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| Peony Abstraction |
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| Peony portrait |
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| Fragment, Moth Wing |
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| Rose |
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| Collage of debris |
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| Peony |
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
From the Garden...
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Vacation...
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| Arrangement on stone 5/22/2011 |
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| Scars, found field stone, 5/31/2011 |
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| Hosta, 5/31/2011 |
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| Lace and Spikes, leaf and burrs, 5/31/2011 |
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| Old Paint, 5/31/2011 |
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| The Red Stripe, field stone, 5/31/2011 |
My camera has been busy with finding things, I've uploaded hundreds of photos and have yet to go through all of them so I thought I'd post what I have found so far...
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| The Old Grind Stone, 6/1/2011 |
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| Abstraction, Field Stone, 6/1/2011 |
I've been spending lots of quiet time these days, much of it writing, my editing of Drinking From the Fishbowl is coming along, I'm passing through Part III, doing more tweaking to places here and there that felt a little bit at loose ends...I'm on that self-doubt see-saw again, you see. I do know it's a good story, but there's that uncertainty that goes along with that...it's a tug o' war. It is chock full of dreams and realities, all of it tightly linked within itself, and also bound with the other two novels that I've published so far and the one's that are not yet finished...it's been a long journey writing these books of mine, and I've loved every minute of it...it has felt good these last few days, sitting on my porch, enjoying the breeze on a hot day, working on words, being immersed in that other place where I go to write, I've been having a hard time getting there this past year since I finished The Fractured Hues of White Light, I have felt quite wrung out and needed to take it easy, but every visit to Fishbowl bolsters my confidence, it's coming into its own, I'm nearly finished...I expect that I will continue working on it throughout the summer months, making sure it's right. (It's what I do.)
Friday, May 20, 2011
One year later...
 Now a NOOK Book! | |
One year ago on May 21st, I released my second novel The Fractured Hues of White Light as a paperback original, and now, to celebrate this first year, my little-big novel is now available at Barnes & Noble as an ebook.
I gotta tell ya, it's a lot of work putting together the ebook is a process that I don't want to do again right away, but yet, I'm OCD enough to get a sense of pleasure picking around at the tiniest bits of code to make the reading experience on the Nook to be enjoyable. I spent most of the morning and dipped into the afternoon doing the finishing touches on the files and inputting data and clicking the right buttons to make the "magic" happen - my eyes are blurry and burning and my head is dizzy from looking at a computer screen so closely. As of an hour or so, it went live - so now more readers can love or hate it - it is such a see-saw existence being an author, and I will always welcome the good and bad criticism with grace. It's been a rewarding experience publishing my books, and although the second one hasn't been as well received as the first book (Dusty Waters) I understand as the author and publisher, that books are a subjective business, and not everyone is going to like what I do. John Steinbeck said it best of all:
"You know just as well as I do that this book is going to catch the same kind of hell that all the others did and for the same reasons. It will not be what anyone expects and so the expecters will not like it. And until it gets to people who don't expect anything and are just willing to go along with the story, no one is likely to like this book." (from Journal of a Novel: the East of Eden Letters, quoted from page 26, March 8, Thursday.)
Good and bad reviews go with the territory. I like to think that readers come to my writing because they are looking for something different, something unexpected, and to make this novel available for the Nook will make it accessible to new readers looking for something new and different - this is a happy day...
