tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-325434612023-11-16T03:18:59.528-08:00Brooklyn Literary Chitlin'Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-41919822059431662482012-04-29T10:07:00.001-07:002012-04-29T10:17:38.298-07:00The Art of Staying the Course by Leona Beasley<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSxnyOyU6E6BaD7vF8w1IZWpaHTxHi_TvEO165pW-ZPCN6PKr1thFPWLzmef4ZHD5350O8PNXYOKqPz6PJ74cnFXqsjn5YbjectK4Nsxs5VcA8pTEKwGAJ1qtAWJZSjx3Xenh/s1600/IMG_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSxnyOyU6E6BaD7vF8w1IZWpaHTxHi_TvEO165pW-ZPCN6PKr1thFPWLzmef4ZHD5350O8PNXYOKqPz6PJ74cnFXqsjn5YbjectK4Nsxs5VcA8pTEKwGAJ1qtAWJZSjx3Xenh/s320/IMG_0008.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graffiti on St. Paul's Ct & Park Ave, Bklyn</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I struck out to write a novel I had no idea it would take me over seven years. I say seven years because I can’t bear to tell you an exact number plus its nobody’s business so I’ll leave it at that.*<br />
<br />
Three times over these seven plus years I thought I’d completed the manuscript only to discover it needed more work. The last year I completely overhauled it, slashing and burning at least one hundred and fifty pages, which I then systematically rewrote with one lead character in mind not three.<br />
<br />
I was able to do this rather efficiently because I worked with a very special person I call my writing doula. She calls herself a writing coach. Throughout the course of the year she offered up being a sounding board, a hand holder, a swift kick in the butt artist, and a reality check maven.<br />
<br />
Here are the facts—writing is hard, grueling work. The act itself is not pretty. It messes with your mind, threatens your sanity and in general lessens your social skills. That is unless you consider drinking alone in the back of a dusty bar on a Wednesday afternoon a social skill. The thing that has to be done is to stay with the work so you can finish the work.<br />
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This may sound a little like psycho mumbo jumbo—a silly platitude—stay with the work. Don’t give up! It may be corny but I assure you it’s true.<br />
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Years ago I read Anne Lamott, “Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.” It changed my understanding about what it means to be a writer. In it Ms. Lamott talks about the shitty first draft, and the importance of telling the unvarnished truth. She goes on say the actual act of writing turns out to be the best part.<br />
<br />
Presently, my novel is in the hands of an agent, and with a two others reading an excerpted chapter. It’s has been a month and everyday I check my email several times a day, hoping I’ll win the writer’s version of the lotto—hearing back from an agent or publisher.<br />
<br />
I’ve written a shitty first draft of my second novel, but I haven’t been able to concentrate on editing it. I have to get cracking. I really don’t think it will take me seven plus years. Its important for me to remember being mired in the muck of the work is the best part. Anne Lamott said so and I believe her.<br />
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(* You only tell the real number of years after there is success. As in, folks are buying your novel and NPR calls.)Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-6464540470321117212012-04-27T09:37:00.000-07:002012-04-29T10:21:20.213-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB2If7X-7aptZGyNNH8hM6DY8TRmWUmA9T6RACaGyw0NdbPZut_xs8iaJv6PNXF-6b058qLRckLSANMV-seFZs-LHSVyyRUOjqh2bxna7fDr-TUmDly6ggIYb41bXCaYeZRpsX/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB2If7X-7aptZGyNNH8hM6DY8TRmWUmA9T6RACaGyw0NdbPZut_xs8iaJv6PNXF-6b058qLRckLSANMV-seFZs-LHSVyyRUOjqh2bxna7fDr-TUmDly6ggIYb41bXCaYeZRpsX/s200/IMG_0004.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
On a walk in my new Brooklyn neighborhood I spotted this sight.Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-80221482942947835732011-04-01T11:51:00.000-07:002011-04-01T12:12:40.080-07:00Views of the Hudson River from my front window March 2011The skies have <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNJRBOV-14kLTFs_imkolQyj1G3GuLvrbv60NOzuUeMhKdOl9_MuIOwP3NP9bndzxarKCAoRYh7xRt39IS_22pgd3sEo_lEzSSmYuuwGE_ul_-wA0GND5qIyyfWY5_Y54-IBd/s1600/DSC05953.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNJRBOV-14kLTFs_imkolQyj1G3GuLvrbv60NOzuUeMhKdOl9_MuIOwP3NP9bndzxarKCAoRYh7xRt39IS_22pgd3sEo_lEzSSmYuuwGE_ul_-wA0GND5qIyyfWY5_Y54-IBd/s200/DSC05953.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590691398934223762" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEZtn0EGVls1GH4dF1LTv2Fh63YpzRVsdKmHsczO9ge56Mp460hPOkuiVKNwnSRE9t4SGLMnCee3kw9mMviQBbE8Kc6G9nM_CstaIcah3ZNVVLXCj5Y5_0ilhSZ2nBbSJnxT-/s1600/DSC05954.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEZtn0EGVls1GH4dF1LTv2Fh63YpzRVsdKmHsczO9ge56Mp460hPOkuiVKNwnSRE9t4SGLMnCee3kw9mMviQBbE8Kc6G9nM_CstaIcah3ZNVVLXCj5Y5_0ilhSZ2nBbSJnxT-/s200/DSC05954.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590691338663371906" /></a><br />painted <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XQVxUfhmvwJEoUXsBPNa1rYCTUV2Egt-jW6mHRTuzcOf7XWKS7PAuqfTMi_hQ-ZbsGJ6zJ4BImBydI4yxemQA3jpy8AsiJiQoCL5PMh9bT9AANLZVqiXQWUWH_nVgZAhrIIj/s1600/DSC05955.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XQVxUfhmvwJEoUXsBPNa1rYCTUV2Egt-jW6mHRTuzcOf7XWKS7PAuqfTMi_hQ-ZbsGJ6zJ4BImBydI4yxemQA3jpy8AsiJiQoCL5PMh9bT9AANLZVqiXQWUWH_nVgZAhrIIj/s200/DSC05955.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590691204799397042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbvC0blZzoafalfouS611RKZxvOQNQEbSXuw0O4CCySWK2_A2Zcngw2IBZRAtpSofN0JQSa8T7wl2r396XfWjUq8H9ikgZbnkuMYvPNfgh_y7akGZodXIvU_A5iHQSeM-bomY/s1600/DSC05956.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLbvC0blZzoafalfouS611RKZxvOQNQEbSXuw0O4CCySWK2_A2Zcngw2IBZRAtpSofN0JQSa8T7wl2r396XfWjUq8H9ikgZbnkuMYvPNfgh_y7akGZodXIvU_A5iHQSeM-bomY/s200/DSC05956.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590691092945014082" /></a><br />themselves<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUa9ffdDMBdLVcH1FpgfMUB6g8mnafKwpYsJ3DtZ2o4fSDbhy7DafbXy7l3VPpdDtOLYsM5maU3-N6TDzd5HuKKnw7jzA-nH7JpxA4TFfuSbdNwq3RJZChXdS_gCEkdtgWEXE/s1600/DSC05957.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUa9ffdDMBdLVcH1FpgfMUB6g8mnafKwpYsJ3DtZ2o4fSDbhy7DafbXy7l3VPpdDtOLYsM5maU3-N6TDzd5HuKKnw7jzA-nH7JpxA4TFfuSbdNwq3RJZChXdS_gCEkdtgWEXE/s200/DSC05957.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590690977005822802" /></a><br />for me,<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgTovfJqGZ_ZD8YoTe7gKbkKdP4ipLObz5isb3uMmLLXtyL-lBRNwBbB4L6PnjcrYju0aP387IbVmQZbIonYzQm9EmJDdZM-Rn-GoZeAYVwqr6ZJT9a48ZtGcRY4NjKEygYT5/s1600/DSC05958.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgTovfJqGZ_ZD8YoTe7gKbkKdP4ipLObz5isb3uMmLLXtyL-lBRNwBbB4L6PnjcrYju0aP387IbVmQZbIonYzQm9EmJDdZM-Rn-GoZeAYVwqr6ZJT9a48ZtGcRY4NjKEygYT5/s200/DSC05958.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590690902451461778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZTj7sWqb6LNQuOx5tj1ACQ8tJScGMHmXYc0TSGi1ABipebpbqe8mKafyff2XMg92GtE3UGSJg1E6BscpRmuQwbykNy6XJNuHVqYMOTf-YcMHEYaBbEfIA3jEz1mECuQm-boK/s1600/DSC05959.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZTj7sWqb6LNQuOx5tj1ACQ8tJScGMHmXYc0TSGi1ABipebpbqe8mKafyff2XMg92GtE3UGSJg1E6BscpRmuQwbykNy6XJNuHVqYMOTf-YcMHEYaBbEfIA3jEz1mECuQm-boK/s200/DSC05959.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590690825996254050" /></a><br />and <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Hfs7O9NUfaSEsxc-1NFfHv4sYkj3uDnVXld_IjP48CbyIQfVvQyJO4ml_sfOPuaeB2UVm-_fF3Bns8sifvHfZdwNRYK0A4YbmpMT3v0ibLi68p0hffBWVtFFPfCBEgX5LCCZ/s1600/DSC05960.