According to the calendar, Spring arrived March 20th. Looking out the window, I have to wonder about that. The temperature has had more ups and downs than a yo-yo. By mid-January and winter thaw, cabin fever starts to set in. That's when the walls seem to be closing in on you and you have to find a means of escape or go crazy.
I was just reading an article about a study that was done comparing the benefits of walking vs running. Their results show there isn't much difference between the two. (Give it some time and eventually they come out with another report saying something entirely different.) As far as I'm concerned, the difference comes down to the fact that walking is easier on the bones and lets you go further distances. It's a joint conspiracy when hips, and especially knees, refuse to cooperate. Sooner or later they have to compromise to some point.
The building I live in takes up the whole block on which it sits. It's big enough that completing four circuits around the perimeter is the equivalent of having walked a mile. During winter or bad weather, many of the residents here will walk the halls, as much as they can handle. When the weather settles they'll be doing a group walk, once around the block, once a week. Last year, I fully intended to join them but something always came up or I was deep into a fictitious plot I had to stay with until it was completely solved and recorded. This year I plan to do better.
When I had places to go that weren't contained here in the building, I could work out sticking points in my writing and solve problems that kept the story from moving forward. Once I get my mp3 player set to go, I fully intend to walk around the block, think about my plot and how to fix it. Can you imagine trying to jog and work things out? Having those problems bounce around your head with every step you take? Walking provides a much smoother gait and is more conducive to finding suitable solutions.
It'll be nice to get out again (or even be able to keep the windows open) when the weather settles and begins to warm a bit. The seventies would be nice. Comfortably warm without the excessive heat and humidity that comes with summer. (not looking forward to that). So... as soon as the weather will permit, walk, or run, if you haven't yet, to the nearest exit and enjoy the return of Spring in all her glory. I will.
Update: Haven't seen much of the pair of mourning doves that took over the nest in the tree below my windows. They were coming around every morning for a while, until the storm we had last week. Then I didn't see them till the weekend but they didn't stay long. The weather has been too cold and unsettled but every time they come around they stay an hour or two and do a little more work on the nest. The bottom of which no longer can be seen through. The tree should be sprouting its blossoms in a couple weeks, and hopefully the doves will decide to stay. Hopefully, too, I'll be able to spy on them when the leaves come out.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Is It Spring Yet?
For over a week now, the weatherman has been saying that on March 20th, at 12:57 p.m. Spring will officially arrive.
It's hard to believe when parts of the country are getting bogged down with even more snow. The mid-Atlantic states got more and had to close schools and government offices. Southern New England might be getting away with only flurries and showers while Northern New England continues to get dumped on. You might get a sunny day and hang out the wash, only to have it freeze stiff enough to stand alone. Old Man Winter has yet to understand that he's no longer welcome in a world that longs for warmer temperatures. The west coast might not see snow, but their drought has been so severe that any amount of rain has caused flooding and mudslides. No matter where you live, you have to be suffering from cabin fever.
In the last month I've seen small flocks of geese heading south. When they start coming back, you know it'll be getting warmer. Another sign is when you see people dressed in short-sleeve shirts (no jacket of any kind) shorts and flip-flops. Maybe it's their way of enticing warmer weather to move in and stay a while.
There are three trees just below my window, in a corner of the courtyard. In the eight years I've been living here I've never seen any birds take over the single nest that sits in the middle tree--until this week. Monday morning, I heard a mourning dove and looked outside hoping I could spot it. It was in the tree checking out the nest. A chickadee had checked it out earlier, but I guess it rejected the space. All morning the dove was comfortable in the nest and cooing. I figured it was either trying to entice a mate or was letting its mate know where to find it. By afternoon it was gone so I figured it, too, eventually rejected the nest. After all it was in some need of repair.
