So Many Ways To Tell A Story

I have been thinking a lot recently about telling stories. Specifically, how many methods there are to tell them.

I tell mine through essays and blog posts.  Sometimes I try to let the photographs do the telling, with a few sentences for support.

 

I am hoping at the end of the summer to have a year's worth of photos capturing the seasons to make a photo book for myself.  Having discovered the self-caring qualities of self-portraiture, I would love to capture this evolution in a different book.

But since the fall, scrapbooking keeps whispering to me. I'm realizing that I want a method that combines text and images in a way that goes beyond the vertical and scrolling of a blog page.  Beyond the limited text that can be incorporated into a photo book. 

I want to use this sophisticated form of scrapbooking as way to journal. 

A different voice emerges from each medium, so why can't the story of a trip, for example, be told in a blog post, a photo book, and then again on a scrapbook page? 

The only real problem is how many hours there are in any given day to thoughtfully express ourselves in words, images, and scraps of handmade paper.  Far too few, in my opinion.

When I Have No Words

 

I think it is time to admit that I've been experiencing some sort of writer's block here.  It's as if I open my mouth to speak and no sound comes out.  

I don't know if it has something to do with an essay I have been struggling to write for a few months.  Sometimes when I am writing elsewhere, I can't write here, too.  

 

Momentarily this morning, I considered letting this space go, and it hasn't been the first time.  But even in the quiet times, even when I'm stuck, it's comforting to come here and kick around.

The fog excites me; maybe it provided inspiration for a few words and pics today.  Be back soon, I hope.

Shaping

The other day I was writing about an experience in my journal, describing how I responded at a family gathering when asked what I've been up to, how I've been spending my time.  I felt that I replied with more confidence than in the past, yet I struggled.  I gave myself a "B-" for my performance.

I was struggling to be true to myself and to explain to some extended family my time spent blogging, photographing, baking, training Charlie.  In the past I would have said, "oh, I don't know, I do this and that and the time before Olivia's school pick-up passes quickly."  I would have laughed and shrugged as a way of saying this conversation is over.

What I wrote in my journal is what I wished I had said:  "I write, I photograph, I bake, I take care of my dogs and Olivia, and through these pursuits I wander through my days trying to find meaning, hoping and striving to make connections."

When I answered my relatives, I wanted to account for the loss.  I wanted to say, have you forgotten it's only been a year and a half?  I needed to say that everything I put out into the world has Aaron in it.

The phrase, "wander through my days" startled me.  I understand it, I know why I do it, and yet it worries me.

It is simply where I am emotionally and have been since Aaron left.  I need a wide open space to explore creatively.  Write, photograph, bake, garden, paper craft.  A little structure is good, too much and I can't think or feel. I actively browse for meaning.

I need, however, to be shaping my finds.  Ever so gently.  Straight lines scare me right now, but I need a few for structure and support.  A few big trees in the meadow to lean my back against and take rest in the shade. Put up support beams in my house.

I tend to let myself wander until I am out of time, and then I look at the to-do list and declare myself a screw-up who needs a rigid schedule. A few weeks of a schedule and I remember how I dislike straight lines, and I break.

Wandering, exploring can be rich, but eventually a path (a curving one) needs to emerge and that's where I find myself presently.  I am going to give Susannah's workbook a try and see if it can provide some of that shaping I seek.  "Shaping" is my word for 2013, as in "yeah, it's really starting to take shape."

I hope that by next December this is how I will answer anyone who asks.

Creativity Calls

Every six months or so, I seem to have a need to put myself on a schedule.  Mostly, I think, it is an attempt to control my creative pursuits, marginalize them, in order to make time for the to-do list tasks and caring for my family.

I seem to never be fully on top of those, some I think of only at the wrong times, and then there are the tasks that I simply dread--phone calls to people I would rather not deal with, situations I cannot resolve, plans I am conflicted about.  I don't forget about these, I just avoid them until they become heavy, enormous and weigh me down with anxiety.