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Hfs7O9NUfaSEsxc-1NFfHv4sYkj3uDnVXld_IjP48CbyIQfVvQyJO4ml_sfOPuaeB2UVm-_fF3Bns8sifvHfZdwNRYK0A4YbmpMT3v0ibLi68p0hffBWVtFFPfCBEgX5LCCZ/s200/DSC05960.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590690733851231650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v4WnQEXfxXDHUjgGKriMZrR1pCcQZ07ZIY363bV3lTwYq23pKGnHPhKm9NlKasb4Fp7TL-czwtShyphenhyphensGvQl81VNbk3NAyrvem_kL9Ma188Xij8X7BRlqDUaSIXqpb8Sm1CyQh/s1600/DSC05961.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v4WnQEXfxXDHUjgGKriMZrR1pCcQZ07ZIY363bV3lTwYq23pKGnHPhKm9NlKasb4Fp7TL-czwtShyphenhyphensGvQl81VNbk3NAyrvem_kL9Ma188Xij8X7BRlqDUaSIXqpb8Sm1CyQh/s200/DSC05961.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590690646565977170" /></a><br />I humbly<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yViSk5devH375W7uRDPVzGqO_lt8didFGqtQgf76iYwoYJiTLz-lRRBSyk6wbZ1U_0jc_xYyvHw9uLcGpm3ABYHVFc2l3ObjoQnO3ur9D1egVt-HvuK03U5q-8353aSsLQ45/s1600/DSC05963.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yViSk5devH375W7uRDPVzGqO_lt8didFGqtQgf76iYwoYJiTLz-lRRBSyk6wbZ1U_0jc_xYyvHw9uLcGpm3ABYHVFc2l3ObjoQnO3ur9D1egVt-HvuK03U5q-8353aSsLQ45/s200/DSC05963.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590690455049922450" /></a><br />accepted <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhg3rz6-THQA2gIGcJfJtgDAvFf9qZyqO7QWropyWU4JjEM0EljxyfMHuoGrph8YzC4ETVxf3U-Ea2ZI17ckpTBKKzPphRoB8hqWSJx4iwEu5eM-HAJdb3t0FNY42M3NbXD1jZ/s1600/DSC05964.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhg3rz6-THQA2gIGcJfJtgDAvFf9qZyqO7QWropyWU4JjEM0EljxyfMHuoGrph8YzC4ETVxf3U-Ea2ZI17ckpTBKKzPphRoB8hqWSJx4iwEu5eM-HAJdb3t0FNY42M3NbXD1jZ/s200/DSC05964.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590689972855332930" /></a><br />their artistry.Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-55561837491786480262011-01-07T10:11:00.000-08:002011-01-07T10:24:26.438-08:00The Creativity of the Non-Resolution by Leona Beasley<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQlIMmZ3HRCZVXvy0HS9ygmexV0dXPADtOX_TGivhIxwFykDLbXWiPuNXrX5HrANFAIv4Dalrdjr6-9wmrq-M3lneW3Fu853BnzLf1988DvYgtIjpncddU-iJj9fVFnK6hGSZq/s1600/Snowy_Sunset.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQlIMmZ3HRCZVXvy0HS9ygmexV0dXPADtOX_TGivhIxwFykDLbXWiPuNXrX5HrANFAIv4Dalrdjr6-9wmrq-M3lneW3Fu853BnzLf1988DvYgtIjpncddU-iJj9fVFnK6hGSZq/s200/Snowy_Sunset.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559510795191203266" /></a><br /><br /><br />I don’t like New Year’s resolutions, therefore I don’t make them.<br /><br />I do however like to set and reach goals. Perhaps my words are semantics in action.<br /> <br />New Years’ resolutions seemed attached to guilt and fear. Somewhere between: Oh my Gawd I haven’t...to How in the world do I learn to… <br /><br />You’ve failed all year to do that thing you’ve most wanted to accomplish. Perhaps you’re wanted it for many years, even a decade. <br /><br />And at the end of, or beginning of the New Year—now—Now is the time to make it stick. NOT!<br /><br />So I make unpressured goals. Something fun. Something that even if I only sprinkle a few drops throughout my day, weeks, months and years, I’ll experience movement, and change—I’ll get something new. <br /><br />My goal is to actively play with creativity, to make it my friend and go on dates with it. To spend unbridled and designated time where I go out in the world and experiences things I love (like movies, museums and poetry and fiction readings). <br /><br />Or try things I’ve only thought about in passing, like take a cooking class, a wine tasting and pairing class, or bird watch with nature geeks.<br /><br />I want to creatively try things I can’t imagine presently. In this understanding I plan to be open to new experiences, be game to see and feel the un-imaginable; To boldly go where no man (no woman) has ever gone. <br /><br />Okay took that line from Star Trek’s opening credits; still it drives home the image of trying something new.<br /><br />Living creatively is the goal I want to accompany me this year and to infinity and beyond.<br /> <br />I love Buzz Light Year.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpIQugqzMcT5215raUQ106lK4ZSD9vtYn7e5FsTgtBMdUIScCkbfp9oQAEtrY_zPeI5AdzC8ZheuUCfMZhtD9H5umAH1Lk6D-UmADjMz3kNvWYonJkv7CRbFULsLiukXYkG0F/s1600/Night_light.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpIQugqzMcT5215raUQ106lK4ZSD9vtYn7e5FsTgtBMdUIScCkbfp9oQAEtrY_zPeI5AdzC8ZheuUCfMZhtD9H5umAH1Lk6D-UmADjMz3kNvWYonJkv7CRbFULsLiukXYkG0F/s200/Night_light.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559511435989142642" /></a>Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-76366271916264745782011-01-06T06:56:00.000-08:002011-01-06T07:09:10.676-08:00Views of the Hudson River from my front window Jan 2011<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzezvppUOjhrrfsrVTrJBVlnSPf07U0nrBZYxp5xkjhP3XBz4EyCopo8ra1thyphenhyphenE1NwvV6zxhU3uxPRBK_7yq05p16FP42SBnQgFI6pT7J5dPsaJWdtjAHBHn_WuCpb2Du3ol64/s1600/DSC05777.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzezvppUOjhrrfsrVTrJBVlnSPf07U0nrBZYxp5xkjhP3XBz4EyCopo8ra1thyphenhyphenE1NwvV6zxhU3uxPRBK_7yq05p16FP42SBnQgFI6pT7J5dPsaJWdtjAHBHn_WuCpb2Du3ol64/s200/DSC05777.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559088924191029906" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_J3FOQscLelf9b2ZvVpoBacxzH1bQvRDFDTFRUUFGwkMGWz341M1I7grH9-cr032hzI20-2YzcldLyF4P-kHVSQ349oW-koYLjS7rdWeqnE-PNrLtuDuG-S6fyFaYy0Bc3FrF/s1600/DSC05778.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_J3FOQscLelf9b2ZvVpoBacxzH1bQvRDFDTFRUUFGwkMGWz341M1I7grH9-cr032hzI20-2YzcldLyF4P-kHVSQ349oW-koYLjS7rdWeqnE-PNrLtuDuG-S6fyFaYy0Bc3FrF/s200/DSC05778.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559088854589593026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKalBo4p1NjuNzsy7GuVGN1L4-n1JRzt2tFmrOXuTQnhNnWiiNIYk5sx0mFeniFXb9F9nB2w8yUuOB4Jp9eSJF-_aS6bCMdsACO5E6fDyRfIpHOcJE3ci89HZIeZZiNwU_zhup/s1600/DSC05779.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKalBo4p1NjuNzsy7GuVGN1L4-n1JRzt2tFmrOXuTQnhNnWiiNIYk5sx0mFeniFXb9F9nB2w8yUuOB4Jp9eSJF-_aS6bCMdsACO5E6fDyRfIpHOcJE3ci89HZIeZZiNwU_zhup/s200/DSC05779.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559088724801255970" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDC5_i1SrIxC9HWMAQnpQi89LzCZH_a2IY_ex2h1_BtR41ENMx6ZDB0Lo7qLWqI6bPSUdACQcXElZx27Kk6vtx0QYBIbVqiE1_Ff0JR7rLqJcQCVYJkn9c6VHvnrknn_Lq5LDi/s1600/DSC05780.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDC5_i1SrIxC9HWMAQnpQi89LzCZH_a2IY_ex2h1_BtR41ENMx6ZDB0Lo7qLWqI6bPSUdACQcXElZx27Kk6vtx0QYBIbVqiE1_Ff0JR7rLqJcQCVYJkn9c6VHvnrknn_Lq5LDi/s200/DSC05780.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559088611403311650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4z8BtEha6aZpgdyPEgX5vzczMYFh5TVy4gnW7Rd26p2gJkZ05QlLdV48T3YwHzAoBC_b-ZKFJHr9pkUUgiDw9V3zlYeSdlNxX4ZKFswL3TzP0Z0IVA0w9tIiGhcDeQhDQ4lIn/s1600/DSC05782.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4z8BtEha6aZpgdyPEgX5vzczMYFh5TVy4gnW7Rd26p2gJkZ05QlLdV48T3YwHzAoBC_b-ZKFJHr9pkUUgiDw9V3zlYeSdlNxX4ZKFswL3TzP0Z0IVA0w9tIiGhcDeQhDQ4lIn/s200/DSC05782.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559088393459549138" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi111H1a8c2VPvLE4VM0rSe9bHHaICHiG8wCUqLoqVz8zHbE_sULNpcmXgQ9QdKslU5QMsYXdwKLOO29yqibXE0oa06sG3NToJb5wy_Djv1s0WZBOT-elSGY9mMYp_sizIIi0KL/s1600/DSC05784.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi111H1a8c2VPvLE4VM0rSe9bHHaICHiG8wCUqLoqVz8zHbE_sULNpcmXgQ9QdKslU5QMsYXdwKLOO29yqibXE0oa06sG3NToJb5wy_Djv1s0WZBOT-elSGY9mMYp_sizIIi0KL/s200/DSC05784.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559088293884279874" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-93-mrmA3Z7wFvyAQkGNouPXMviTcoT1HkwHh4gL5pGQy0dJvEOVEboMV8A8ziTu4Uc3Ru_DVBZhS1mHe_21gB3iGq3Zx2KPcgZ8mI8O3ph1XVQrYkg72Di6NynYiR0W2_TBY/s1600/DSC05785.