Writing resolutions check-in

Besides writing I do participate in other creative activities - like seeing a wonderful art exhibit at LACMA called In Wonderland. 

This painting is by Frieda Khalo.

Time to revisit my 2012 writing resolutions (posted on January 1, 2012) and report how I’ve been doing.

First for the things I’ve accomplished.

• I participated in the January River of Stones project, writing a small stone every day of the month.
• I finished reading Doreen Cox’ Adventures in Mother Sitting and wrote and posted reviews for it. I overachieved in the review category, by finally writing and posting a review of Laura Mays Hoopes memoir Breaking the Spiral Ceiling: An American Woman Becomes A DNA Scientist.
• And I’m happy to report that my novel writing has gone very well. I’m writing a bit more than the one thousand words a week that was my commitment.
• I’m also writing a poem a week and writing my regular posts for NaturallySavvy and PsychAlive
• One of my best accomplishments of the month was finally, with the help of Ben and Marissa, my son and daughter-in-law, posting a three-minute interview up on Marla Miller’s Women Over 45 Speak website. They directed and produced the video perfectly.

However, I haven’t been so successful in a few other areas.

• I’ve fallen behind on posting every week on my Facebook poetry group pages, Poetry Pact and Poets. Writers, Photographers, Musicians, Artists ~ Networking Group – that is not to say I haven’t post at all. I’m averaging one every other week.
• But, I haven’t entered any contests or calls for publication yet; though just this day I submitted a piece for the Seven Sentences blog. Does that count? No, probably not.
• Also, I’m still weak in keeping up with other blogs – not that I’ve done no reading and commenting, just that I haven’t done enough.

So, not too bad for the first month. The main thing is that I’m writing and blogging a lot. And it’s all good.

The last January 2012 small stones

January 22

Dark gray clouds cover the roaring waves. I wonder why the surfers aren't riding them instead of taking them them one by one lying down.

January 23

Kristi's photo was posted on Putting a Face on Suicide today. She was just 19 when she took her life. I wish I could share her huge eyes, her smooth skin, her friendly closed-mouth smile with you. She was beauty. And even that couldn't save her from a drug addiction that sucked the life out of her.

January 24

I met an old friend this morning and within five minutes of talking she was in tears. She told me about her mentally ill daughter in yet another healing institution. She's been in nine since she was thirteen; she is twenty now. I hope my writing will inspire my friend to take good care of herself. Her daughter will have to find her own way.

January 25

I was so proud of myself last evening for being an advocate in getting a mentally ill young man some help. I was told at ten in the evening that he would be in good hands and not to worry. But this morning the news is that he is still in harm's way, in a jail cell naked wrapped in a quilt and not eating and drinking, and I don't know what else I can do about it. I have never felt so frustrated. Unfortunately this story is bringing back bad memories of my son's behavior and how he was treated during his bipolar days.

January 26

Every time I am in Pilates class I hear Jeffery's mantra: shoulders in your back pockets, slight curve in the small of your back, sway your heel out just a bit, feel yourself getting taller with each breath. And you know what? At that moment, I do feel myself getting taller. But in the end, I'm still as short as I ever was. Pilates is a great stretch and mobility and agility exercise, but it's not going to make this vertically challenged person grow.

January 27

Every day I wake up stiff and slow, yet move with vigor again by the end of my morning workout. Then after five or six hours at my computer, my old lady stiffness returns. Ginger's massage helped yesterday. I wish I could afford one everyday.

January 28

I walk through the women's surrealistic art exhibit and stop in awe in front of the wedding portrait of Frieda Khalo and Diego Rivera. She made him seem a giant next to her. Yet she was a giant among the women artists of her time. This was a woman who died much too soon.

January 29

I watched a video called "Get in Line (Behind Tricia)" while sitting at the bar at LACMA. The action by seventeen dancers dressed in dirty white hoody robes was slow. They maneuvered long wooden poles into triangular, rectangular, and square configurations over and over again. When they finished, they set the poles down on the wooden floor, took off their robes, and walked in a line dressed in tangerine-colored togas. I'm lucky that I didn't have to see all eight hours of it.

January 30

There she is again with another pair of workout shoes. Today they are dark gray with a red Nike swish, red laces, and white soles. This pair perfectly accentuates her little workout short-shorts in an abstract print of blacks, lime greens and reds. This woman's closet must have more shoes than Imelda Marcos'. I've seen her in a dozen pairs of workout shoes at least.

January 31

In celebration of my husband's success, I had some sips of wine last night after a 30-day hiatus. It was a nice red Syrah. It felt smooth and dry going down, but as usual, it didn't give me a buzz.

Writing Your Way Home

A River of Stones

More January small stones

January small stone month is almost over. I've managed to write one almost every day, only having to backtrack twice. Now I'm thinking of continuing the practice of paying attention and writing down what I pay attention to throughout the year.

Here are the stones I've written since I last posted them on January 9. For more information about this practice visit Fiona Robyn's website Writing Our Way Home.


January 10
My young friend sat at the dining room table and looked through the book of her baby pictures I had made for her. She smiled, she chuckled, she complimented the rad style she had even then. I've known this girl since she was 18 months old. She is now 18.

January 11

I'm at Putting a Face on Suicide again today, still wondering what goes through such beautiful young minds that tells them to kill themselves. These people are 14, 16, 19, 22 years old and have so much to live for. We must find a way to save these precious ones who should be so full of life.

January 12

I'm racing around today like a whirling dervish. First a workout, next grocery shopping, a quick breakfast, a shower, then get dressed, make the bed, straighten up the rest of the house, and now I'm here at my desk with only two and a half hours to work before I make our lunch salad and the  guests arrive. I am exhausted already. I need to drink my tea slowly and take a good deep breath.

