Tag Archives: Inspiration

My Foray into Fair Isle

8 Jan

Image

Over my Winter break from graduate school, I took the time to get reacquainted with my knitting.  First, I overcame my anxiety over knitting socks and successfully knit two pair.  Then, as many knitters do, I began exploring patterns and looking for inspiration when I found the pattern and instructional videos for a Fair Isle hat.

At first glance, Fair Isle knitting looks incredibly complicated.  People gaze at these types of projects in amazement wondering how exactly they are created.  I, too, had similar trepidation at the thought of knitting something in a Fair Isle motif but as I began to learn more, I learned a few things that helped me complete the two projects pictured in this post.

In Fair Isle knitting, you never use more than two colors on any given row.

These patterns are deceiving because it appears as if the colors overlap or are intertwined in some form or fashion.  The reality is that the project is knit one row at a time, and you use a chart to know when to knit with Color A or Color B.  It may appear as if multiple colors are being used on the same row, but according to what I have read, only two colors should be used on any given row.

In Fair Isle knitting, most of the stitches are basic knits and purls.

In sweater construction, I am sure there are other types of stitches used, but in hats and scarfs as pictured above, I used nothing more than the knit stitch and the purl stitch.  No fancy footwork here!

In Fair Isle knitting, it is critical to watch tension and make sure you are not tightening the colors that are carried across the row.

When you switch from one color to another on a row, you carry the yarn across the previous stitches made from the other color you are using.  When doing this, it is important to keep the tension light and to not tighten the carried yarn.  This will create puckers in your fabric and your project will not lay flat.  This was a point illuminated in a video I watched and it was extremely helpful to note as I worked on these two projects.

In Fair Isle knitting, the inspiration is endless.

Although I’m not sure I will finish it before the Spring semester begins tomorrow, I have started a second Fair Isle hat using the same pattern as pictured.  I have, however, changed the colors, and I have found an alternate 13-row pattern to repeat around the crown of the hat.  That is what I love about this — you master a pattern and then you can morph it by altering the color selections, the designs on the item, and so much more.

Whatever your art may be, find new inspiration as the year begins by learning a new technique, something that not only builds your skills, but that takes your art in exciting new directions!

Domestic Bliss

10 Dec

This past week, I hit “Submit” and posted my last term paper of the semester.  It was 18 pages and over 6,000 words.  The week before last, I wrote another paper of comparable size.  As this weekend approached, my brain was tired.  It seemed appropriate, then, to spend today, my first day without a book to read, annotation or sketch to write, or presentation to prepare for, doing other things that feed my soul.

Sleeping In

Most days of the week, our house gets going at 5:45 a.m.  If my Other Half does a morning workout, we do 5:30, but in general, it’s 5:45 a.m.  On weekends, we may set the alarm for 7:30 or 8 so I can get up to get a few hours of homework in before I run errands.  Today, though, we set no alarm, and let the morning sun greet us through the blinds, the Comedy & Tragedy masks a friend brought us from Venice hung above the window staring down at us.

Even if I still wake up early, there’s something about waking up naturally, no abrupt slamming into the day, but a gentle waltz into consciousness.  Once I wake up, I, much like my father, have no problem laying in bed another 20 or 30 minutes.  I ponder the day ahead and things on my agenda, and if it is a chilly morning, I simply enjoy the warmth under layers of blankets.  Regardless of circumstances, waking up without an alarm was a simple joy this morning.

Knitting Frenzy

My parents live in Northern California where they have true winters and cold temperatures, and they also enjoy taking early morning walks around the neighborhood.  This year, Mom asked for a knitted hat she could sport on these regular promenades so amidst completing my last paper, I also knit a ribbed hat for her.

Yesterday, I started a matching scarf to accompany the hat and now the knitting-toward-Christmas frenzy begins.  I have a week to finish knitting the scarf and blocking it before both the scarf and hat get sent to California and to arrive in time for the holiday.

This morning, I eased into the day, spending an hour or so curled up in my favorite chair, a cup of robust coffee on the table next to me, knitting row after row of the scarf.  The last time I was able to do so without cause for concern of time was in August before the semester started, so it was very grounding to be able to spend more than a few minutes at a time knitting a project that I hope will bring joy to someone else.