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-93-mrmA3Z7wFvyAQkGNouPXMviTcoT1HkwHh4gL5pGQy0dJvEOVEboMV8A8ziTu4Uc3Ru_DVBZhS1mHe_21gB3iGq3Zx2KPcgZ8mI8O3ph1XVQrYkg72Di6NynYiR0W2_TBY/s200/DSC05785.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559088183666228242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80K9jmkThitpBm_AKfppuFHhsJaoQyaCjaW4l45lVEsmvg2RZB4495XSAAY_wke5kX_LCMpiLq1lZIqnPYa-6YXwedtqGPHdxovhFJ1NLi1J1gNS7yhqH0GmFbyqtkc04NrrO/s1600/DSC05776.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80K9jmkThitpBm_AKfppuFHhsJaoQyaCjaW4l45lVEsmvg2RZB4495XSAAY_wke5kX_LCMpiLq1lZIqnPYa-6YXwedtqGPHdxovhFJ1NLi1J1gNS7yhqH0GmFbyqtkc04NrrO/s200/DSC05776.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559089017272209922" /></a>Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-60007587352114831572010-10-05T08:59:00.000-07:002010-10-06T10:29:58.020-07:00The Creativity of Options by Leona Beasley<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCt8roM4ONPreOnIxxYme3S0L7KtpKYqsxxBIcGNH6dSLU6c719Il-9U-BlP_rt0xc_CYzwLBOw36BO770bUJ8ai9FffELmniSGToEDy_UzXY1sysTIU7gCZ_e_CYBTK7FyvM8/s1600/Options_pix.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCt8roM4ONPreOnIxxYme3S0L7KtpKYqsxxBIcGNH6dSLU6c719Il-9U-BlP_rt0xc_CYzwLBOw36BO770bUJ8ai9FffELmniSGToEDy_UzXY1sysTIU7gCZ_e_CYBTK7FyvM8/s200/Options_pix.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524599928149901922" /></a><br /><br />Foolish but innocently I went with my wife to pick out a dog. Though we’d looked at a number of dogs several times before. I knew in my heart we’d come back with Jackson.<br /><br />The problem at hand is I had no idea how difficult, challenges, how much work it takes to care for a dog. Nor did I know just how much of a concrete decision I was making. <br /><br />In grad school I studied with a wonderfully talented writer, and a generous spirit, Abigail Thomas. Her memoir “A Three Dog Life” is a lovely account of life, hope, transformation and love after her husband’s tragic accident. <br /><br />In class Abby read passages from all types of books: scientific, fiction, poetry, memoir. After the reading Abby gave an assignment linked to the readings. <br /><br />One assignment might be, “Now write a story where you encounter some one from your past.” Another, “Write a story that includes an orange, a back door and someone with a tattoo.” You get the picture.<br /><br />I loved having these contained options. Maybe they helped build perimeters of safety around my then budding writing skills. With these added options I unexpectedly got a richness added to my writing. I always came up with stories I liked, some I even loved.<br /><br />There is an axiom that says <span style="font-style:italic;">Creativity is the Elimination of Options</span>.<br /><br />I don’t know if this was Abby’s intent, but creativity blossomed in the class each week when person after person read their work out loud. It had a bit of magic.<br /><br />The option to add Jackson to our family is both scary and expensive as well as time consuming. The alternative option my wife like wouldn’t like. Send him back.<br /><br />The best option in this life story is to allow the story to play out, and to include a dog name Jackson, a wife who travels and a writer who creates. And see what happens.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8QZsi1qMvPcWLZiOqGPf9XZ3RIo9Yzm7EvrbQyBnxM4DinBuD1FRLZc6YrlAmJj2iefty8r9jmO1JovbPq0iT2R3cmES-24EC8ZI-4tD3NSRmIoeA0IA8X1OD5fStLJ6m1jJ/s1600/DSC05178.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8QZsi1qMvPcWLZiOqGPf9XZ3RIo9Yzm7EvrbQyBnxM4DinBuD1FRLZc6YrlAmJj2iefty8r9jmO1JovbPq0iT2R3cmES-24EC8ZI-4tD3NSRmIoeA0IA8X1OD5fStLJ6m1jJ/s200/DSC05178.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524600489622004370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTKhRceHtExJKF0lcLS1D_Uk2JtYlsUfISEpUXAFvJcKMfRRLs5ToFukita_irFQxzZX1dys2u39mbi07ALMYG1a58Nv9iQOcjQ-P4Yt0oPxXeiI7lOozcZFbuDvkKsPt8Y0Kh/s1600/DSC05135.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTKhRceHtExJKF0lcLS1D_Uk2JtYlsUfISEpUXAFvJcKMfRRLs5ToFukita_irFQxzZX1dys2u39mbi07ALMYG1a58Nv9iQOcjQ-P4Yt0oPxXeiI7lOozcZFbuDvkKsPt8Y0Kh/s200/DSC05135.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524600311046475010" /></a>Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-7434677688497315802010-09-22T09:00:00.000-07:002010-09-23T09:10:23.967-07:00A Writer’s Life: No Time to Kill by Leona Beasley<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwrRGVIqOaSZqf5bqWZGaRxBywuAWMWQ4YGgnPldbJ7o-suVeAbsH6V3lolhU2Mb15kV_sLNWZNXUaaFLgjwhMwHdxgPTy8HweH9Cl0dheSFV-w0kGbz2LMrA2d1ck0dKKOlLe/s1600/Onnierun_portugal3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwrRGVIqOaSZqf5bqWZGaRxBywuAWMWQ4YGgnPldbJ7o-suVeAbsH6V3lolhU2Mb15kV_sLNWZNXUaaFLgjwhMwHdxgPTy8HweH9Cl0dheSFV-w0kGbz2LMrA2d1ck0dKKOlLe/s200/Onnierun_portugal3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519412925583654690" /></a><br />I guess I never really lack things to write about—only the time to get them done. <br /><br />Now time is a funny bugger. Even fickle I’d say. It sometimes likes me and other times now so much. Still I court it like a girl on a mission, a lesbian girl on a mission. Gay girls who read this page know exactly what I mean. <br /><br />We, in this case—I throw a wide net to snare my pray. The pray being time to write, get myself focused and put pen to paper. I did this when I was looking for a girlfriend. Now days I’m married. I’ve passed on this skill to my writer’s life. <br /><br />In math classes I liked long division even some geometry. Southern teachers, like southern folks loved to preach about the merits of the subjects they taught or the things they experienced. “The Pythagorean Theorem will come in handy,” Coach Brandon insisted with a southern twang.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkncJjb2-274Fr_VU-9PLDMrLgTPI-0Z0jY_hySMoEwRgMu04pAN5QisKCdJmFBaY-u4WZHDpEjNqIWPgWDamncLxb1RMGccDV1-erQXA91zxdgTrorY-o6XdwW67TRxbCrCDU/s1600/P_Theorem.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkncJjb2-274Fr_VU-9PLDMrLgTPI-0Z0jY_hySMoEwRgMu04pAN5QisKCdJmFBaY-u4WZHDpEjNqIWPgWDamncLxb1RMGccDV1-erQXA91zxdgTrorY-o6XdwW67TRxbCrCDU/s200/P_Theorem.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519408685717970370"></a> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1boJ8YiUdjhGf9w8kw6xBaEvu0XaA5bqH5y3up-VWWektZi7uDOpXB_Zg8fIf4qE337M1oibFELHrVR6D_Wz_4RL2GJA-EVqJQJqmNACJklw7pFmNg3KQcRdmuzvQBa7xjyL/s1600/Triangle.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1boJ8YiUdjhGf9w8kw6xBaEvu0XaA5bqH5y3up-VWWektZi7uDOpXB_Zg8fIf4qE337M1oibFELHrVR6D_Wz_4RL2GJA-EVqJQJqmNACJklw7pFmNg3KQcRdmuzvQBa7xjyL/s200/Triangle.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519409586107241842"></a><br /><br />In the case of writing time management long division have proven important to know. Dividing up my time between, tweaking my novel, writing art columns, searching for work, revising the second novel, reading works in progress in public, practicing reading, doing a workshop here and there, and simply thinking about putting words together. <br /><br />And though it doesn’t directly correspond I like knowing that The Pythagorean Theorem is a2 +b2 = c2. Perhaps knowledge of this theorem helps create equal balance as I carve up my time. <br /><br />And I don’t like to think there isn’t enough time. That thought is too morbid for me. What I will admit is that time is as nebulous as water, <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_kJMi1A0sOxSp6j5H-Pk-9ByZJ27CvljVQCWAYtYQYMTdSH34u0wNUFE-aE1n2au-IBPQuvGWrG49dQ2_Z7ygh4eLi09bmFpHSljJcXtKDcCfLV-ysYivdivUc3wUyliEyZQ/s1600/Water_running.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_kJMi1A0sOxSp6j5H-Pk-9ByZJ27CvljVQCWAYtYQYMTdSH34u0wNUFE-aE1n2au-IBPQuvGWrG49dQ2_Z7ygh4eLi09bmFpHSljJcXtKDcCfLV-ysYivdivUc3wUyliEyZQ/s200/Water_running.