January 13

Ben and Marissa made me go over my video lines over and over until I said them perfectly. I got so frustrated I even said oh, shit at one point which broke up the room. But after about a half hour of starts and stops I finally finished with the short three-minute piece. I certainly would never want to be an actor. Those guys have to memorize their lines every day and know how to say them perfectly. That is definitely not a profession for me.

January 14

I felt the chill down my backside from my waist to my calves as I trekked toward the beach this morning. My legs numb from the cold, they didn't want to move. Then intermittently the sun warmed my shoulders as I walked up the crest of the hill until, on my way down toward the sand, gusts of cold air blew and chilled me to the core again. 

January 15

The actress on the screen transformed herself from middle-aged to a tottering and demented old woman, and I believed her in every scene. 

January 16

I notice that my book club colleagues are not committed to coming to meetings. They find any excuse in the book. However, when one says her husband's appointment with the oncologist may preclude her attendance I take that seriously. Life and death issues are more important than eating and discussing a frivolous novel.

January 17

I bought a new little silver cube incense holder on Abbot Kinney last Saturday, and now I'm burning incense on my writing desk. The sweet smoke leaves the stick in a fine thread that dissipates as it reaches toward the ceiling. 

January 18

I tried to speak. I opened my mouth and tried to get a word out. But the woman across the table from me kept on talking, and talking, faster and louder, not even taking a breath, and I had to lean back, look interested, and swallow my thoughts down until I thought I would choke.

January 19

Every morning it's the same thing. I wake up and the first thing I do is grab my cellphone. I check my emails, I open my Facebook pages, I look at my blog, and go to Amazon to see if there are any ranking changes for my book . I can't do anything until that's done. It's like having a morning coffee fix.

January 20

I finished The Paris Wife today, and I wonder how this woman could bear for even one minute her husband's lover and how she invaded their lives and marriage bed. 

January 21

I feel an ache in my right groin, my upper thighs groan, and  my left little toe cries out to me to take off my shoe and smooth out my sock. but I spin on in class this morning. The background song, "Hurts So Good," sings just to me.

First small stones

I think my small stones this January are coming from all over the place - outside nature, outside events, inside my mind and thoughts, on my body. But I don't think it matters. Just so I pay attention for a bit of time and write down what I’m paying attention to. For example, I had to write today's stone about how I'm feeling because experiencing Denver's cold dry air for a couple of days played such havoc on my body. It is hard not to pay attention to it.

Here are my January 2012 River of Stones musings so far.

January 1

As the morning cold blows through my house like winter, my skin cannot bear my icy touch.

January 2

The trees stand like shadows against the morning fog, their branches dripping down dew.

January 2

Little Daniel was twelve when he took his life two years ago. I look at his face, all pure innocence, so young. His straight blond hair raggedly cut almost covers his eyes. Yet, there is a wiseness in him, in the way he looks so intent and focused. He makes me cry. I want to save him from his tragic fate. But, it is much too late.

January 3

I look out at the still, waning day. The palm trunks still wet with morning midst.

January 4

I read with tears about the death of the oldest Holocaust survivor and I marvel at his perseverance to survive and his love of family and life. I want to shout out his story to the world. We can all learn from it.

January 5

I’m sitting like a lump today, my head so close to my computer screen I can practically taste it. I’m aimless, lacking creativity and zest, so with that, I’m going to get up from this chair, take a little walk around the house, and sit back down and get back to work.

January 6

The plane is bouncing, that and its roaring engine noise and the giggling girls in the back make me uncomfortable and edgy.

January 7

I watch and listen to my great-niece Alyssa perform her Bat Mitzvah Torah portions and I remember my own almost fifty-nine years ago. I wore a navy blue shirtwaist dress trimmed in white with a little embroidered peter-pan collar. And coincidentally after Alyssa’s service my cousin gave me an old black and white photo of me in that dress.

Alyssa

January 8

The sun beams down on the snowy fir tree branches. It looks like a holiday greeting card outside today. Unfortunately, puddles are forming underneath already.

January 9

The cold dry high altitude air has made everything dry – my throat is scratchy, my skin itches, my eyes are red and runny, and my cuticles are peeling off in shreds. I’m glad to be back to my warm damp beach climate.

Small Stone Blogsplash – we need your help…

Kaspa and Fiona have taken over my blog for today, because they need our help. 

They are both on a mission to help the world connect with the world through writing. They are also getting married on Saturday the 18th of June.

For their fantasy wedding present, they are asking people across the world to write them a ‘small stone’ and post it on their blogs or on Facebook or Twitter.

A small stone is a short piece of observational writing – simply pay attention to something properly and then write it down. Find out more about small stones here.

If you’re willing to help, we’d love you to do things:

1) Re-post this blog on your own blog any time before June the 18th and give your readers a chance to hear about what we’re doing. You can simply copy and paste the text, or you can find the html here.

2) Write us a small stone on our wedding day whilst we’re saying our vows and eating cake, post it on your blog, and send it to us.

You can find out more about our project at our website, Wedding Small Stones, and you can also read our blog at A River of Stones.

We also have a July challenge coming soon, when we’ll be challenging you to notice one thing every day during July and write it down.

Thank you for listening, and we hope we’ll be returning from our honeymoon to an inbox crammed with small stones, including yours.

Kaspa & Fiona


Note from Madeline:
To refresh your memory, I took on the NaSmaStoMo small stone a day challenge last January. I'm definitely going to write a wedding small stone on June 18. Please join me.