Time in the Kitchen

Something else I enjoy doing is cooking, especially for others, including Mr. O.H. (Other Half).  Today, after I got home from grocery shopping, I got busy.  I baked lemon bars.  I made a pistachio pudding salad with crushed pineapple, cottage cheese, and Cool-Whip.  I made a Chicken Divan casserole.  It was a day full of comfort foods and of spending time in my intimate bungalow kitchen preparing a delicious dinner for my partner and me.

I do spend time cooking during school, but we tend to focus more on 30-Minute Meals so I can quickly return to reading or writing.  Today, I had no place I needed to be and no requirements placed upon my time.  It was energizing to return to the kitchen!

Feeding the Soul

Certain activities may or may not be conscious choices, but what I know for sure is there are things that, for whatever reason, feed our individual souls.  Some may get that energy and refueling from working out or running, others by getting involved with a performing group or community theater, some perform volunteer work, and still others make time to enjoy simple pleasures (like cooking and knitting).  It’s very easy to let time get the best of us, as well as the many demands placed on our time.  But in those moments when you feel the tension coming on, when your patience wears a little thin, or you just want to have a few martinis to numb the pain, consider stepping away for even a short while to do something that you really love to do.  You can listen to some inspiring music or read a chapter in an entertaining book to help you get your mind off things, if only temporarily.

This season is typically busy for many, to the point that we end up not able to truly enjoy the season and the people with whom we are celebrating because we reach the holiday itself in a full state of exhaustion.  Make this year different, and much more enjoyable for yourself (and those around you).  Take time to do the things you love, pursue your passions, and find those unique opportunities when you, too, can refuel and feed your soul.

 

How do I do it?

27 Nov

With only two class meetings to attend and two final papers to submit, my first semester in graduate school draws to a close.  Part of me recalls the joy and exuberance I felt in March of this year when I received the email I was accepted.  Then, I recall how incredibly tough I was on myself the first week of the semester, my confidence nearly shattered.  But as I sit here now, reflecting on the semester in its entirety, I know that I am changed because of it all.  I’ve met some really nice people, all on their own respective artistic journeys.  I’ve learned so much, not only from professors, but also from fellow students.  In a short period of time, I’ve learned to look at things differently and my learning has enjoyed immediate application along the way.

People often say to me, “I don’t know how you have a full-time job and take two college classes and still have a life!”  I’ve thought about this question for some time and so I thought I’d put a few thoughts down about what has helped me enjoy this semester so much.

Clarity of Purpose

It sounds obvious, but one thing I have never wavered from is having clarity of purpose.  School is one of my top priorities and by making it so, that has made making decisions about what to do or not do easier.  Have I missed out on a few things?  Yes, of course.  There is only so much time in a day.  But because I’m pursuing my personal passion, my homework consists of reading and writing – two things I love to do.  

Having a very clear vision of what you want to accomplish anchors in your psyche the compass that guides your every action, and that purpose is used as a filter for all that you do.

Time Management

It’s an overused term, I agree.  But a little planning and setting aside specific time to do what needs to get done has been a critical success factor for me.  On certain evenings or on weekends, I know I need to complete certain assignments because if I don’t do them at that moment, they won’t get done on time.  And submitting any assignment late is not an option for me.  

It also involves learning to say no.  This hearkens back to having clarity of purpose – if you are clear about your end result, your ultimate goal, you make decisions about the use of time in a way that supports that goal.

It’s Not Easy

Perhaps I have made the process look easy to those with whom I work or to close friends.  They see me enjoying school, which I absolutely do, but they do not see the hard work that happens when I am alone, facing the blank computer screen to write a creative sketch, or the hours spent researching to find a few quotes on a very specific topic.  And, as I did just yesterday, in one day, writing a 3,200 word 10-page draft of a paper.