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519413937922024642" /></a>fluid, ever flowing, doing its own thing without regard to what any of my wants, desires or needs. How liberating its must be to be time itself. Never having to be conscientious of the other. Always moving in the forward motion, never looking back. <br /><br />If I were Time I’d be lousy at its job, too concerned about outcome, way to anxious and un-cool.<br /><br />The best I can do is to make peace with time. To honor its process, not fight it at every turn, to take it day-by-day. Knowing somehow I’ll get it all done sooner or later.<br /><br />Today I have twenty-four hours to divide up at will. And now that I completed my thoughts on time I’m off to write something else.Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-21043576421914810222010-09-09T08:23:00.000-07:002010-09-09T15:45:26.815-07:00A Writer’s Life: Into the Woods by Leona Beasley<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX3PB9_uxq-ywQvzSOyc-pU26HtJ55_6hfKZABMGqdaUkrBbqxZ68ONhnSiBCDGhPtyw41pd3hIfYQKY_e1zTKF6x8bhpfU442fr5mjIoyZm0KkwQbMw6dTEXnuTE8tosXjXcY/s1600/IMAG0062.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX3PB9_uxq-ywQvzSOyc-pU26HtJ55_6hfKZABMGqdaUkrBbqxZ68ONhnSiBCDGhPtyw41pd3hIfYQKY_e1zTKF6x8bhpfU442fr5mjIoyZm0KkwQbMw6dTEXnuTE8tosXjXcY/s200/IMAG0062.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514953161791082962" /></a><br />The <a href="http://www.friendsrock.org/">Rockefeller Preserve</a> has become my sanctuary. I walk and run the wood in search of mostly exercise, but secretly I also look for inspiration. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvvHPDixQpwfZCSfMqFkxPaCDyNqKfeW3bpTNtO4Dfp-B_PUdFeiG-vx9kdX0J5zq7hzdsRJcKdQp0Z_9a2yNVHDO50P0MdBCeDsarWdF9IW1kbFT-43tXyFNYisYJ6M1l3b2L/s1600/IMAG0068.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvvHPDixQpwfZCSfMqFkxPaCDyNqKfeW3bpTNtO4Dfp-B_PUdFeiG-vx9kdX0J5zq7hzdsRJcKdQp0Z_9a2yNVHDO50P0MdBCeDsarWdF9IW1kbFT-43tXyFNYisYJ6M1l3b2L/s200/IMAG0068.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514953448533941570" /></a><br /><br />I can’t say I find it, only that after I’ve spent an hour I’ve at least burned calories. But sometimes I tell the trees my problem, the challenges I face in working to become a published novelist.<br /><br />I guess you could say I’m lucky and I do get Arts and Culture articles published online at AOL’s <a href="http://tarrytown.patch.com/">Tarrytown Patch</a>. I could live a much more enisled existence. Still my heart wants more. And so does my soul. Doesn’t every writer?<br /><br />In grad school I listened on as a professor rail on about his former colleague (a really famous writer at Princeton) inability to appreciate or see all of her success. <br /><br />“You never heard such moaning, the professor complained. Meanwhile she publishes a book a year, gets advanced royalties and that’s not counting her short stories, and essays.” <br /><br />To my first mind my less famous professor was being a hater. Yet it did seem impossible for someone so famous to be so insecure. But fame and fortune doesn’t fan the flame of insecurity. Insecurity is its own monster. <br /><br />Insecurity isn’t my challenge mine is the getting and the knowing my novel is structurally sound, and landing in the right hands. It’s a bit of a crapshoot. And minus religion it’s all seems to be a walk of faith, chance, and happenstance. <br /><br />You have to drive the publishing campaign like you know where you’re going. Momentum is your ally. <br /><br />And until I’ve got a structurally sound novel in the rights set of hands I’ll have to keep it moving. Keep my mind focused, and my energy directed. And I’ll push against hope that all my good work, great training, focus and drive lands me published.<br /><br />And then I’ll start all over again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI0RRVhGmACh6hqINq8fx4YNAJsiFN5C1rTCsNUL3TFFPonUbPNEF_EW08ZMdDFbnWFO6soHh12c1oj649HzaXmlY5dmK7DUCjhZKfP9xvGcbQjIICv7nfO-QN2N92idGdwrjV/s1600/IMAG0065.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI0RRVhGmACh6hqINq8fx4YNAJsiFN5C1rTCsNUL3TFFPonUbPNEF_EW08ZMdDFbnWFO6soHh12c1oj649HzaXmlY5dmK7DUCjhZKfP9xvGcbQjIICv7nfO-QN2N92idGdwrjV/s200/IMAG0065.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514954419498123010" /></a>Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-75536124178718028652010-08-30T13:07:00.000-07:002010-09-08T16:32:23.268-07:00The Creativity of Speedboats and Water by Leona Beasley<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3fKjYuEmbZ-4E4xAiyHZ_NN8tm1GWte0c25V-UFuSDlBsQycOx0GLnIOaOtTBWXiNwv5nj2B6jgxky_UXhUq1cqpbxFWXUAfPTpvspEYoze8TeDZlwsgHKCKG7smijJKWkc9/s1600/DSC03325.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3fKjYuEmbZ-4E4xAiyHZ_NN8tm1GWte0c25V-UFuSDlBsQycOx0GLnIOaOtTBWXiNwv5nj2B6jgxky_UXhUq1cqpbxFWXUAfPTpvspEYoze8TeDZlwsgHKCKG7smijJKWkc9/s200/DSC03325.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511298005016480066" /></a><br />Weeks ago my friend I call “little bird” took me out on the Boston Bay in a speedboat. Ooh-wee! What wonders, what excitement, fear and creativity bubbled inside me! <br /><br />I’ve been away from my blog for eleven months. I have plenty of excuses, none of which I’ll trouble you with here. While I wasn’t writing on the blog I was finishing up what I hope is the final draft of my novel, 11 Light City, settling in our new home after the move across country to the Hudson River Valley, and I’ve added columnist to my ever-growing list of jobs. <br /><br />Columnist is at least in the right category of jobs; it’s better than taxi driver or baker. I don’t have an aptitude for taxi driver or baker I never worked either and don’t plan to.<br /><br />What I am good at is playing with words, creating ideas. And while I’m good at it this doesn’t mean it comes easily for me. I happen to type slowly while thinking fast, this drive me to madness sometimes. <br /><br />I have more ideas than I can actually act on. Unlike being on the water in a speedboat, life moves slowly here on land. Every word must be thought about again, and again to make art. Aaaah! But making art is the point. <br /><br />For now making art doesn’t make me tons of money. So I’m exploring additional work beyond my column. I’ve even contemplating teaching. Don’t laugh I’m good at it. Most folks think if you’re good at something you should do it. I don’t necessarily think this is true. <br /><br />But perhaps its easier and sometimes easy is what is needed.<br /><br />On the boat in the Boston Bay Mike LaRhette aka “little bird” drove with precision not just speed. And while I’ve been on plenty of boats this boat was like a roadster on the water. We were one with the boat, one with the water. <br /><br />The water operated like and alternate landform—solid not liquid. A landform on another planet, it was so cool to breeze on top the water like a speed racer on land. <br /><br />Creativity does not come speedily. It takes time to foster, to grow, to develop. <br />Often I’m at odds with time with writing and reading deadlines. But when I engage the water either on a boat or looking off at its vistas time isn’t on my mind. The view and the experience are what matters.Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-81018651834045669302009-10-29T12:40:00.000-07:002009-10-29T13:29:06.081-07:00The Creativity of cycling<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This summer I added cycling outdoors to the various ways I like to stay active. Though I started spinning classes four years ago, I couldn’t figure out how to negotiate highly trafficked roadways with cars, trucks, motorcycles even scooters zipping along the streets. It seemed an impossible and daunting quest so I removed it from the fore of my thoughts and laid it to rest in the furthest corridors of my mind. In other words I fuhgottabout-it!