The hours while Olivia is at school pass quickly, and there is also the grief, the elephant in the room, that takes up considerable space and energy.  It's not yet been a year and a half.  What am I thinking, even worrying about schedules?   In my mind and heart I still have two to take care of.

The schedules I try out for a few weeks now and then don't stick.  They are too restrictive and I can't help but keep writing, or photographing the light as it falls just so on my kitchen table. Then I look up at the clock, gasp, grab my tote bags and run off to the Co-Op.

This week it began to dawn on me that I am chafing against imposed limitations, that I am bursting beyond my schedule.  I want to write, photograph, bake, play in the garden, arrange color all day long. This part of me is screaming to be taken seriously. 

On one level, this is about time management both creative and personal.  However, it is also about  the guilt I feel for the hours I spend writing or reading for an e-course.  The photo outing I took I consider a luxury, as I think of Mr. Savory at work.

I'm at a bit of an impasse currently, wrestling, even as I write this.  A few solutions have come to mind in the past days as I've read about time management and gained a few tips from interviews with "successful people".

I've read about Eat That Frog, and gave it a try this week.  What a relief!  I contacted a few people that I've been meaning to reach out to for a long time, and confronted some tasks that I was worrying about.

The premise of "Eat That Frog", originating from Mark Twain, is that you start your work day with the hardest, most dreaded, the likeliest item on your list to be procrastinated on, and do it first.  The rest of the day will seem easier and there will be a sense of accomplishment no matter what direction the remainder of the day takes. You can even set up what you need for your frog the night before so you are ready in the morning. 

I write after eating breakfast, but having picked out my frog to confront afterwards, is a good strategy for me that feels satisfying but not overwhelming.

When I put some questions out to my blogging mates about how they address their creativity time, one responded that for personal health reasons, she lets the creativity flow and doesn't hold back.  The word, flow, has run through me since.

For now, taking myself seriously means to keep writing and growing creatively. It means taking care of my family, enjoying each other, and gulping down a daily frog. 

Let it flow. 

Everything is Changing

Everything is changing, and I don't just mean the season. 

I refer to something subtle that begins internally until it can no longer be held inside.  A certain power, the acquiring of tools.

It started last Winter when encouraged by an online photography course, I left the safety of my kitchen and walked around my neighborhood, photographing.  I was incredibly self-conscious for months to come, but I kept doing it more and more often.

I felt liberated, and I fell in love with the exploration.  I suddenly had another way to tell a story; I had a new tool.

This doesn't mean I'm good at taking pictures, nor does it make me a photographer.  But a new tool to use opens up the world a bit.

I began walking down a new trail, one that did not loop back to my kitchen table.  Like having an affair (I imagine), I was swept away and didn't care about what I was leaving behind.

I was cooking, reading, baking, gardening just as much as ever, however, I had no interest in photographing any of it.  Most of the time I simply forgot.

I stopped reading food blogs as often, and pored over photography and creative personal blogs.  Yet, I kept on reading cookbooks and personal memoirs about food and gardening.

I'm now in the final week of an online blogging course, and I know for certain that I am not the same person I was since the day I first walked around the neighborhood with my camera.

Recently, I gained another tool, or at least a sharpened, pre-existing one.  I now touch a finger to my heart before I start writing a post.  During these weeks, on more than one occasion, I have sat up straighter, asked myself if I am tapping in to what I feel, deleted, and started over with a slightly different tone.

This doesn't mean I write well or even that I am a writer. Expertise takes a lifetime to develop.

I acknowledge, though, that I possess these tools.  I accept that at their most basic level, I know how to use them.  This is confidence I have never admitted to previously.  I have an internal power now, and for the moment, it is keeping me up at night!

I hope to come back with camera in hand to my kitchen table from time to time, but with different intent.

For once one has developed a mission statement, the whole perspective shifts.

Through photographs and stories, I want to share what I see and what I feel.  My aim is for my personal stories to be universal.

Thoughts On Being Social

I have something to admit to you. Something I slink away from that as a blogger I know I shouldn't.

I am not on Facebook or Twitter.

Does that shock you? Are you going to tell me that I really should be? Perhaps you're simply speechless.