Synopsis:
The Fractured Hues of White Light is an emotional journey that explores who we love and why we love them. Mother, father, daughter, siblings, lovers, spouses, and friends; it’s all love in some form. It is a story about Samantha Ryder, a young autistic woman who is an artist; it is because of her handicap that she often fails to articulate her emotions with an appropriate demonstration. Ironically, the ‘normal people’ who surround her are just as incapable of communicating their feelings, creating a sense of isolation full of things left unsaid. Samantha’s uncanny artistic ability is limited to being a novelty after her father encouraged her to create miniatures of the greatest hits of art history for a wealthy clientele. For years, she has filled sketchbooks with drawings that she feels mean nothing, yet they mean everything. Within the abstract scribbles are the portraits of the people who she loves; the quirk of her disability is how she is very aware of the emotions of her loved ones. They love her with unconditional bonds that vary in degrees; her mother Lenore’s maternal nurturing is sorely missed after her death when Sammy was six. Her father, Whitley, is a possessive narcissist, but his heart is always in the right place. Memories of the protective love of her father’s stepson, Guthrie, filtered into her adolescent fantasies. Her half-sister, Helena, exhibits a lackadaisical tolerance and irritable impatience, yet offers a clinging-vine possessiveness in spite of herself. The lingering romantic feelings of her friend and former lover, Sylvester, manifest in his boundless patience; their continued friendship stands firm on a foundation of trust. When Samantha agreed to marry Preston Ackerman, she initially believed that she could learn to love him, but the empty bond between them causes her to emotionally lose ground. As their marriage falls apart, Preston becomes dangerous, forcing her to go on a journey of self-preservation away from the familiar security of home. Her escape threatens to be her undoing.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
I've started my 49th trip around the sun...
These are a collection of stones that I found amongst the pea gravel on my patio...there's something quiet and meditative about picking through these tiny stones and finding little treasures...my house is full of this stuff...they are currently sitting on the arm of the chair outside for future photos...
My birthday was on Monday...I'm good with the aging process, I can't really complain about it...I think I was more uptight about "growing old" when I was younger. Truth of the matter, I still feel like I did when I was nine-years-old...I felt like an old soul and I was still enjoying the wonder of a sunny day and the whole being alive thing...but there was this bit inside of me that just wanted to 'get on with it', I was impatient, there was something I wanted to do, but didn't know what it was...well...somethings haven't changed. I'm at a good place, I've written a few novels and I'm making art that I adore, I'm following my bliss as I should. Overall, I'm satisfied, and I know there will be more. I've come to realize recently while walking with my dog that I'm in a transitional time, again...I've been a little bit moody, a little bit achy, tired, and impatient...that old soul is making a fuss again I suppose. The only thing to do about it is to go with it...
Monday, April 25, 2011
Last years debris and a flower of hope...
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| Leaf Lace, 4/24/2011 |
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| Collage, 4/24/2011 |
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| Debris, 4/24/2011 |
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| Leaf Lace, fragment, 4/24/2011 |
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| Overlap, 4/24/2011 |
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| Lace, 4/24/2011 |
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| Old Lace, 4/24/2011 |
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| Stone, cracked, 4/24/2011 |
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| A little bit of hope... 4/24/2011 |
I know when I see the little white violets pushing through last year's debris that spring is here at last...as much as I love the colts foot, daffodils, and squill, the violets with their sweet scent take me back to times when I was very young, picking fistfuls of these for my mom in the woods behind our house, it was literally a carpet of violets out there, and the smell of them was overwhelming...I spent happy days surrounded by violets so I was very happy to find them here when we moved in...
I'm still focusing my little point n' shoot camera at the debris of leaves and bits of weeds...the pale lacy remains have been beautiful finds...
I've been slowly working my way through Part 2 of Drinking from the Fishbowl, this seems to be in better shape than Part 1, as I recall, it didn't require as much work before...and I believe Part 3 is also going to be relatively easy...which naturally makes me suspicious, so I know I'll back track backwards through the chapters, going line by line, paragraph by paragraph before too long...as I should before I publish it...I'm hoping not to overtax myself like I did while working on The Fractured Hues of White Light and Dusty Waters I've learned so many lessons with those two, this should be easier...should be. You'd think. The self-doubt demons have been nibbling at me again...challenging me...saying mean things...just when I'm convinced that the book is truly awful, I pick it up to work on it and realize there's nothing wrong with it, it's fine, it has it's voice, it has a solid story, the characters have something to say...so I will continue with my leisurely pace, picking away at it, taking my time to make it right...