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">At the end of last year I sent my novel “Eleven Light City” around to publishers and agents. I got responses like: “Lovely.” “Great characters.” “Oh—what a great voice!” A well-known writer friend of mine tells me that any positive response from publishers, agents, and/or a contest is a “good thing.” I believe that. But as one agent said to me, “It is lovely but ultimately I didn’t fall in love.” After reflection I thought, “Ahhh! Now I have something to work with—falling in love.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This year I set out to find an editor to work with me on ELC. I targeted four writers. One came through. It only takes one. The editor I was introduced to is seasoned with many years of publishing experience. After reading ELC she said: “The words feel alive.” “Deliciously lyrical.” “Beautiful parts.” “But there is no narrative arc, only a series of events. No building to the climax, no resolution.”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Needless to say my heart wanted to stop but I listened carefully and I knew she was right. I asked the question that weighed heaviest, “Do you think I need to rewrite the novel?” She replied quickly, “Oh—no! Just round up all the chapters and eliminate any part of story that doesn’t drive the narrative. Pare down the dialog and sharpen your authorial voice, it can fill in the blanks.” Then she said what helped the most. “A novel only needs to be as long as it needs. Three hundred and fifty pages can be come two-fifty and be a better novel. It’s still </span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdEaR2uENGNO_c3RPoystGnQneibhSDJEldUO1E-wn_yusnjYp5ZWkouGCQrai0T3HYf0jEpsNTgyxQc-702NZNmvMMxqIzmilO3LerrVgpVysa6DqFEu5qP2kNobGCLZOFOm/s320/Oaklandbike1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398115084714269714" /><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">a novel.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Over the last few months since we spoke, I’m getting it. I can cut out or take away words, dialog, characters I’ve come to love over the years and still have a great story. I can say less and in that less the story can blossom and I can fall in love with fewer words and with newer words. I can like what ELC will become as much or perhaps more than this version. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In my spinning class I heard of a fundraiser and bike tour. The idea of it excited me but even after I got my bike prepared for the road it was the last minute that I actually decided to go on the tour. My reasons were: “It’s too early in the morning.” “Is forty dollars too much money?” “The other riders are probably more seasoned.” I ended up riding thirty-six miles and I kept up the entire way. I was tired when I got home but the ride but that journey has altered my life. Now several times a week I ride from my house to the Berkeley Marina and back home. I always stop at the Marina and look across at the Golden Gate Bridge— the sun sprinkles light if it has burst through the fog. I am working on bursting through the fog of words, the re-write, characters, authorial voice of ELC to get the heart of the novel, all while I hold on to the love of the novel. The way I see it navigating the unknown, breaking through to the other side of the writing are the acts the can help facilitate the readers to fall in love with the story much like I fell in love with bike riding on the busy streets of Oakland, California.</span></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSM0ss0G9ut70r2MYouvIliyKOf3_VzzlAI24IXRJoXgBP6aBYaFcDAAvXpTcEFlr-M0oa62wblS0rtcRw0YfbknkuIX-tUyTd0eFQgg1QKbKbMW0h-oB-hpHTE9-613T_G4fi/s320/Oakbike2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398115087846574498" /><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The key to biking and writing is beginning!</span></p>Leonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03807145705424741720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-36088307006796284742009-05-08T10:28:00.000-07:002009-05-08T11:19:36.141-07:00The voice of CreativityLast summer my wife and I honeymooned in Sydney, Australia. Her version of the story is I honeymooned while she worked. True. Still we were there for two weeks and got to go around together on her days off. And truly the Opera House is as picturesque as it appears in photographs or on TV. While Kathy worked, I wrote, explored the city’s botanical gardens, museums and Aquarium. In general I soaked in the energy, astrosphere, the interesting blend of people and the culture. In Sydney essays burst through my hands out my fingers and onto the pages of my notebook. From outdoor cafes I look out to Sydney and it fed me back energy to which I’d scribe for hours. And in those moments, and now as I reflect back, no negative thoughts hovered in my mind, looking for entry eating away at my peace. The negative voices never spoke to me; I stayed in a hopeful productive space with regards to my writing and my writing future. Dreaming and living in Technicolor became my motto though at the time I hadn’t considered it. <br /><br />Without trying, I’d reconnected to the beginner’s mind in Sydney. And without the sights and sounds of the city I live in I innocently open myself to something new. This newness sparked my brain, fired up my synapses to simply write without a past and unfettered by the future. <br /><br />Recapturing the beginner’s mind has been one tool I now use to stay positively connected to my writing life. I am a little more fearless with coaching perhaps because I am a beginner. In my neighborhood there is a rose garden that I’ve always loved. Roses of all colors and sizes reside there. After Sydney I adopted the Rose Garden as my personal botanical garden where I’d often take walks, jog and photograph the landscape, sometimes recording the changes that occur. A month ago a huge tree fell and over the course of it lying on its side, I photographed its stunning grace and its ultimate removal. Something about recording the progress of that tree and my movements in the rose garden has taken me back to Sydney. I’m learning even walks in my neighborhood can clear out the negative self-talk. And in a way I’ve decided to make friends with those voices. When they say we can’t do this or that I take them for a walk in the Rose Garden, to photograph flowers, to see how the sun light create shadows through the trees in the late evening hours. Sometimes a single picture can combat a hundred negative thoughts. <br /><br />Creativity has many voices. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-m14zJhYP5KtoK4L8mC74P0FdV82xuPyxv6ZeWyHzJJMy8IsKNs3OfC2KG9Xkzcq2wLlt8iwwP_Q6iPb7AsXhhjHp3loPU292AncL0iLc4wyZyhKW8VxH_PbujOR1KlXJcinZ/s1600-h/DSC02441.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-m14zJhYP5KtoK4L8mC74P0FdV82xuPyxv6ZeWyHzJJMy8IsKNs3OfC2KG9Xkzcq2wLlt8iwwP_Q6iPb7AsXhhjHp3loPU292AncL0iLc4wyZyhKW8VxH_PbujOR1KlXJcinZ/s200/DSC02441.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333515389550570498" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMt-70NhDO1Z-fI6cFYqO7u7y89QH917MWDMVxTGvT_juixJq6OI9rlXK1az_Qif4sg7T1NY7ObAJDo-CgjH5ygIiSLh9ADwuprJga0-kczLFUF_ubi-UX5o3vL8-V2et4Fuc/s1600-h/DSC02443.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMt-70NhDO1Z-fI6cFYqO7u7y89QH917MWDMVxTGvT_juixJq6OI9rlXK1az_Qif4sg7T1NY7ObAJDo-CgjH5ygIiSLh9ADwuprJga0-kczLFUF_ubi-UX5o3vL8-V2et4Fuc/s200/DSC02443.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333514895844443634" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCF154Ks7c6YjsC-HHLQzJq_ekOUJm0abqS4JRpKGGDOHIxbKLbbR-q6fZz3oYFt2Nvl8nH-yxg09bMPBj0co9pVJFefIjSDYcsmghSlr7SI-YbWeKMSu7W-n9GkqjvjrMm5vR/s1600-h/DSC02437.