who the actor is the story can morph into something different with each telling. The same goes for any other story I write. I want the reader, or in the case of theatre/movies, to be able to take something special away with them. My goal is to have the story affect the readers in a special way that is unique to them. To have the story remembered over time. That is the goal of a good story. Will the summer season have such stories told at the movies. I truly hope so.

For those who would like to read more about writing/stories and history check out:http://www.joyce4books.wordpress.com/

The Soloist and other thoughts

2009-05-06T19:30:00.000-07:00

This posting is running a bit late. I had gone to see 'The Soloist' this past Sunday and wanted to take some time to think about the film. First let me say that I truly enjoyed the performances of the main characters. The way they came across was amazing. Both Jamie Fox and Robert Downey Jr. are incredible talents. The subject matter however was one that does not allow easy answers.

Having worked with challenging people I found myself back to the time before I retired. I remembered all the co-workers who were going to change the world and the people in it. When that didn't happen they burnt out, became disillusioned and stopped trying. In many ways that was a sad occurrence. Much like the main characters they and myself played out our stories against the backdrop of challenges and disappointments.

I made it through twenty years and still have fond memories of those times. I also know that I never took the lack of success personally. I found out very early in life that you cannot control another human and when you try you simply hurt yourself. Now that does not mean that I didn't pass on information or offer to help. I am a firm believer in education and learning so that you can make informed choices. Sometimes people simply were not ready for a life change. Did it hurt to see people fail? Perhaps, but what is failure. My failure is not the same as that of others.

I recommend the movie for those who can watch not only great performances, but also for those who want to save the world. To me the film has a great message about that. What is it? See the movie and find out.

On the Road

2009-04-26T22:29:00.000-07:00

The difference between this past weekend and the weekend of April 18 is like night and day. This weekend I traveled in a different direction and headed southwest to the town of Canon City. There Red Herring, the murder mystery company, performed on the Royal Gorge Train.

It was a wonderful experience once we were able to settle on a place to store our belongings. The audience was composed of people who were there not only for a wonderful meal, but to solve the case of 'who done it'. Like last weekend it was a great audience. This time however we were back in the 1920's on a 'SpeakEasy' train. There were gangsters, their girls and of course the 'police'.

For anyone who has not taken the train through the bottom of the Royal Gorge you are missing a truly wonderful experience. The weather was a bit chilly, hence the need to store ourselves and belongings indoors, but the view was worth the discomfort. When not in the car with the audience, I took the time to stand on the observation car, breathe the air and rejoice in the views.

I will say it was wonderful not to have to drive in the snow again. Also Canon City is a bit closer than Cheyenne. Both cities are filled with history. Canon City boasts the first territorial prison and of course the Gorge itself has an interesting history. If you need to take a break, why not try a train ride, solve a mystery or just plain enjoy the view. I know I do.

Plains Hotel, Cheyenne Wyoming

2009-04-21T20:14:00.001-07:00

This past weekend in Colorado and the West we experienced the spring snow storm. The weekend of April 18th was fun and exciting. Where I live in Colorado, there was very little snow. However I just had to travel a few miles north and I was able to see the snow in all its glory and splendor. So what does the snow storm have to do with the Plains Hotel? Plenty!

The murder mystery we were to have performed at the Briarhurst on April 18th, here in Colorado Springs was cancelled due to the weather. That was not the case with the murder mystery taking place in Cheyenne. Fortunately the roads were passable on the 19th and with the exception of the "white out" due to snow, rain and back splash, the trip to Cheyenne was fairly uneventful. It took about three hours to make the trek. When we were outside of Ft. Collins the roads were dry and the ground green. Going up in altitude the ground again became covered with the white stuff. Absolutely beautiful. We arrived in Cheyenne at the Plains at about 4pm. That gave us time to review the script and get into costume.

The murder mystery was a new one for Red Herring. It was a script I wrote based upon a fictional murder that took place just prior to the sinking of the Titanic. We were blessed with the addition of Margaret Browns' great grand daughter who also performed in the show. Helen understandably took the part on Mrs. Brown. What a great job she did on such a short time for rehearsal.

The Plains is a historic hotel in downtown Cheyenne with great character. The service was wonderful and if I had closed the blinds in the bath room I would have been able to sleep past sunrise. Oh well! (The sun came in through the window which faced east. I could have closed the bathroom door a bit more also.)

The show concluded on Sunday morning with the guests arriving at the solution as to who was the actual murderer. By this time the sun had arrived and the snow was melting. Melting except of course where my car had been parked the afternoon before. Fortunately the two gentlemen who were riding back to Colorado Springs with me were able to give my little car a push and we were off and driving. The return trip took slightly over two and a half hours at which point I arrived home, fed the pets and headed back to Denver (Just east of Golden) to do yet another murder mystery.