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
April Showers...and wind...
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| Collage #1, 4/15/2011 |
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| Collage #4, 4/15/2011 |
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| Collage #2, 4/15/2011 |
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| Collage #3, 4/15/2011 |
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| Colts foot, 4/15/2011 |
I've had a "time"...I was hiked into the ER by my Fred on Friday night (4/15) because I had a very bad pain in my lower right side that wrapped around to my lower back, which was accompanied by sciatic nerve pain that I was already dealing with all week...yes, it was VERY bad, and it was a bit scary. It was determined that I might've had an ovarian cyst burst...tho' my sonogram was described as "unremarkable"...well, of course it would if the darn thing already burst and went on its way by the time you took a looky-loo with the wand...these things happen, but there will be follow-ups to the follow-ups and double check with this one, call that one... cover all the bases, cross 't's' dot 'i's'...enough already...no one really knows or can really explain to me what happened to cause the pain. I'm okay now, still a bit crampy there in the right side, still gimping around with sciatic nerve pain, but nothing like that night...I was released that night and tucked into my own bed by midnight, although I know it wasn't much ado about nothing because it hurt like the devil, it certainly feels like it now...it's a mystery to me what's going on under the hood...
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| Crouching Tigger-Hidden Pooh revisiting the barn, pondering faint memories of being very wee once, and now he is a very tubby tabby, 13 years young... |
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Spring debris collages...
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| Pale Lace, 4/9/2011 |
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| Layers, 4/9/2011 |
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| Grace #2, 4/9/2011 |
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| Grace #1, 4/9/2011 |
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| Collage, 4/10/2011 |
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| Dried Grass, 4/9/2011 |
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| Feather and Burdock, 4/9/2011 |
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| Overlap, Pale Leaves, 4/9/2011 |
It was a busy week...we were on TV Monday to promote the CNY Art Showcase...it was awesome and awful at the same time, hard to explain, but one becomes grateful for having grace under fire. It was what I expected and yet not, but overall it was a good experience. The auction itself went off on Friday, and again, another good experience, we met more local artists (some new to the fundraiser), and it was nice to see people excited about the art, and it's nice to see it all together in one room...and it pleased me to see my drawing, Lumina #2 go to a young woman who seemed very pleased with her acquisition...it was sweet, her smile was priceless. I didn't get to meet the person who acquired my photo of the rose, I thought I saw it go out the door under the arm of a gentleman buyer...
I'm glad we've gotten past this busy time and I'm looking forward to some down time, I need to get back to a rhythm of life that encourages creativity...with the warmer weather coming in, I'll spend time sitting in my favorite porch sitting chair with my manuscript of Fishbowl, read, edit, rewrite, and get it ready to publish...and of course, working in my garden is the place where I do much of my creative thinking, and maybe, just maybe, I can work on something new...
Sunday, April 3, 2011
April at last...
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| Abstraction, 4/2/2011 |
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| Early April, collage, 4/2/2011 |
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| Pale Leaf, 4/2/2011 |
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| Leaf on Stone, 4/2/2011 |
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| Overlapping Debris, 4/2/2011 |
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| Chives, old and new, 4/2/2011 |
I'm working on Fishbowl again, reading through Part I, tightening up things here and there, last time through I was taking out parts that were bugging me, reworking them, putting them back, and now I'm working out any ragged edges that were left behind. I found one in chapter 11 yesterday afternoon, I nearly pitched the whole chapter out of frustration, but after some thought, I didn't...I'll need to think it through a little more...problem solving, it's what I do, and I know that what I make of it will be just right...it feels good to be writing.
Tomorrow morning, my Fred and I are going to be on television (WSYR Ch 9, "Bridge Street" 10-11AM) promoting the CNY Art Showcase, the auction is on Friday...it should be fun.
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