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCF154Ks7c6YjsC-HHLQzJq_ekOUJm0abqS4JRpKGGDOHIxbKLbbR-q6fZz3oYFt2Nvl8nH-yxg09bMPBj0co9pVJFefIjSDYcsmghSlr7SI-YbWeKMSu7W-n9GkqjvjrMm5vR/s200/DSC02437.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333514317862493730" /></a> The Oakland Rose Garden<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGabIlMraa_WpsTz2lIbGm9SsIso49n-3ESdyA3nOSYV7LnXMdjlUCu3hITSOtZgK2H2TRgec1t5ZMpmTqQwsvYJWb-jRXh_gQlge9_4SZ5VgV2eIiWiaFawN9gqvTdkkgKad/s1600-h/DSC00650.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGabIlMraa_WpsTz2lIbGm9SsIso49n-3ESdyA3nOSYV7LnXMdjlUCu3hITSOtZgK2H2TRgec1t5ZMpmTqQwsvYJWb-jRXh_gQlge9_4SZ5VgV2eIiWiaFawN9gqvTdkkgKad/s200/DSC00650.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333517371776433602" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqAVAJ8lLFwgbY5d5yZ04logOXpecsttAOrjapOVklgwMg13H4_6c0LqwB9UVIxT0m78xA1j39G2VMgZzbtXdvbgvjlJ2RxbHD-DckE7osI4HVy8tyMqRN5BWLu6kZ_W-Lega/s1600-h/DSC00649.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqAVAJ8lLFwgbY5d5yZ04logOXpecsttAOrjapOVklgwMg13H4_6c0LqwB9UVIxT0m78xA1j39G2VMgZzbtXdvbgvjlJ2RxbHD-DckE7osI4HVy8tyMqRN5BWLu6kZ_W-Lega/s200/DSC00649.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333516913275091890" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDT-ubH7D0VpHTlIOPbaFK5xPNKMitndZQA9G7au-95WE8QyOU8idWXj-BLvw-Opw2oseZOSEsVICFSioZscycaxKr3qk16bu1BAuu1eh6yGthUI97TEUagxDN5bZPVCabMxIP/s1600-h/DSC00611.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDT-ubH7D0VpHTlIOPbaFK5xPNKMitndZQA9G7au-95WE8QyOU8idWXj-BLvw-Opw2oseZOSEsVICFSioZscycaxKr3qk16bu1BAuu1eh6yGthUI97TEUagxDN5bZPVCabMxIP/s200/DSC00611.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333516426212545250" /></a> Sydney's Opera HouseUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-66024673238189904252009-04-21T12:48:00.001-07:002009-04-21T13:04:08.934-07:00The Stuff of LifeShit happens to good people. A year ago my niece-in-law had an aneurism and was first rushed off to the Crawford Long Hospital then on to Emory University hospital where the surgery was performed. Cynthia happens to be a person I simply like, because to she is likable. Over the years of her being married to James, my nephew, I’ve mostly lived away from Atlanta. But I’ve come in and out to visit even living there for a brief time 1998-99. Back in ’91 Cynthia and James plan to marry in the fall. Mama died in the spring of that same year. And though I loved James a lot, the need to escape Atlanta and Daddy was much stronger. Yet I always felt heart sick that I’d didn’t stay for the wedding. Cynthia was never cross with me about not attending. Though before I left she said, “I wish you could be there but I get you have to go.” I left Atlanta for California on a hot fall day. A lot of fall days are hot in Atlanta. And the day Cynthia had the aneurism it was hot. Heat didn’t cause the aneurism doctors don’t really know why. But they suspect some of us are born with smaller blood vessel than others. And at birth, unaware, we are born with factors that may cause this condition—it nobody’s fault. I like to think that stuff happen in our lives because we simply are alive and I’ll take the muck that happens in life over death any day.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Mcf-I8tdZx9y7x0dgYaC0iPdIQdduueAgtT2HPbGLJQHNV-e35qX8t3d2Bg0aPlMZ40mQsrrtKGDX8j2TCt6IiRPjSExvzNlpZA4umTx0aoOERFkU6RNDld00AgO0mZ31lb7/s1600-h/DSC01352.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Mcf-I8tdZx9y7x0dgYaC0iPdIQdduueAgtT2HPbGLJQHNV-e35qX8t3d2Bg0aPlMZ40mQsrrtKGDX8j2TCt6IiRPjSExvzNlpZA4umTx0aoOERFkU6RNDld00AgO0mZ31lb7/s200/DSC01352.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327235946915264482" /></a> This street art photo looks nothing like my niece-in-law Cynthia but it is a representation of what I've imagined a head feels like after it's been cut.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-68617677962867874702009-04-10T10:50:00.000-07:002010-01-07T04:53:49.083-08:00Creativity de-mystified<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7J8OJjZatNGCwpgnGhcwnGJVIPrnI4YdhYkyBFL6qNrGaztlCg2OQsLPoXYFMJuDZNWB-UQwOkmFEPXqwUTeed_5_QaIJOq2yM3znPrGcAf6LgpFnHhudjTEE0KEVsW_G5QC/s1600-h/DSC00205.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7J8OJjZatNGCwpgnGhcwnGJVIPrnI4YdhYkyBFL6qNrGaztlCg2OQsLPoXYFMJuDZNWB-UQwOkmFEPXqwUTeed_5_QaIJOq2yM3znPrGcAf6LgpFnHhudjTEE0KEVsW_G5QC/s200/DSC00205.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323129525689204370" /></a><br />These days I’ve found myself with the old African proverb, “She who teaches also learns,” flowing through my mind as I contemplate helping others and myself on the creativity path.<br /><br />It’s interesting even though I’ve spent many years in and around creative environments i.e. teaching art, working as graphic designer, architectural draftsperson, editing curricula in Children’s Television and presently writing fiction, I often feel the difficulty inside myself to simply allow myself to be. And not feel compelled to explain my creative motive, my creative existence to those for whom creativity is a nebulous blob. And while I feel everyone can add creativity to any job there are many for whom being creative is for children and adults who haven’t decided to grow up.<br /><br />Usually these folks that I’m introducing the creative process to are new friends, or friends of friends who’ve over heard me say, “I’m a writer.” This simple stated fact makes most questions the ends and outs of writing.<br /><br />One small thing I do to support my creative life as well as my sanity is I’m learning that these folks are mostly curious, and while I not always in the mood to answer I’ve learned to use these opportunities to practice delivering quick pitches. What is your book about? It’s a coming of age novel about growing up and coming out the South. And there it is.<br /><br />Boom, mostly this satisfies the average person. I add more if it is appropriate. But I’ve also learned to change the subject, deflect if I don’t want to engage that person any more or just want to change the subject. In the past I felt (sometime still do) the need to answer all questions. But I’ve discovered what I need most is to take care of my creative spirit. It’s also fine to say, “Well that’s my summary for tonight, what about you? What do you do that’s creative?” And let the other person say or runaway from the subject. Sometime they literally run away! That’s great too.<br /><br />Small things are truly worth trying. Recently I’ been reading Steven King’s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. And I’ve introduced back into my writer’s life writing four to five days a week and getting in touch with the characters of my second novel. I’ve tweaked it for myself in that I write for at least thirty minutes. And while I’d love to come up with the thousand words a day that Steven suggests for beginners, I’m more focused on the regularity of writing consistently. Often I write for two to three hours, which I find, is plenty. Still one day I’d like to write the two thousand words Steven puts I everyday but for now I’m good.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50oza49mKF69fePnW6h8Zz0bQA5ZkJ0STCkvCkZlo5LWJoTuhXt65il9E2kmxIkMnqLdNxx3u-ckl_tbhPfx1KyZsg_a-hmOrhpdbhqUL4V8JeSlqgZFZqygnocfiRC-U8db4/s1600-h/DSC00207.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50oza49mKF69fePnW6h8Zz0bQA5ZkJ0STCkvCkZlo5LWJoTuhXt65il9E2kmxIkMnqLdNxx3u-ckl_tbhPfx1KyZsg_a-hmOrhpdbhqUL4V8JeSlqgZFZqygnocfiRC-U8db4/s200/DSC00207.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323133222634917090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEh0rt8WWD3l2ljr4YHa-ORKL-XAxc2RdvU-vDbq0WM5q_62mnGb8VWBtazU824Hxl25KElzoD31AMvWX3QMBEf63QYv2jz4kei8zZhYtSh8pdhBzdx_tUhzmpPO1eAEUcA9G/s1600-h/DSC00206.