All in all a great weekend, with a chance to meet many wonderful people and hear their stories. There was also a lot of drive time, which for me is think time. I worked through thoughts for the upcoming newsletter in my head and tried to stay awake. Since this is being written I was successful in that endeavor. When the issue of the newsletter comes out, we will see how successful that was.

An interesting walk

2009-04-12T21:45:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder about events and their legacy? After a wonderful holiday dinner with friends I left early to come home and resume some of the creative projects I have backed up. After finishing a couple I decided to take a walk and clear my mind. It was trying to rain, but hadn't quite made it. I don't mind walking in rain or snow, of which there was still some on the ground from the morning. As I walked my mind was going over all the things on my to-do list. Obviously I was not relaxing or clearing the mind. Just then as I walked by the park a beautiful black lab started barking and running towards me. I greeted him with a hello and he paused to let me pet his head. I then proceeded with my walk. To my surprise and enjoyment he decided to accompany me. He would take off to sniff something but always return or would wait until I caught up with him. He looked to be well cared for, but seemed in no hurry to return to wherever his home was. We walked for quite a while, taking our time and visiting some roads I had not traveled for awhile. As I neared my own home, he took off. It was like he no longer felt I needed the company. I returned home and got back to work. Whose dog he was I may never know, but he was a wonderful companion for a good hour this afternoon.

Salad Sunday

2009-04-05T18:44:00.000-07:00

What is a Salad Sunday? Well it has been that kind of week. There are so many different things going on in the noggin' of mine that I decided to just let them out.

We had snow this afternoon and since I love walking in the snow I wrapped up and out I went. The snowflakes began as miniature ping pong balls, but by the end of the walk they were tapering off and I felt like I was walking in a snow globe and the large flakes settled on my coat and the ground. It was quiet and you could hear yourself think. I must say I enjoyed that. For earlier today I had met with a friend at a tea house and it was so busy and noisy I left with a headache. Still is was a great afternoon for the screenplay I have been helping her edit was finished. Now we will do a final edit and see what happens.

I have started teaching again, (acting, etc) and if feels like I have come home. Private students are a great deal of fun, but group classes have a dynamic all their own. The joy of watching the light bulbs go on is a feeling, that to me cannot be duplicated. Then to see each one have the confidence to follow their dream. Well, that's why I do it.

Now it is time to finish up the newsletter draft and get it sent off and do some editing on my short story and novel. I think I can fit that in between loads of laundry or should I say I will fit the laundry in between my writing.

The creative part of me decries my having to do mundane work, and yet it is the mundane work that allows my mind to rest and develop my creative side. Well, whichever way I guess it is back to work.

To finish I will let you know a recipe secret, especially for those of you who cannot eat wheat. I cooked a turkey breast today and to the broth I have added some rice, spices (to taste) and broccoli, cooked it up and then put it in the blender to create a cream soup. To this I will add some cheese of choice and turkey and there you have a great, filling soup.

What makes a friendship?

2009-03-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking a great deal about friendship lately. What makes a true friendship? Is it a shared idea, shared friends? Some people think that frienship is just being able to use someone when it suits them. Others give lip service to being a friend, but if you need to talk or just are checking in and someone else is more important, you are told in so many words to 'kiss off'. You are not important enough to spend time with.

So how do you tell who your friends are? Sometimes it takes stressful times to see who really is there. Of course you can be the good friend who is always there for someone, but they are not there for you. Why do we have this imbalance? It may be that we don't expect to have our friendships to be reciprocated. Perhaps we just are so happy to have someone talk to use that we accept being second. Is that fair? Probably not, still a number of us settle for whatever we are given.

They say to have good friends is to be a good friend. I am not sure I agree. It seems that people are more concerned with themselves and what they need and not just enjoying someone for who they are. We are judgemental, including me. How do we change that? It is a question worth looking into. It may take time, but perhaps it is worthwhile. Life is too short to have fair weather friends. I say let those friends go who cannot give you time and make friends with yourself. Love those who hurt you and those who don't. The friend worth having will value you for who you are, not what you can do for them. Treasure those and let the rest go.

New Directions

2009-03-22T20:05:00.000-07:00

After much thought and some craziness I have decided that this blog really is about the ramblings of my restless mind. I am the type of person who just moves from one thing to the next. Rather than try to confine who and what I am to one thing, this will be the place that as ideas pop into my head I will get them out.

There are many things in this life to be explored and enjoyed. I want to share that with my readers. So fasten you seatbelts and enjoy the ride.

I didn't choose the title renawomyn for nothing. It is a play on the spelling of renaissance women. No I am not the new Leonardo, but you can't blame someone for aiming high. I just choose to not limit myself. Life is too short and I have been having a great deal of fun.