I've been reading a lot about blogging recently, and this writer offers some tips.  It's not just this author and blogger, however, most places I go to learn more deem the use of social media as essential for building an audience.

At first, Facebook and Twitter seemed to me like more distraction from creative pursuits, namely writing. I do have a Twitter account that I set up so I could be on Pinterest. I'm not sure if that counts. I think Pinterest if fun, but I haven't done much with it in the past year because it's an incredible time guzzler, too.

What's Facebook?*

I swear I'm not anti-social and ultra-serious. It's just that in my down-time, I'd rather be knitting, reading, baking, gardening, or spending time with my family.

The real problem for me, though, is using social media for the purpose of self-promotion. I'm really a very shy person, and the idea of calling attention to myself in that way is contrary to my nature. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable.

I suppose if I stopped viewing it as promoting myself, and instead thought of it as an opportunity to promote Hearth Arts, that shift in perspective might help me. If I thought of it as making connections, and being part of a larger conversation, it might lighten my apprehension and seem more meaningful.

When we return home next week, this will be a subject for me to explore and find my comfort zone within.

I'd love to know your thoughts. Truly, I would.

*We found Charlie on the couch yesterday morning, and we couldn't resist putting a pillow under his head and spreading a cover over him!

Writing With Sunburned Feet

Hearth Arts is posting live from a cute little beach house in Cape May!  We had a beautiful beach day yesterday, with the three of us all in the water together at one point.

Last evening I took myself for a pre-sunset walk, meandering through little streets. I realized in that one walk I returned with images of the run-down, the Victorian, the charming and the colorful.  This is part of why Cape May never bores me.

This morning we have thunderstorms, and it is giving me the opportunity to sit down at our dining table and be here.  Being here is really the topic for today: writing and blogging while on vacation. 

I'm not alone in this; Mr. Savory is presently sitting on the couch with his laptop, getting in his writing hour.  We talked about how we would manage, keeping up with our goals while away.  Mostly, I look forward to seeing things from a different landscape and sharing what I find with you.

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I don't know if continuing here for the next two weeks is taking away from my vacation or enhancing it in some way.  I do know one thing, Cape May never steers me wrong.  If I let what I see and feel here creep into these posts, that can only strengthen me. 

It is empowering to feel that the writing is inside me, and it can be taken anywhere.  It's not rooted to my kitchen chair, at my spot at the table, in our Philadelphia home.

We Have A Lot In Common

I find it interesting sometimes to read about blogging from outside my corner of the blogosphere.

Mr. savory sent me a link to the blogging and social media sub-forum of a writer's forum he has joined. He warned me that you can get lost in the pages and pages of discussion topics, so I didn't spend more than about 30 minutes poking about various threads. Most of the bloggers seem to be fiction writers, but I didn't go deep enough to say that for certain. What strikes me is how much  a fiction writing blogger may actually have in common with a food or parenting blogger.

The same concerns of posting frequency, value of social networking, importance of photos and illustrations, and copyright, to give a few examples, are shared.

There is even a section where you can ask for reviews of your blog (scary!)

Among the discussions I read, most authors felt that "consistency is more important than frequency" in regards to posting. In other words, posting on regularly scheduled days of the week is more significant than the number of times a week you post. That way your readers know when to expect new material.

Bloggers meet this schedule by planning ahead (something I have yet managed to do!). For instance, some draft their next week's post on the weekend, so they have less to do during the week. Others simply write ahead, creating a savings account of posts, so they can slot posts in where they seem to fit best.

Quality over quantity is a priority to all. Facebook and Twitter are considered essential to bringing in traffic, but not more important than creating quality content.

Anyone can read the discussions on the forum, but you have to join to be able to post a thread or comment. I think I'll pop in every now and then to peruse the topics, but most of the bloggers I follow are so generous sharing what they have learned, that I feel I'm in pretty good hands.

Digging Deeper

I'm beginning my fourth and final week of posting five times a week.  I say final because I took a challenge and was fairly certain in the beginning that I would not continue this frequency after the four weeks.

It's been an interesting experiment, with some surprises along the way, and some suspicions confirmed.