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEh0rt8WWD3l2ljr4YHa-ORKL-XAxc2RdvU-vDbq0WM5q_62mnGb8VWBtazU824Hxl25KElzoD31AMvWX3QMBEf63QYv2jz4kei8zZhYtSh8pdhBzdx_tUhzmpPO1eAEUcA9G/s200/DSC00206.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323132230902408482" /></a><br />Red roses aren't a mystery just filled with beauty and creativityUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-20452681985687122632009-04-08T11:09:00.000-07:002009-04-08T13:16:43.376-07:00New EraI don’t consider myself a religious person but I have taken it upon myself to prayer for Barack Obama, to consistently imagine a lavender light of protection surrounding him at all times. I've taken this on because of the nay sayers and the ones that wish him harm and ill will. Sending that positive lavender light can only help. <br /><br />Baaa-rock Hasein Oooobaaama, what a great name, it rolls off the tongue nicely.<br /><br />My mother Susie Mae Beasley, would be ecstatic over his presidency, she passed away in 1991 at the age of 73. In her day she’d seen some changes. From the disappearance of white only water fountains, to gaining the right to vote, to Dr. King’s raise, rule and ultimate assassination. Onto the growth of the black middle class, to black mayors like Maynard Jackson and Andy Young running Atlanta to Arsenio Hall's talk show. Mama thought Arsenio was the bomb, the best since slice bread. At night she’d stay up late to see at lest see his opening monologue. Often touting, “Now he’s somebody.”<br /><br />If mother lived to see Senator Barack Obama become President Barack Obama it would have made her happy to know that somehow in ' 65 hosting the student group SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) in her living room, like countless others, aided in the birth of the black middle class, the voting rights act, southern black mayors, and the first American president that looked a lot like those colleges students protesting from over forty years ago. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJEP5ukJlFtTqaGuZ1-vHozgcxOU2phETfgy-tCivkSWeP7wqASObg_LrnQPcRAkgn01L5Gg3ie28XKefKuvUz_TJUTvoi6Q0BI6uwa8odoGk2nJjTOVGldUUkStGn3gM_BuOH/s1600-h/DSC02116.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJEP5ukJlFtTqaGuZ1-vHozgcxOU2phETfgy-tCivkSWeP7wqASObg_LrnQPcRAkgn01L5Gg3ie28XKefKuvUz_TJUTvoi6Q0BI6uwa8odoGk2nJjTOVGldUUkStGn3gM_BuOH/s200/DSC02116.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322386298900242274" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6C4PEx6_H_mS2gMgTdz7XL-G0xQ8yWYJdS4k_obT1xGhMpWgxECxXUbo4d-YaeFyhdczC8uj435ylQOeM5Pez1A4vsa4MYfnEh3MEXh26MfFVPPVh-Q-tYo_AYV0KoaVsvhX/s1600-h/DSC00116.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6C4PEx6_H_mS2gMgTdz7XL-G0xQ8yWYJdS4k_obT1xGhMpWgxECxXUbo4d-YaeFyhdczC8uj435ylQOeM5Pez1A4vsa4MYfnEh3MEXh26MfFVPPVh-Q-tYo_AYV0KoaVsvhX/s200/DSC00116.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322393222833815554" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-64499809102771183102009-03-26T11:15:00.000-07:002009-04-08T13:15:40.338-07:00California Academy of Sciences-Fish in the AquariumOn a first time visit to the Aquarium at the new California Academy of Science in Golden Gate Park I was reminded of why it's important that I go beyond the walls of my office to experience the out doors, nature, fish even bus rides that travel off Market Street that took me to the museum. Writing is all about outputs but one needs inputs to write. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXzWzfslFcbBIlPHAG7ofUyu6uBJqbGOAmzmGWqaTl-lDS2jJb0ApFkhrBXK07cqMcvDujbHFP6UKaRcmBKlz8JHIJtNL5LAIl2FWQhkzciNM4AXdQQzJjIT8R5AQLIcGu_T_/s1600-h/DSC02311.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXzWzfslFcbBIlPHAG7ofUyu6uBJqbGOAmzmGWqaTl-lDS2jJb0ApFkhrBXK07cqMcvDujbHFP6UKaRcmBKlz8JHIJtNL5LAIl2FWQhkzciNM4AXdQQzJjIT8R5AQLIcGu_T_/s200/DSC02311.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317567135676647026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlD7ugDMa3yLqrgoDOREDgNwgjougb6DbNcswRvWwVszd_SKfII8kqrONuz-EBIsAGbYPmmd0wr3B_y4FZbgu_k7TI1WGsERPAsQw8unjrvvLZzmoW69kWeUxWGEs53Av7YCH/s1600-h/DSC02298.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlD7ugDMa3yLqrgoDOREDgNwgjougb6DbNcswRvWwVszd_SKfII8kqrONuz-EBIsAGbYPmmd0wr3B_y4FZbgu_k7TI1WGsERPAsQw8unjrvvLZzmoW69kWeUxWGEs53Av7YCH/s200/DSC02298.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317567129311252226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5urXB5uuxU7LSnwBgNagZF6ZJJx1gJfSnLlv1DGgnYuc_CxzynkhqWsanEi1qJX2ij_ymrkHuiuk0q6AmoZ5e68uFOjLXjnBvYJ0WF2LD_ICA8eRqeWDKu4crRLRvfb-SQFNW/s1600-h/DSC02348.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5urXB5uuxU7LSnwBgNagZF6ZJJx1gJfSnLlv1DGgnYuc_CxzynkhqWsanEi1qJX2ij_ymrkHuiuk0q6AmoZ5e68uFOjLXjnBvYJ0WF2LD_ICA8eRqeWDKu4crRLRvfb-SQFNW/s200/DSC02348.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317567120657456978" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxQYLE4JX527A2shN2qkq2UGcdCEOjm7E7KtEO_eF2nRb1HKf9_edeTQCJPZeUBjM3oaJDDdOlRah7JTtcTx5eBiRLqhT54EsXStMT7bBwN8Zq3A_lRwN8Ht3GNlFxWLAAx8H/s1600-h/DSC02344.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxQYLE4JX527A2shN2qkq2UGcdCEOjm7E7KtEO_eF2nRb1HKf9_edeTQCJPZeUBjM3oaJDDdOlRah7JTtcTx5eBiRLqhT54EsXStMT7bBwN8Zq3A_lRwN8Ht3GNlFxWLAAx8H/s200/DSC02344.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317567112170863106" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNAwF9Rj-HXdGuDTYmXgIRqcPsemmM5hDb5rfGdzL74Ly9QSAPOt1E8claNBu7ly3Cmfoh6b8LAIry4xASUVlYDjgzMjbsb7Taeuxk3CeRnU9kOZCigfXoTC5TRkJxEobbpgQ/s1600-h/DSC02301.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNAwF9Rj-HXdGuDTYmXgIRqcPsemmM5hDb5rfGdzL74Ly9QSAPOt1E8claNBu7ly3Cmfoh6b8LAIry4xASUVlYDjgzMjbsb7Taeuxk3CeRnU9kOZCigfXoTC5TRkJxEobbpgQ/s200/DSC02301.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317567104538238946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYNn0obTCcB-BcLb1aC06Yc_khA7tQQSOz-pJMrYHS9W9IRcgY1Pf4D-8R4cen7M7Pc6aueCRSBiTDnjwJStL2K88tXCkeGnsBvaRzcihmnnltS5hHoETlym2-CVnRSZj1eFY/s1600-h/DSC02286.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYNn0obTCcB-BcLb1aC06Yc_khA7tQQSOz-pJMrYHS9W9IRcgY1Pf4D-8R4cen7M7Pc6aueCRSBiTDnjwJStL2K88tXCkeGnsBvaRzcihmnnltS5hHoETlym2-CVnRSZj1eFY/s200/DSC02286.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317563044078037554" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-23263769104928945802009-03-26T11:06:00.000-07:002009-04-21T13:57:30.915-07:00Creative LifeAlbert Einstein wrote, “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” <br />For me these days my overall goal is to allow my imagination to soar beyond my wildest dreams and let it overflow into my writing life and my consulting life. <br /><br />It’s so easy for us to get mired in the day-to-day challenges of blending life, work and creativity even if our lives and work are enmeshed in a creative life style. The pulls to get it all done right now, get it to an audience right now, and get paid right now are factors that drive our larger society, even those of us whom move creatively.<br /><br />I’m feeling the need to step back, to breathe and allow a fresh pair of rested eyes to see the long view of my creative life. What will it look like ten years from now? This week I felt a modicum of success because I heard back from each of my clients. There were several hearty exchanges from two and the one less so. Still each seemed genuinely excited for us to work together. One goal I have for myself in reference to my clients is to read their goals as if I my eyes could hear them speaking. It seems to implement an extra sensatory can only aid in my ability to really hone in the real stuff that might block their creative progress.