What I have learned in all of this is that many of the cliched life lessons we hear are true.  You get out of something what you put into it.  Manage time, don’t let time manage you.  Anything worth doing is worth doing well.  Whatever bumper sticker you subscribe to, what I know for sure is that it makes all the difference when you are doing something you love, when you follow your passion.  It never feels like work.  I don’t find myself saying, “Ugh, I have to go to class again.”  All that I am doing and learning is, in some way, contributing to the pursuit of my art.  And that is, to me, what it’s all about.

Lessons from an Evening with Gloria Steinem

31 Oct

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to attend “An Evening with Gloria Steinem” at Rollins College in Winter Park, Florida.  I knew of her work, especially in the 1970s and 80s, focused on the feminist movement, but did not have a recent sense of her platform, her level of activism for not only women but indigenous people and same-sex marriage.  It was an evening that to describe with “inspiring” does not do it justice.  There were some specific points I found poignant and I want to share a few with you.

“This moment is unrepeatable.”

Her opening statement acknowledged the importance of the moment.  The moment in which hundreds were gathered in a college arena to listen to a cultural and historical icon speak, that same combination of experiences, perspectives, and DNA will never be in that exact same form again.  That notion, for me, immediately set a tone of collective oneness with those around me – many very different from me, many the same (and all assessment simply based on appearances).

Her statement made me realize that, in any given moment, whether shared with one, a group, or alone, is never to be repeated in precisely the same manner, with exactly the same outcome.  By opening with this statement, it not only made me appreciate what was happening and of what I was a part, but also translates to any other moment that may follow in our lives.

Triangle vs. Circle

Steinem certainly had a few things to say about people in positions of privilege, whether economic privilege (acknowledging the efforts of the Occupy Wall Street movement), or male privilege, or white privilege.  One core element in the maintenance of privilege is the establishment of a power structure that looks like a triangle – where the masses are at the bottom, and the few who hold the riches and the keys to rule the land sit neatly at the top.

One phrase she used that I thought had great applications in managing conflict, whether at work or at home, was, “How can we turn this discussion from a triangle to a circle?”

You see, in a circle, everyone is equal, and faces one another.  What types of triangles exist in your life?  When you see a triangle playing out in a meeting or even informal interaction, what role can you play (will you play) to transform it into a circle?  Thinking about transforming meetings by pushing others to think more inclusively by using the triangle vs. circle model made a great deal of sense to me – and I look forward to trying it out soon.

Images of God

No topic appeared to be taboo for Steinem.  Religion, and particularly religious conservatism, came up.  She talked about the historical role of a certain church in the legalization and then subsequent criminalization of abortions (citing very specific historical details effortlessly).  She also talked about religion and the privileges that being part of a large-scale organized religion brings.

“When images of God reflect the ruling class, you’re in deep shit,” Gloria said.  There is so much power in that statement, and as I think about the images of Jesus and of God that I saw growing up as a white boy in California – they all looked like me.  But historically, when all the images of God in any region where a particular religion is popular among the citizenry actually look like those in positions of power and privilege, and if you don’t match that image, as Gloria said, “You’re in deep shit.”  The ruling class has, in essence, likened their image to God’s, which only fuels their continued perception they are better than others.

Fertilized Egg v. Woman

As I continue to understand the privileges I experience simply by being male in this country, probably one of my biggest a-ha moments was when Gloria discussed the social discourse around abortion and how the language is very carefully phrased to refer to “the fertilized egg.”  Using this phrase, versus talking about women, their bodies, and what they may do with their bodies, helps people forget the abortion issue is about women making their own choices.  It’s not about a fertilized egg – it’s about the woman, her decisions, her reproductive rights, and it is not the government’s role to tell any woman what to do with her own body.

This one made me really mad, and even after a woman during Q&A challenged this notion, Gloria respectfully and kindly acknowledged that ultimately it is about letting a woman decide whether to have an abortion…or not – and to not deny her rights to do either.

Tell Our Stories

Towards the end of the evening, Gloria stressed the importance of telling our stories.  When we are presented as aggregates – women, men, heterosexuals, gays and lesbians – it is very easy, particularly for those in positions of power and privilege, to discount the impact certain policies or laws or hateful behaviors affect those in underrepresented groups.  When each of us, however, gathers the courage and uses the outlets we each possess, to tell our stories, to talk about our experiences in productive ways that help others realize there are other truths different from theirs – that’s when real change of heart and mind can happen!