In the suspicions department, I expected that writing five posts a week would simply be too much.  Too much it is, indeed.  I am a slow writer, and I go over everything many times.  Once photographs and recipes are involved, I'm running out of time.  Last night (Sunday), I did my fifth post for the week at 10:00pm.  I was nearly delirious after Olivia's birthday party weekend.  I woke up this morning thinking about how I might have done more with that post if I hadn't been so tired...

I do think there is something to be gained from pushing yourself to that point of discomfort.  New ideas can come from that resistance. It has forced me to sometimes forfeit a time-consuming idea (like making flatbread), and on the fly replace it with one that doesn't involve craft (like writing about travel guide books).  Both fit into the category of "what's inspiring me."

I went into this challenge with an open mind as far as the daily broad topics go.  I liked the idea from the beginning, but I still wasn't sure how I would feel once I really got into it.  Mostly, I feel like I'm excavating.  Digging down deeper to find what I really like to write about.

Maybe the biggest surprise of all is the fact that I feel like I am still exploring.  Perhaps that means my focus is changing.   I imagine that this is inevitable given the past year.

Assuming I make it through my five posts this week, my plan is to ease down to four posts.  If I still find that to be too much, I may...

A Place To Linger

For a number of months now, I have been following a blog that fills me with inspiration and awe.  It is unlike most of the blogs I read.

What I find there is beauty, quiet, and deep, deep honesty.

The photos are breathtaking and convey so much depth and emotion.  Their light and color speak as clearly as the author's words. 

Having written a bit about her cameras, Nadia upholds what every photography teacher tells their students:  the skill is in your eye, not in the sophistication of your camera.

I can only yet aspire to what I find on her site.  The ability and conviction to convey what she sees and feels on any given day, and to present the truth in her world as she experiences it.

If you need a respite in your splash and BBQ filled holiday, please, go take a look and linger.

Five Times a Week

Mr. Savory came upon a blogging challenge that some writers are doing for the month of May, and thinking I might be interested, he passed the link on to me.

Trying to give myself a few quiet, reflective weeks, I thought this is exactly what I don't need to spend time looking at right now.  After ignoring his email for ten days, I decided to take a look.

I was inspired by what he found and with some small changes, I am going to give it a try on my own.  The intent is to post five days a week for a month, using the subject prompts as a means to jump start a return to regular blogging.

The writer hosting this challenge intends to cut back to two or three days a week of posting when the challenge is completed. This seems ambitious, yet just about right to me.  Her broad subject prompts are what cinched the acceptance for me. Wanting to post more frequently, I often tend to think too specifically.

So, I'll be here a lot more starting next week, and after a month, I'll see how it makes me feel.  I am excited and relieved to have a bit of a plan!

Fever (Or What Happens When You're Home All Week With a Sick Child)

On days and weeks when I am housebound, and I feel like nothing is happening, I spend a lot of time online.

It's a little scary how much time can pass as I tell myself that I'll just look at one more link or search for one more thing. However, this week, and really more often than not, those hours bring in treasure of some kind

This week A. has been home sick with a virus. I knew it was a matter of time before the rest of us got some version of what he had. By Monday evening, I was achy and chilled, and slept poorly. Tuesday morning I woke up and wondered how I was going to get through the day taking care of him.

Slumped over my laptop at the kitchen table, I found my way to a very thorough and informative post on tips about food blogging. I worked my way through this list and all the links over the next two days.

Half inspired and encouraged and half wondering whether I should just close up shop, I don't think I can read any more about blogging for a while. However, I found all the ideas, suggestions, and links gave me plenty to think about. I believe they would be valuable to a blogger of any subject.

After two days of note-taking, I found myself back to thinking about what you do when you're waiting.

I haven't cooked or baked all week. Tuesday night I said I wanted a Chinese, brothy chicken soup. We picked up an order of soups, dumplings and sesame chicken. We haven't had take-out in so long, the menu looked yellowed.