<br /><br />Perhaps this same process can be applied to my own goals of 1) finding multiple consulting gigs, 2) not being to hard on myself when I sit to write for three hours and produce one page, 3) to chalk up to experience that one poorly managed nonprofit doesn’t equate all, 4) to see past my fears and ask everybody I know if they need my services. Okay—not EVERY ONE, but lots and lots of ones. <br /><br />For now—perhaps just this moment, I’ve decide that my imagination will serve me, it will comfort me, help me see with unimpaired eyes to hold a vision of creativity far beyond the abilities I house. Is there a better place to live?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7QEXng1T8v9GFIWt6N6Nk0UQWqtegPPhoC9tUkhD6EhgA41rlalV2huLdzQ7XqHdg6pOBXG_mOuuH5KQeXDzyJ7gFKgsEurMLLgwL8YINrnfoiEgSZtEgwXe3MX8UdwtrU0pe/s1600-h/DSC02617.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7QEXng1T8v9GFIWt6N6Nk0UQWqtegPPhoC9tUkhD6EhgA41rlalV2huLdzQ7XqHdg6pOBXG_mOuuH5KQeXDzyJ7gFKgsEurMLLgwL8YINrnfoiEgSZtEgwXe3MX8UdwtrU0pe/s200/DSC02617.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327250985807507762" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-32283424293420060832008-11-07T16:16:00.000-08:002008-11-07T16:51:45.878-08:00Sydney, Australia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Um_cQ1y0S-A9DkCR5b1AZ8eSKW7fw1UmqKJGwTfncfi3yErpFflr7QTuUZxjng3h9OufOAhzROuCV5XiFNgw_BDKaQbBLX167BOUJ4g7uihOkujXEcizJ-zc28u2x2tkmJXO/s1600-h/DSC00771.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Um_cQ1y0S-A9DkCR5b1AZ8eSKW7fw1UmqKJGwTfncfi3yErpFflr7QTuUZxjng3h9OufOAhzROuCV5XiFNgw_BDKaQbBLX167BOUJ4g7uihOkujXEcizJ-zc28u2x2tkmJXO/s320/DSC00771.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266076168588448082" /></a>Sydney was one of the best cities I've visited and the beach was exceptionally picturesque and the Graffiti art was great as it faced the Pacific Ocean.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-15148341018007731772008-11-07T16:02:00.000-08:002008-11-07T16:34:47.290-08:00Sydney, Australia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVbzf1oJeebtwFNYg0Fm9s-XvHHnpvwLUmDNmRowk0gplQZBq0aaUbQQ0qLWvvmU87V1XVA-t2-VDarYv6NnTW5QVTIyilc2AdB1yOCmWReyPU7Bx20sxzlIeB9vrcgK7Og-q2/s1600-h/DSC00768.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVbzf1oJeebtwFNYg0Fm9s-XvHHnpvwLUmDNmRowk0gplQZBq0aaUbQQ0qLWvvmU87V1XVA-t2-VDarYv6NnTW5QVTIyilc2AdB1yOCmWReyPU7Bx20sxzlIeB9vrcgK7Og-q2/s320/DSC00768.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266078516721133234" /></a>The colors in this piece was blue like the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Australia. Kathy and I walked all along the shore and each spot was as lovely as the next. The Graffiti art near Bondi Beach, though edgy like the medium, still flowed like the ocean, maybe painted softer because it was near the cool light blue ocean.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-75921989772652841012008-11-07T15:07:00.000-08:002008-11-07T16:01:33.713-08:00Sydney, Australia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMj9yXQOGheWctzPiioxkJVI_QRfCglny8h7V1vLcH4pnXEGWGWhSIW8eTJy7E2tyHpVl0-7XD6lHnmdeGYrtWh93Lr9KT60Nezw_Xr6kVxj46LM7Cfaz_eC_tPW-GEAtNYxe/s1600-h/DSC00767.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMj9yXQOGheWctzPiioxkJVI_QRfCglny8h7V1vLcH4pnXEGWGWhSIW8eTJy7E2tyHpVl0-7XD6lHnmdeGYrtWh93Lr9KT60Nezw_Xr6kVxj46LM7Cfaz_eC_tPW-GEAtNYxe/s200/DSC00767.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266057360912896802" /></a> Sydney is a sexy beautiful exciting city. Part of the excitement is the influences from places like Thailand, Indonesia, Malasia, Bali and others. I experienced it through great food, (the best Thai I've ever had) art, and architecture. I also see it in the Graffiti art near Bondi Beach.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-49279515184426467592008-11-07T11:23:00.000-08:002008-11-07T11:40:41.082-08:00Sydney, Australia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaj_G-Zv3w0EW0ffAxt-IIBN5YfFMb7GlS4n2JqwHMr8q1MMzt34fuxkrfEe2XwP1znApqPiwFajfomyaZIRc6aQ7EOdDnfQAUbU053hAlC9kQ3H8KOfNLw9P44fk1h3WlMDRD/s1600-h/DSC00764.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaj_G-Zv3w0EW0ffAxt-IIBN5YfFMb7GlS4n2JqwHMr8q1MMzt34fuxkrfEe2XwP1znApqPiwFajfomyaZIRc6aQ7EOdDnfQAUbU053hAlC9kQ3H8KOfNLw9P44fk1h3WlMDRD/s200/DSC00764.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265999043380142162" /></a> As I travel to other countries it is amazing to me to see the fruits of both Hip-Hop and Graffiti Art (street art) cultivated and morph into other cultures. Most especially because once both weren't considered art form-neither was expected to last. Yet the fact of the matter they were born out of souls of brown and black folks in the 1970's Bronx, New York to speak out against abject poverty and urban decay, which proves to me karma can be your friend.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-77628565902344971102008-11-07T11:07:00.000-08:002008-11-07T11:22:22.250-08:00Sydney, Australia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgpPPudRzpDvSKKFN89Ks5Dkmm9_ltt82SOh9r9cV2H4_FVU5xjNRxPVjXSZBAbMJHMbZ0iNk9YA5ozyURLzYacrUko1xmuFte4JPYJIa_A7Ovc993IkkGBKxBzXsaUIl0d1H/s1600-h/DSC00763.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgpPPudRzpDvSKKFN89Ks5Dkmm9_ltt82SOh9r9cV2H4_FVU5xjNRxPVjXSZBAbMJHMbZ0iNk9YA5ozyURLzYacrUko1xmuFte4JPYJIa_A7Ovc993IkkGBKxBzXsaUIl0d1H/s320/DSC00763.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265997098414361826" /></a> This Graffiti art is on a wall near Bondi Beach in Sydney. I fell in love with Sydney this summer while visiting.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-7835169127347185472008-11-06T18:23:00.000-08:002008-11-07T11:06:46.706-08:00ObamaObama's election is being celebrated <a href="http://obama2008.s3.amazonaws.com/headlines.html">all over the world.</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-70741007866643660782008-10-20T01:09:00.000-07:002008-11-07T16:40:20.556-08:00Lisbon, Portugal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjufNHyYlRhCn0_p4joSa6JHU0sAVRbosqK_BIpamof6P__3FpkBUeBffgcgHy458v1qKrUEIdzHCASCGbBhhMQ4Ggvof3xfPQ6RFjKhEwMMwfuZWT8F-U5Ncw9iV3fvyihph3r/s1600-h/DSC01186.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjufNHyYlRhCn0_p4joSa6JHU0sAVRbosqK_BIpamof6P__3FpkBUeBffgcgHy458v1qKrUEIdzHCASCGbBhhMQ4Ggvof3xfPQ6RFjKhEwMMwfuZWT8F-U5Ncw9iV3fvyihph3r/s320/DSC01186.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259145737688983218" /></a>From the car I photographed this Graffiti Art I saw along the highway Lisbon. Street art is the art of expression in urban dwellings by young folks. I imagine the fast car and flash of my camera mimics the energy needed to produce art out in the open where cops might see you.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-21631683064629991292008-10-20T01:05:00.000-07:002008-11-06T18:26:44.922-08:00Lisbon, Portugal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTcSYTvdVjMJLYOKvBoMxYUONROgaiuo_M3Q9j-NRLLf7W59n_3CD-UfD2N2cEFFuiCtAnz5odcoQsxf2V67Fl2JSjEJcEV_Juj2q5P32FQd3C5U_8pBZSZ7HpNAtoVWYi09Y/s1600-h/DSC01188.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTcSYTvdVjMJLYOKvBoMxYUONROgaiuo_M3Q9j-NRLLf7W59n_3CD-UfD2N2cEFFuiCtAnz5odcoQsxf2V67Fl2JSjEJcEV_Juj2q5P32FQd3C5U_8pBZSZ7HpNAtoVWYi09Y/s320/DSC01188.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259144946691181698" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32543461.post-49823835571157597602008-10-20T01:01:00.000-07:002008-11-06T18:27:04.005-08:00Lisbon, Portugal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwkXtjdi-7IvkpQNfU_kkZbj4A7Bh6So9dhoX7bgQq3Vc4AilMSbn_yAfzkrQpjwBnAILCJ8XGyzkqkBNn3kHk60sj8r8ZsZAMwg08_EzOjdFw4LFV9QYe4Rq7iF240bLg9xE/s1600-h/DSC01184.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwkXtjdi-7IvkpQNfU_kkZbj4A7Bh6So9dhoX7bgQq3Vc4AilMSbn_yAfzkrQpjwBnAILCJ8XGyzkqkBNn3kHk60sj8r8ZsZAMwg08_EzOjdFw4LFV9QYe4Rq7iF240bLg9xE/s320/DSC01184.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259143923417287890" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0