As a writer, this call to action resonated with me.  I think of the stories about my life I have told here in the past couple of years and how it is possible that, to a reader of whom I may not even be aware, there is always the possibility someone may read a sentence or two and find comfort, joy, or inspiration.  The beauty of being human is that we all have this power – through the telling of our stories in whatever way we feel most confident (some write, some paint, some sing).  This call to arms was also about taking action, about doing something tomorrow, and then the next day, and the day after that.  Action is critical if we ever want to make progress.

What it all means to me

As I thought about relating the many messages, both great and small, discussed on Friday night, I turned inward and thought about myself and about the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community of which I am a member.  I thought about how it seems we spend so much time trying to shape how other people view our community, trying to manage perceptions and misunderstandings, minimize the myths and spread our truth.  What I’m not sure we do as often in the LGBT community is spend focused time and effort looking inward, working more on how we view ourselves, and then appreciating the value and reward that can come from that type of introspection.

Growing up gay, we receive so many negative messages about who we are, being told that who and what we are is a sin, it’s an abomination, it’s ugly, or it’s just plain wrong.  Not that we are damaged goods, but there has been a little damage done to each of us along the way, those that received these messages, whether infrequently or often.  I tried to search on Amazon for books that were inspirational for LGBT people, that helped encourage, inspire, and heal.  From what I found, those volumes are few and very far between.

This is also true on an individual level.  Sometimes we spend a lot of time worrying about what other people think of us – but the reality is that no matter how much energy we put into trying to shape their perspectives, the other person, group, or entity will still see us however they want (and filtered through their own views, perceptions, and past experiences).

I see much greater rewards emerging from energy focused on caring for ourselves.  When we give ourselves the proper care and feeding, physically and emotionally, that makes us a better partner, colleague, and friend to others.  If we spend the time we need looking inward, we are then better equipped to care for one another.  We can have the power to turn a triangle into a circle, one unrepeatable moment at a time.

Taking the Stage

23 Oct

When I began my MFA studies in August of this year, I told myself that I would use this time to really branch out, experiment, do things I’ve never done before.  It is a noble cause in one’s own mind, but as the opportunities emerge, some, I must say, feel commensurate to rappelling in the Grand Canyon, cliff diving in Acapulco.  Such was the case on October 9 when I participated in a new reading series, “Parcels: MFAs in Progress” with five of my fellow students from University of Central Florida.

Preparations

In my professional career, I have done a great deal of public speaking.  From small classrooms of 20 people to large ballrooms of over 1,000 people, as long as I know what I’m talking about, these scenarios have not been problematic.  However, the content was corporate, not part of me and who I am.  But as I worked on the piece I read and the overall presentation I would make, I realized it made me a little, well, crazy.

I read and re-read, out loud, the piece I was going to present.  I rehearsed, trying different tones and inflections to ensure the message I wanted to convey came across perfectly.

Before the reading, I took painstaking care in personal grooming (more so than I already typically do, if that is possible), and I did not take a seat at the venue until after I read (so that my new Banana Republic Monogram shirt would not wrinkle before I stood in front of the crowd).  I know.  Don’t judge.

In some ways, I went into that same obsessive mindset I do just before hosting a dinner party.  I call it, “Going Martha,” and I think, in a small way, that may have been what I did in the days and minutes leading up to my reading.

The Moment

Sade sang the lyrics long ago:  ”It’s never as good as the first time.”  That may be true, but as my first time on stage reading my own creative work, this night was exhilarating.  Did I have dry mouth and want to pass out?  Yes, of course.  But as I stood at the microphone and read my words, I looked out at a field of 50 friendly faces, many my fellow students, faculty, and a few friends and family.  It was a moment in which I knew I just needed to dive in and swim around in what was happening.  That’s what I tried to do.

After Glow

I was the second reader of the evening, so I was able to return to my seat and relax, enjoying the rest of the reading.  I had achieved a milestone and had done something completely new for me.  I was living my vision, driving toward my goals of greater experimentation and presence in the local creative landscape.