Wednesday night Mr. Savory came home and said he was going to bed. He only wanted soup and nothing to clean up. O. walked into the kitchen and said she didn't feel well. I went out to the Co-Op for Carrot-Ginger Soup and Samosas.

All that reading about blogging and my week's circumstances had me thinking about my choices. I can spend the week thinking about what I can't do, and just wait until we all get back to normal. Second choice is to look a little harder at what has been influencing me in my state of achy cabin-fever.

I felt influenced to start going through closets. I have bags filled now by the front door to be taken to a clothing and fabric collection.

I am reluctant to touch the kitchen. That food mill I haven't used in years?--it's staying right in it's box on my shelf. However, I do find myself imagining the lightness of paring down, of not pushing unused gadgets aside every time I want my potato masher or cookie scoop.

Sunday's New York Times has had me dreaming of homemade soup. Maybe tonight or tomorrow night we could give one of these recipes a try, if Mr. Savory feels well enough to help with washing dishes.

The most recent Martha Stewart Living is the garden issue. I'm finding all sorts of project ideas in there. One in particular I hope to try next week for Bring in the Garden Friday.

The food blogging post reminds me that blogging is a juggling act, a balancing of a weekly newspaper column and a letter to a friend. That's the beauty and the challenge of the medium.

Not being a spin-on-a-dime kind of person, it takes me a few days to work through my frustration of not being able to carry through with my plans. Once I can pry myself away from the agenda, I can change my focus.

With that conflict resolved, everything opens up. I actually came away with a lot this week.

I hope this post finds you all well. We're starting to turn a corner here. Fever is gone, now it's all about the cough.

Waiting

When I consider blogging as a medium, a few words come to mind. Spontaneity. Flexibility. Immediacy.

Yet, over the past months, I have become more and more planned and scheduled about my posts. Planning and being very scheduled about things vs. showing up and writing about what is going on with me and us, and what, if anything, is inspiring me.

For a while, I was pleased with myself for planning out all my cooking, writing and photographing, until recently I hit some snags. Control became an issue. Suddenly I wasn't writing because I was waiting.

Waiting for an order of Graham Flour, so I can make some recipes from Good to the Grain. Waiting for us to eat up some cookies I was trying for Bring in the Garden Friday, so I can tweak the recipe and try them again. Waiting for us to savor our Valentine cupcakes.

There are only so many sweets a little family can have on hand at a time. (This is Mom talking).

Then, this morning I dropped off my knitting project at a tailor's. She is going to sew in a zipper for me. She said she'd give me a call in about a week. Diverted from this project (another future blog post postponed), I'll return to a pattern of stripes.

I have backed myself into a corner. Yet, if this page were a journal, I wouldn't wait for dessert to be eaten or flour to arrive. I'd just pick up my pen and write.

Now that I am forced away from my typical go-to subjects, here's what I see. The temperatures are milder, and will be increasingly so until it is nearly 70 degrees in a couple days. I am so glad to have a break from my old, not-so-pretty parka. Then, by the weekend, it will get cold again. There's talk of snow next week.

Harry has been so cute, sleeping in the sunshine on the steps outside our kitchen door. He's enjoying the weather, too.

Yesterday, I finally wrote a thank-you to my friend, Amy, who sent me her published book of poetry. It took me two months to make time to read it. Driving home yesterday from A.'s school pick-up, I realized some sort of space has cleared for me having written that note.

I don't know if it is space in my mind or heart, some relieved anxiety over worrying about responding to such a collection of work. I do feel like I was worrying about whether I would understand her poems enough to say something worthy.

In the end, I responded to her as a friend. I am not a poet. I made her a valentine and it was upside down. I sent it anyway. The sentiment was still the same as if it had been right-side up.

I bought a valentine card making kit, and I really enjoyed myself. O. asked me last night if I like crafting. I said I do, and this kit reminded me how years ago I was buying handmade paper to make my own cards.

I had forgotten how fun it is to play around with paper, tape and scissors, liberating really. I'll let you know when the Graham Flour comes in, and we are ready for more dessert, but in the meantime, I still need to write and take a look at what is around me.

It feels good to get out of the corner. Maybe this is where I felt the space clear.