Yesterday morning the dove was back, performing the same routine as the day before, then left again for the day. I thought today would be more of the same but when the dove returned, it brought its mate along. They've been here all morning, flying off to get some building materials for the nest. Although it has a sturdy seat on a branch, there are holes in the bottom where you can see through to the ground. There are a few twigs woven across the hole but not enough to fill it in. I'd hate to see an egg or two fall through and end up splat on the grass below. The doves have decimated one side of the nest, apparently in an effort to remodel it before they call it home. They're taking their time about it but then it's not all that warm yet to be laying eggs. Maybe in another week or so. By then, the trees' blossom buds should be getting fat and ready to burst. When that happens it won't be as easy to see the nest as it is now.
Little experiences like this are new for me and give me something to write about, to add a bit of a personal touch to fiction. It renews my ability to see things fresh and rejuvenate my creativity.
So... Is it Spring yet? According to the calendar, just about. According to the weather, maybe not quite yet. According to me? It's the beginning and something to look forward to. For this part of the country, the season doesn't last long and before I know it, it'll be summer. I'm going to enjoy it for however long it lasts because when it's gone and the hot temps arrive I'll be wishing winter was just leaving and Spring was on the way.
It's hard to believe when parts of the country are getting bogged down with even more snow. The mid-Atlantic states got more and had to close schools and government offices. Southern New England might be getting away with only flurries and showers while Northern New England continues to get dumped on. You might get a sunny day and hang out the wash, only to have it freeze stiff enough to stand alone. Old Man Winter has yet to understand that he's no longer welcome in a world that longs for warmer temperatures. The west coast might not see snow, but their drought has been so severe that any amount of rain has caused flooding and mudslides. No matter where you live, you have to be suffering from cabin fever.
In the last month I've seen small flocks of geese heading south. When they start coming back, you know it'll be getting warmer. Another sign is when you see people dressed in short-sleeve shirts (no jacket of any kind) shorts and flip-flops. Maybe it's their way of enticing warmer weather to move in and stay a while.
There are three trees just below my window, in a corner of the courtyard. In the eight years I've been living here I've never seen any birds take over the single nest that sits in the middle tree--until this week. Monday morning, I heard a mourning dove and looked outside hoping I could spot it. It was in the tree checking out the nest. A chickadee had checked it out earlier, but I guess it rejected the space. All morning the dove was comfortable in the nest and cooing. I figured it was either trying to entice a mate or was letting its mate know where to find it. By afternoon it was gone so I figured it, too, eventually rejected the nest. After all it was in some need of repair.
Yesterday morning the dove was back, performing the same routine as the day before, then left again for the day. I thought today would be more of the same but when the dove returned, it brought its mate along. They've been here all morning, flying off to get some building materials for the nest. Although it has a sturdy seat on a branch, there are holes in the bottom where you can see through to the ground. There are a few twigs woven across the hole but not enough to fill it in. I'd hate to see an egg or two fall through and end up splat on the grass below. The doves have decimated one side of the nest, apparently in an effort to remodel it before they call it home. They're taking their time about it but then it's not all that warm yet to be laying eggs. Maybe in another week or so. By then, the trees' blossom buds should be getting fat and ready to burst. When that happens it won't be as easy to see the nest as it is now.
Little experiences like this are new for me and give me something to write about, to add a bit of a personal touch to fiction. It renews my ability to see things fresh and rejuvenate my creativity.
So... Is it Spring yet? According to the calendar, just about. According to the weather, maybe not quite yet. According to me? It's the beginning and something to look forward to. For this part of the country, the season doesn't last long and before I know it, it'll be summer. I'm going to enjoy it for however long it lasts because when it's gone and the hot temps arrive I'll be wishing winter was just leaving and Spring was on the way.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
What Do Writers Do When... Pt 2
So now I have all these little fabric patches that have to somehow go together. Most of the time I can see the full pattern in my head. I don't always follow traditional designs. There's that expression about 'marching to a different drummer'? Well that's me. I have to be different and that applies to just about everything I do.
I know. There are rules that have to or should be followed. After all there has to be some order and logic to things. Whenever I can get away with it, I follow that lonely drummer who rat-a-tat-tats his own beat. He's got to be hearing something different in his head to go off on his own. Do you ever wonder if he's wandering around because he has no idea what direction he's headed? The only thing you can be sure of is his having enough confidence in himself that he'll reach his destination.