During intermission, J. Bradley, host of There Will Be Words, a fantastic monthly reading series, also held at Urban ReThink, approached me and introduced himself.  He said he appreciated my work and would like to invite me to be one of the featured writers at the January 2012 TWBW.  This was a great surprise to me and I was honored by his invitation.  One step forward pushed me in a new direction, the wheel keeps turning, and I will take the stage once again on January 10.

What I Know For Sure

When we push ourselves to venture into unexplored territory, our small steps lead to bigger victories.  Is it easy?  Rarely, if ever.  But is it exhilarating as you feel the rush of the moment, realize that what you’ve done is leading you toward the bigger vision you have for your life?  Absolutely!

What are you planning to do with that?

24 Sep

I am fortunate in that, rarely in my life, have I been in a position where I’ve done something because it was a survivalist imperative.  There have been things that, of course, as a responsible adult and contributor to society, are required (such as pursuing gainful employment).  Even in the job department, I’ve been very fortunate that I’ve been able to work in fields that excite and inspire me, constantly challenge me and have, in myriad ways, helped me become the person I am today.

When I was pursuing my undergraduate degree in the early 1990s, a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology, I was getting a college degree, I think, because I knew it would be helpful for me as I prepared to enter the job market.  I wasn’t particularly sure what the psychology field would have to offer me, but I felt like the subject matter was broad enough that it would have applications to many fields.  I rarely got the question, What are you going to do with a degree in psychology?

Fast forward 18 years.  I’m 41.  Established in my career.  Partnered for 10 years.  Life is, truly, good.  I decide to pursue a long-held goal of mine, to go back for a Master’s degree, a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing in fact.  If you are a regular reader of mine, you’ll know this is not new news.  But what I have found interesting in the last few weeks as I have reconnected with friends and colleagues, as well as family members, and have shared the great news about my studies, I continue to get the question: A Master of Fine Arts?  What are you planning to do with that?

The underlying implication of this line of questioning is that it is not possible to go to school with the sincerest interest in, simply, the experience of learning, of being in an academic environment and having detailed discourse about obscure topics that only you and a small group of people have remote interest in.  It is a chance to appeal to one’s inner nonfiction nerd, one’s closeted grammar geek.

I know their intentions are good, and they simply want to understand how the time and expense invested in a graduate studies program will pay off in my post-academic endeavors.  Bottom line: What does this mean for you in the job market?

Pursuing a technical degree that prepares you for a specific field is one thing.  This is an artistic degree, that also prepares students for a particular field, but there is more to it.  A Creative Writing MFA elevates one’s literary skill and quality to new levels – and that is good for just about anything, whether creative writing or other jobs that require the drafting of any written content.  Having a full-time career now allows me to spend another portion of my time on my true passion and love, with the hope that eventually I will publish my work, that I will be immortalized in print, and that, in some small way, my words will mean something to someone when they are happened upon in a dusty library shelf, or a shiny, well-lit online PDF.

I certainly have goals in mind as I consider what I would like to do after I have obtained my MFA.  But the joy in this process is what is happening right now – the pursuit of the degree.  The new friendships I’ve established.  The books I’ve scoured that I may not have given a second glance to otherwise.  The copious sketches and papers I’ve written, many of which I am rather pleased with.  The spirited discussions I’ve enjoyed with my academic colleagues.  These are all the gifts I am enjoying now.

So forgive me if I don’t have a plan to foreshadow what I may do as a result of getting my degree, but in the first weeks of my first semester, I’m simply enjoying the ride.

 

Remembering

11 Sep

It was a Tuesday morning.  I was a young professional working in the Florida headquarters for Walt Disney World in Lake Buena Vista.  I was 31 and had just met the man who would end up being my partner for ten years (and still is today).  I was filled with the naivete of someone that age, adjusting to the world still, feeling like an adult while embracing a youthful spirit.

