Digressions

Try Again Tomorrow

/ Lisa / Leave a comment

I’m listening to a song called ‘Try Again Tomorrow’ by Audiomachine. It’s on my Creativity playlist on Spotify and it was the first one to start playing when I decided to come up with something to write about today. The title made me smile because, wow, what a temptation. Isn’t that the easy way out? Every photo here is a way I have found to put writing off lately.

I’ve been waiting for the next story to show up and tinkering in the meantime with what I call ‘snippets’. Little moments of dialog that a character is whispering to me occasionally. I don’t know what her story is yet but she has an intriguing voice and an even more intriguing question.

A visit to the rose gardens in Portland, Oregon

I’ve also been waiting for an idea to write about here that isn’t something I’ve already shared. I mean, it’s not like my life is fascinating and full of adventure to blog about.

So maybe I will try again tomorrow.

Except, putting things off is becoming an excuse. Which is why I laughed a little when the song started playing. All writers know if you want to write, you need to put your butt in the chair. Waiting for the muse rarely works as well as creating a routine and working on something, anything, to prime the pump.

A walk in the woods.

So what have I been working on? I’m learning to make journals. My excuse is that I’m still working with stories in a way, hands on paper, with just the pen missing. And the words. Also, the daydreams.

Last weekend I chatted with my son’s partner and she was telling me about a story she’s writing. We had so much fun talking about characters who suddenly decide they are going to take off on their own path and leave us following. It made me miss the excitement when that happens. Or when you are so sucked into the story that the world disappears until you suddenly come up for air and realize the whole day has also disappeared.

Driving to work this week, I thought about how long it’s been since I posted here. I don’t think I’ve had enough time lately to spend in my mind, if that makes sense. Too busy, too many changes, too many worries. Daydream time has been put off until tomorrow. Or the next day. Or next week. You know how it is when life gets busy and luxuries get forgotten along the way.

I don’t want to force a new story before it’s ready to come into the world. No premature book babies. I’ve learned that never turns out well. But I’m starting to feel antsy and missing writing, which is a good sign. I think the kettle of cold water is beginning to simmer.

So what song is playing now? ‘On the Nature of Daylight’ by Max Richter. One of my favorites on the Creativity playlist. But I think I’ll skip ahead to ‘I’ll Meet You Halfway’ by the Partridge Family, one of those guilty-pleasure songs you’re embarrassed to admit you still love to sing along to. And then I’ll put my butt in the chair. Maybe. Or maybe tomorrow. It’s getting kind of late in the day…

How to Outsmart a Cat

/ Lisa / 4 Comments

Invader Zim, Ruler of the Universe (Zim for short) came to us as a tiny kitten found in the woods with his mother and promptly named by our son after a cartoon character. He is now around fifteen or so, and refuses to live in comfort in the house. He will come inside, but only if the door is left open. Because we live where it snows, my husband built him a box on the porch that has a heat lamp, bed, and even a small window.

He also has a cat perch where he loves to sit and look in our living room window. My husband says we are his fishbowl and he likes to sit there and watch our activities. I think it allows him to be part of the family without being inside.

The thing is, he has my husband trained and unfortunately, my husband’s recliner is right next to the window and the perch. Zim waits patiently until he sits down and finally gets comfortable, and then bangs his head on the window. Not gently, not a polite knock, but a bang that you can’t ignore. I don’t know how he hasn’t ended up with brain damage. Zim, not the husband. Although, who knows. Because it drives my husband nuts.

Zim bangs when he wants food. When he wants cream. When he wants my husband to come outside and sit with him. And my husband is very well trained. Plus he has a finely developed sense of guilt so he can’t just sit there reading while Zim whacks his head on the glass.

So this weekend we moved all the furniture in the living room. Completely swapped the whole thing so that the recliner is now next to a window that does not have a porch or a cat perch and is not where Zim can see the husband. I wondered how many people rearrange their whole house to accommodate a cat that doesn’t even live inside. But it gave my husband peace of mind and allowed me to deep clean before winter.

So we outsmarted the cat.

For one evening.

Zim can no longer see us so he has started yowling. Loudly. For me, it’s no big deal as I can just take out the hearing aides. For my husband, with acute hearing and that guilt complex, he’s back to jumping up to get cat food.

Zim, ruler of our universe, has prevailed.

Creativity in Driftwood

/ Lisa / 2 Comments

Last week my husband and I took a vacation to the Oregon coast. We like to go there during low tides or after storms to look for agates and rocks of all sorts. We hadn’t been in a long time and we both were very in need of a break. Plus, this was our dog’s first road trip to the ocean.

On one of our walks we saw a young man building a structure out of driftwood. He was busy digging a large hole in front of the structure, tossing out sand and oblivious to our passing.

We see people doing things like this with driftwood, typically building a simple pile of sticks for kids to play in, or to sit in while they have a small fire. But the things this young man built were different. For one thing, there were several of them along the beach. For another, they were complicated. Good sized, intricate, wood woven into arcs and organic shapes, and clearly more like artwork than just playing around building a camp.

On top of that, we noticed other things as we walked in the vicinity. Closer to the waves there was a simple circle of stones, already getting covered in sand. There was a slender piece of driftwood upright in the sand, decorated. I took a photo, which is below, but you can’t really see the details. There were feathers, shells, pieces of beach grass, and stones decorating the wood. I felt uncomfortable after I took the photo, as if I’d gone into someone’s church during service and started snapping pictures.

My husband spotted a ring of sand. It may have been a hole originally, like the one we saw the young man digging. But the tides and waves left only a hint of what had been, and left patterns of movement in the sand that showed what change looked like. It was like a subtle reminder that nothing remains constant.

I’ve been thinking about those structures since we got back. Why was the young man building so many? Why did he build them at all? Did he see them as transitory art, or were they just something to do with the things he found on the beach? Did he want people to use them? Did he sit back later and watch the afternoon crowds and how they interacted with his creations? Or was he, too, transitory, and moved on without looking back?

That led to more questions. I wondered if people saw the creativity, or just saw camps. I wondered if people respected them, or destroyed them. Did kids play in them and dream adventures? Did homeless people sleep in them at night?

So many possibilities. So many stories.

I wonder if that young man knew he would make imaginations soar? I hope so.

Oh, and Corbie loved the beach. The picture below is him with the wind blowing his ears up. He was the most well-behaved dog we have ever traveled with and we made sure to pay attention to what sticks he played with.