2008-12-28T18:11:00.000-08:00

As the year ends I wonder what happened to 2008. It seems that with all we do that we have no time for memories. Usually at this time I answer questions my friend in San Antonio sends every year. It forces me to take stock of what I did. While those are good things to look at, I wonder why I don't notate the memories. Much like the picture to the right. Taking time to look at the trees and the sky. Wondering at the colors. Not only of fall, but year round. The wonderful summer making trips to South Cheyenne Canyon twice a week. All these 'pictures' in my mind are fodder for future creative endeavors. Perhaps taking time to remember the sight, taste, smell and touch of our lives would allow us to savor the richness that we have. All that has been a part of us will never leave. Although we don't want to wallow in the past, it does inform who we are and how we pass on our uniquiness to the world. Let's take the time to pause in 2009 to allow the true story of who we are come to the forefront and share that instead of the busyness we use as an excuse to keep people at bay.

What keeps us from writing

2008-11-18T18:31:00.000-08:00

As I write through the nanowrimo event I find myself wondering why I fight sitting in the chair and just writing. Yes, I have carpel tunnel and my hands do go numb, but that is no excuse for not telling my stories.

Ah! there it is. Telling MY stories. In telling the stories I have inside me I am sharing a special part of myself.. That can be very terrifying. What if people don't like what I have to say? What is they are cruel in their judgements? That kind of thinking can stop even the most daring person I know. Well perhaps not, but in my mind this is something that is horrid.

Also is the 'critic' that keeps telling me that it has to be perfect. Perfection is a dream, excellence is the goal. Still that can be an unattainable idea if followed through to it's end. Not quite as bad as perfect, but close.

So what should be done? For me it is taking on challenges to just write. In doing so I learn many things about myself. One: Because I am an oral storyteller, I write in first person. That is the most comfortable arena for me. Two: I write in dialogue. Duh! I write scripts and plays. To take on the challenge of writing something else is a good thing.

To those who convinced me to write the 'novel' in a month, I thank you. Due to your insistence I am learning to stop the 'critic', realize how I write and most importantly that I can write. That is very freeing. Yes, I am still concerned that it will not be good, but hey! it will be written and I can always hope for a good editor after the first draft. Thank goodness for friends.

Hello again

2008-09-11T21:31:00.000-07:00

I have been away for awhile. The summer has been very busy and it looks like there will be no let up soon. Still I would not have my life much different. There are many things happening and I love the fact that I can be creative and have the life I choose to live.

Taking time to see

2008-06-25T21:43:00.000-07:00

I have been away for a while. Technology is a wonderful thing as long as it works. In my case the computer system was not up to standard. Hence I was away for a bit. Now the new system is up and running and I can get back to work.

One thing I have been doing that does not require the computer is writing in a journal my thoughts and meditations on Pikes Peak. It is amazing how spending time each day pondering that majestic mountain in all its' various phases can bring out such interesting thoughts. I have been aware that some things I had not thought of are now in the area of my focus. The idea to ponder something over a period of time came about during a conversation with one of the guest at Seven Falls where I perform as Helen Hunt Jackson during the summer.

He was a former minister who now worked in stained glass. We were talking about people in a hurry to get to and from things and how we miss the little wonders. He told of a lady who spent a year studying a piece of stained glass at various times during the day and night. Her observations she kept in a journal. He said he convinced her to let him publish the account for a limited number of people. Of the 1,000 copies all were sold to people who also had bought stained glass for their homes.

After that conversation I felt that taking time to really look at something was a good idea. I don't write in the journal everyday, but have noticed that I am taking things a bit slower and observing more.

Time and stories

2008-03-12T22:13:00.000-07:00

Isn't it interesting how we get started on projects and then we let life get in the way. I had started this blog and then got sick. Now it is time to begin again.

To me this is the way stories are done. The characters start their journeys and then life gets in their way. We as story tellers want people to enjoy the journey our characters take. For those of us who belong to groups we sometimes get discouraged because the groups think they need to make what we do better. That is a great idea, but sometimes I think we just want people to read our stories and get involved with our characters and just tell us they understand. They let us know that the people they have just spent time with were worth that time and they appreciate what we have done.

Having said the above the writer (that would be me in this case) still has to tell the best story they can. So the next time you read a great story, find a way to let the author know how you have enjoyed what they created.

How to have fun

2008-02-13T19:40:00.000-08:00

How to have fun. First find something you have never done, or haven't done in a long time. Then forget you fears and just jump in. If you are afraid of speaking to a group of people, find some friends and practice making a speech to them. Have them give you feedback. Learn to think and speak on your feet. Then go find that place where you can give your speak.

Hey, it is only a speech. You may be surprised and how you can survive.