I was learning about responsibility and maturity.  I took for granted the safety and security of my homeland, land of the brave, the free.  Then the first plane hit the World Trade Center.  At a moment when our disbelief barely would help us put this event in context, a second plane hit the second tower.  Then one tower fell to the ground, a graceful giant reduced to ash.  The second tower shortly followed.  I don’t recall ever feeling so vulnerable, my mind wondering, like many Americans that day, what was going to happen next?  How wide and far would these attacks manifest themselves – was this the beginning of war on our own territories?

I left the office at noon that day, like many others, staggering to our cars in utter disbelief, a blanket of uncertainty launching us into a fog of momentary fear.  As a nation, as a person, we tried to make sense of what happened.  It got much worse before it got better as news of those we’d lost came to light.  We also found inspiration in the stories of those who survived, who were able to make it out and live to tell of their horrific and unimaginable experiences.

My first trip to New York City was in May 2004.  Since then, New York City has become my city, much like millions of other people.  Whether you live there or simply, as I do, see yourself as an honorary citizen, the city and all its diverse multitude has amassed a special place in my heart.  And though I was distraught on that fateful day, I found myself today equally, if not more so.

I watched the memorial tributes on television and began to realize the full cost of what transpired.  Now that I have context, having visited various parts of Manhattan, including its southern area, I now truly cannot imagine what that must have been like, looking up to see clouds of debris flying with great speeds covering entire neighborhoods, shrouding stories that would eventually be discovered, lasting reminders of the hope to come from such a tragedy, many phoenixes out of a mass of ash.

I’m also a different person.  Now 41, I don’t necessarily see the world as my playground.  I have more of a shared vision for what life can be like as part of the human race.  I see the interconnectedness of one person to another, and, at the risk of sounding narcissistic in my youth, I care more about others at this point in my life than I did when I was 31.  My youthful fervor has been tempered with love, loss and the learning that life has brought me.

Today, I do remember that day, who we were as a nation, who I was as a person, and what 9/11/2001 meant then.  I also reflect on what it means to me today, its memory etched in my heart.

I know our country is not perfect and our struggles within for economic stability and civil rights for all people continue amidst an onslaught of political ignorance and self-serving ideals.  But in those cities, that neighborhood, the quiet suburban street struck by a flood or a tornado or violence of one kind or another, we turn to each other as Americans, rising above our own needs to help another, to be there when push comes to shove and differences can be put aside, at least for the moment, to see the bigger picture: preservation not only of individual lives but of the American spirit itself.

Back to School

4 Sep

I am a firm believer that there is a right time for everything.  ”To everything there is a season,” so the saying goes.  And so the season for me to return to college to pursue graduate studies has arrived and I’ve now completed two weeks of classes and assignments.

Although I expect no accolades, it has been 18 years since I graduated with my Bachelor of Arts in Psychology from California State University, Chico.  The practices of a student’s schedule, managing assignments, and having all the time in the world to complete coursework (though we still often waited until the last minute) are much faded memories for me.  As school began, it was definitely time to relearn some of those skills and take note of some of the discoveries I’ve made as the first semester of my program begins.

Life experience counts for something.

As the semester began and I started to look at the syllabi for the two courses I’m taking, I combined them all into an integrated project plan.  This gives me a single view of all assignments for a given week and allows me to plan my studying time outside of the classroom accordingly.

As I read books, articles or creative work, I’m an avid highlighter, and take a moment to jot thoughts, questions or reactions on Post-It notes to place on the appropriate page.  I want to not only further anchor the learning in my psyche, but also want to ensure I am adequately prepared for any discussion in which I may be involved.

In these first two weeks, I have quickly realized that had I pursued the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing degree right out of undergraduate studies, I don’t know that I would have had the work experience that has given me the project and time management skills that have already served me well, even early on in the semester.

Often, the greatest expectations of us come from within.

The first week of the semester was difficult.  I won’t lie.  Momentarily, my confidence was shaken, quickly finding myself caught in a game of comparisons with my fellow students.  I was basing these myriad assumptions on very limited interactions, and my intuitive mind quickly took something very minor and extrapolated it into something catastrophic.  Inside my own mind, I was being a bit of a Drama Queen.