I don't know either. Know where I'm going, I mean. Sometimes I get a really vague story idea in my head and I write a scene. I'll keep writing until I run out of words to explain or describe what's going on. I stay on that road until I get a stack of scenes that have no relationship to one another. Making small patches is so much easier than continually adding on to the main project. You get to a point where if you're looking for something specific it gets harder to find, the bigger the main project gets. Some-times you can get into more trouble that way.
Same principle applies to writing. When I've got lots of scenes done I like to shuffle them around to see which order makes more sense. On occasion it might fit more that one way so I have to figure out what combination will provide the most impact. I'm not into applique pieces since they pretty much can fit together only one way to create a picture. Then you have to be careful how you put them together. Can't have hints of any seams if you want a smooth finished project.
I like working with pieces that give me a choice of where they're going to go. Therein lies the challenge. When these pieces have been put in their places then it's time to build bridges. Now bridges are a nice thing to have showing. They're evidence of how I got from point A to point B. Not only that but most of the time they are quite nice to travel across since they can add to the scenery and set the mood for what's next to come. I've been known to destroy a bridge, move a patch and start again. (It's easier than frogging.*)
The last step, and I truly believe it's the biggest one, is the quilting itself. There are three layers to go through. The quilt top is the plot, the middle batting the 'filler' and the back of the quilt is what helps bring it all together. All the quilt stitching holds the three segments together, sort of blends them and makes the quilt (or story) whole. The sum of all its parts. Something to enjoy. When it's all done it's time to share it with others and hopefully they will appreciate all the work that went into your creation.
Creating something is a marvelous thing, whether it's thread and cloth, paper and ink, paint and canvas. Not everyone can write, but everyone can be creative in some form. It's a part of us that cannot and should not be denied.
*frogging - a term for taking apart a seam or section of work, (particularly in knit or crochet) better known as "rippit, rippit, rippit"
I know. There are rules that have to or should be followed. After all there has to be some order and logic to things. Whenever I can get away with it, I follow that lonely drummer who rat-a-tat-tats his own beat. He's got to be hearing something different in his head to go off on his own. Do you ever wonder if he's wandering around because he has no idea what direction he's headed? The only thing you can be sure of is his having enough confidence in himself that he'll reach his destination.
I don't know either. Know where I'm going, I mean. Sometimes I get a really vague story idea in my head and I write a scene. I'll keep writing until I run out of words to explain or describe what's going on. I stay on that road until I get a stack of scenes that have no relationship to one another. Making small patches is so much easier than continually adding on to the main project. You get to a point where if you're looking for something specific it gets harder to find, the bigger the main project gets. Some-times you can get into more trouble that way.
Same principle applies to writing. When I've got lots of scenes done I like to shuffle them around to see which order makes more sense. On occasion it might fit more that one way so I have to figure out what combination will provide the most impact. I'm not into applique pieces since they pretty much can fit together only one way to create a picture. Then you have to be careful how you put them together. Can't have hints of any seams if you want a smooth finished project.
I like working with pieces that give me a choice of where they're going to go. Therein lies the challenge. When these pieces have been put in their places then it's time to build bridges. Now bridges are a nice thing to have showing. They're evidence of how I got from point A to point B. Not only that but most of the time they are quite nice to travel across since they can add to the scenery and set the mood for what's next to come. I've been known to destroy a bridge, move a patch and start again. (It's easier than frogging.*)
The last step, and I truly believe it's the biggest one, is the quilting itself. There are three layers to go through. The quilt top is the plot, the middle batting the 'filler' and the back of the quilt is what helps bring it all together. All the quilt stitching holds the three segments together, sort of blends them and makes the quilt (or story) whole. The sum of all its parts. Something to enjoy. When it's all done it's time to share it with others and hopefully they will appreciate all the work that went into your creation.
Creating something is a marvelous thing, whether it's thread and cloth, paper and ink, paint and canvas. Not everyone can write, but everyone can be creative in some form. It's a part of us that cannot and should not be denied.
*frogging - a term for taking apart a seam or section of work, (particularly in knit or crochet) better known as "rippit, rippit, rippit"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)