It had been a very long time since I wrote any semblance of a formal essay where citations and bibliographies were required, so I second-guessed the form and wondered if was I doing it all correctly.  I wondered if my contributions to class discussion were as insightful or pithy as I felt they should be.  This was a dark space to which I had traveled.

Ultimately, after a few class sessions passed and I experienced the dialogue, as well as took time to get to know some of my fellow students, including some returning to college after being out for a while, I quickly realized that it is not about competition against others.  I would not even consider myself a competitive person, so thought it even more odd that I got into that momentary state with school.  With a couple of weeks passed, I realize that I would not have been selected for the program if the faculty did not believe and agree that I had something to contribute.  I also know this is true for my fellow students.

What I’ve been able to do, then, is to keep things in context and look for things that I can learn from each of my colleagues and classmates.  Simultaneously, my other focus has shifted to simply doing the best that I can, still pushing myself but knowing that I don’t need to get crazy about it.

Savor the learning experience.

From the very first class, I quickly realized they were too short.  We would just get into animated dialogue about an assignment or our reading and it would be time to go.  To find myself in a community of others with as much or more of a passion for writing and learning and literature that I have has been incredibly inspiring.  At the risk of resurrecting the nerd of my youth, I dare say that the term “homework” does not apply – these are simply structured reading and writing assignments that are fun and interesting and challenging.

No matter how long you have been out of college, or the roads of life on which you have traveled, if you’ve considered returning to school for graduate studies, do it!  I would say going back to pursue my MFA has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.  My mind is challenged.  My creativity is inspired.  My passion for writing and learning continues to flourish at ever-increasing levels.

Noting the larger scale projects on the horizon this semester, I’m sure I am still in the honeymoon phase of this first semester; however, the fundamental experience of being back in college makes the time, dedication, commitment and perseverance required totally and completely worth it.

 

A time to finish, a time to begin

21 Aug

 

There is something liberating about finishing things.  Whether great, complex projects or daily, mundane tasks, the act of completing something not only brings closure to one thing but opens up time, energy and inspiration to arrive in other ways.  Such was the joy I experienced this weekend.

This week, I embark on a two- to three-year journey toward getting my MFA in Creative Writing.  I am inspired and energized and also am realistic, knowing it will require a great deal of energy, focus and time committed to the pursuit of my writing craft.  And, as I prepare to start classes this week, there were two lingering things I wanted to complete, because I knew that if I didn’t, they would not find their way to the finish line until the New Year, at minimum.

Mission 1: Finish reading “Becoming a Man: Half a Life Story” by Paul Monette

Earlier this summer I read Paul Monette’s stirring memoir, “Borrowed Time,”  chronicling the death of his partner of seventeen years, Roger Horwitz.  Roger died of AIDS complications in the late 80s, a time when ignorance and mainstream denial contributed to the effectual genocide of a generation of gay men, and certainly others impacted by the disease.  I was mesmerized by Paul’s voice, gritty and raw, seasoned with a gruff sentimentalism.  After Paul wrote “Borrowed Time,” he was inspired to write about the first half of his life that lead toward self-acceptance and meeting Roger for the first time.

Largely chronicling intense self-hatred, internalized shame and homophobia, as well as oppressive societal norms of the late 50s and 60s, “Becoming a Man” is stirring in another way.  Although I sensed his emotions extreme, with the turn of each page he would pose a question, state a thought that I can, as a child myself, recall thinking at one point or another as I came to accept who I really am.

Knowing how his life ends (also dying of AIDS complications at age 45 in 1995) made this an even more engaging read, a man peering back at his missed opportunities, acknowledging the gift of a long-term relationship, and then mourning at the moment when he realizes it is all gone and he is alone once again is both captivating and heart-wrenching.

And yesterday morning, as I sat curled up in my favorite armchair, cup of coffee within arm’s reach, I pored through the last pages of “Becoming a Man,” only to find myself moved to tears at the book’s final words which I will not spoil here but must be read, particularly by anyone who grew up feeling unlovable or unloved themselves.  It was an incredible journey, making me both sad and encouraged, inspired by his uncompromising truth and valiant exposure of the depths of denial and deception to which we go to maintain the darkest of secrets.  Mission 1 accomplished.

Mission 2: Finish knitting my latest project-in-progress

For the past couple of months, a little at a time, I had been knitting a scarf, my latest in a string of projects.  Primarily intended as a sample to use in the knitting classes I teach at The Black Sheep Shop, this four-row pattern is easy to whip up, only requires knits, purls and a slipped stitch at the beginning of each row, and really evolves into a nice, textured piece.  Using Lion Brand Yarn’s “Amazing” yarn in “Mesa,” I have continued to knit a few rows and here and there until this weekend.

I noticed the second of two skeins was quickly dwindling in size and that I was in fact approaching the end of the project.  Although no tears were shed as in Mission 1, I always take a moment when finishing a knitting project to relish in my accomplishment, swim in the perfection (or, often, imperfection) of it, and think to myself, “Yes, I made this from string with two sticks.”

Knitting is both simple and complex, becoming automatic after much practice, while still always keeping even the most experienced challenged in some way.  Although this is my go-to pattern, the one I have memorized and always pays well in its inspired return on creative investment, I still stood back and admired it after weaving in the last end of loose yarn.

Loose ends accounted for

Today, as I prepare for the exciting journey that awaits me, the new chapter I begin, I am relieved in a way because I have tied up loose ends, finishing two things that are important to me, and clearing the way for all that I am to do in the very near future.

It is liberating to finish something, not only because that task, project or obligation is no longer there to take your time, but it also frees your mind to take your work in new and different directions, giving you the freed space in the human hard-drive to take in and process more.  I breathe deeply, swimming in this moment of closure for two things, and the beginning of something more monumental and life-altering just around the corner.

 

 

An Unexpected Fiber Arts Adventure

31 Jul

I love Canada.  I’ve been to select cities and certainly like some over others, but Canada always provides beautiful landscapes, kind people, and a rich history and heritage of fiber arts.  The latter I was vividly reminded of during a recent cruise I took through Canada and New England.  Although I didn’t intend to make the Canadian leg of the journey quite so fiber heavy, it was an unexpected pleasure to visit attractions and locales that feature the fiber arts so prominently.

Highland Village Museum, Iona, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

An established village that highlights the extensive Gaelic heritage and Scottish roots in the maritime provinces, Highland Village had a series of buildings you can visit to see what life was like at various points in the area’s history.

The first log cabin we visited…

… was an example of a home at a point in history, but when I walked in, I discovered activities and culture steeped in the fiber arts.  It was evident all around me.  There was a large spinning wheel and weaving loom:

There was yarn that was colored with natural dyes (e.g., boiled onion skin or beet):

and there were great mounds of raw fiber waiting to be spun:

As we continued on our tour of the village, we found that many of the homes depicted also had fiber-related projects in-progress or the tools to use for such pursuits:

And one building was home to a full-scale industrial wool carder that would process raw wool much more quickly and prepare it for spinning (a much quicker process than hand carding which would have been the other method used at that time):

It was great learning so much about the role fiber arts played in the early heritage of the residents of the region.  At the conclusion of our visit, I thought my immersion in fiber arts would end there – but there was more to be seen!

Anne of Green Gables House, Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island

Though I was apparently one of about 5 people who did not read “Anne of Green Gables” as a child, I still found great folly touring the grounds and home that provided L.M. Montgomery with her inspiration for the stories.  Again, I found that fiber and needle arts were an evident part of the culture depicted in the home, and captured the spirit of those pursuits in photographs.  Here are a few:

 

The house and gardens were also stunning…

And as we were strolling the grounds, heading toward the barn from the house, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a woman seated, spinning and all her spinning gear!

The overall trip was so enjoyable, and I also was able to visit four yarn stores (a future blog post topic to watch for) and add to my stash by purchasing yarns produced locally in Nova Scotia, as well as in Maine.

Some say we attract to us the things we love, the things for which we are most passionate, and this trip could not be a truer testament of that philosophy.  The landscapes, people and places were what drew me to Canada.  The evidence of fiber arts throughout history and its survival today was just a tremendous amount of icing on an already delicious cake!

 

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