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inspiration & influence writing

Novels: lost, found and unwritten

March 22, 2015


The recent announcement of the lost novel from Harper Lee, the unpublished unknown predecessor of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’, written before, that tells us the next step in the story, raised many questions.

Firstly it seems incredulous that this could be so. That such an archetypal novel had an earlier sister and that it took the events further was a surprise. How could we have not known all this time? Where was this novel? Why was it not published before?

Then later that some day, the announcement of a new novel by Milan Kundera, author of ‘The Unbearable Lightness of Being’, again such an archetypal novel and one that had a profound effect on me in the late 80s, accompanied by an amazing film. Now another novel by this great author is to come after a significant silence of more than a decade.

It set me thinking about the ‘inevitability’ of novels, about the novels that get lost (see this article on delayed and lost novels – especially one that got lost in the post!), the novels that are found, the ones that get delayed for a long time. And the ones that risk not being written at all.

It brought to mind ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society‘, “a first novel from a 70 year old former librarian, Mary Ann Shaffer”. According to the book’s bio, Mary Ann first became interested in Guernsey in 1976; then many years later was goaded into writing a book and revisited her thoughts about Guernsey. Mary Ann died in 2008 without seeing her book in print and knowing the fame it enjoyed and the pleasure it kindled in others.

It made me go back to some loved works on resistance and silence and to reflect on some words in this space:

From ‘The War of Art‘ – Stephen Pressfield

“Creative work is not a selfish act or bid for attention on the part of the actor. It’s a gift to the world and every being in it. Don’t cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you’ve got”.

From ‘Silences‘ – Tillie Olsen

“Literary history and the present are dark with silences: some the silences for years by our acknowledged greats; some silences hidden; some the ceasing to publish after one work appears; some the never coming to book form at all.”

And wise words from Maya Angelou:

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

Milan Kundera states in a 1983 Paris Review interview:

“A novel is a meditation on existence, seen through imaginary characters. The form is unlimited freedom. Throughout its history, the novel has never known how to take advantage of its endless possibilities. It missed its chance.”

So many endless possibilities, so many chances.

What untold stories ask to be written and how can we make sure they come to light and don’t get lost or forgotten?

Let’s not miss the chance.

Novel pics (2)

 

inspiration & influence music & images

A change of scenery – a photo-essay

March 15, 2015

At the beginning of this week, my partner Keith said to me, “How would you like to go to dinner in Mudgee on Friday?” This, an invitation to go away for the weekend at short notice, to meet some other practical needs but also to have a much needed break and change of scenery.

Usually needing weeks of notice for such things so I can plan ahead, my eyelids fluttered and I came up with a few reasons why maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Some of these were real. Once sorted through, we booked a guesthouse a few days in advance for the weekend and headed out of the city on Friday afternoon.

It was lovely to be leaving the city. We hit the city outskirts and climbed the mountains, making our way through fog and the sound of bellbirds as we wound our way west.

1 Fog and bellbirdsBefore too long we were heading towards our destination as the sun was going down. The open landscapes darkened as the sky turned into blue-grey dusky-pink tones making a back-drop for the shadows of trees.

2 Sunset en route to Mudgee We arrived about 7:30pm to find our beautifully warm and inviting guesthouse with every detail in place, like bush flowers on the centre of the enormous dining table.

3 Flowers on arrival 2We headed out shortly after arrival for the promised dinner date, ending up at a wine bar with a rustic and modern feel. We immediately enjoyed settling in after our travels with music, great food and good local wine.

3b Friday night outThe next morning we woke to find out more about where we were. We found a clear open landscape with the bluest of blue sky days waiting for us.

4 View next morning_1903 5 Blue sky gumtree_1907Our hosts cooked us eggs benedict with mushrooms and the most divine hollandaise sauce and shortly after breakfast we set out for a further drive of two hours to Coonabarabran. We drove through many small country towns like Mendooran and Dunedoo.

Driving through, the local Mechanics Institute Hall at Mendooran founded in 1935 caught my eye. So lovingly cared for, it stood in stark contrast to many of the other faded buildings in town. The Mechanics Institutes were the early forerunners of technical and trades education and my great, great, great grandfather was a founding member of one in Goulburn.

6 Mech Inst_1918 7 Mech Inst 2_1921

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were signs painted on the sides of buildings evoking times past surrounded by growing grass and weeds.

8 Goldenia tea_1928We headed back to Mudgee and a late afternoon winery visit, tasting organic wines and sharing a grazing plate of fetta cheese, olives, prosciutto, rocket, sun dried tomatoes and crispy bread. There was an exceptional organic rose of the most pure colour especially when contrasted with the bluest of skies.

9 Rose in vineyards_ 10 Rosemary blue sky_1952We returned to our abode in the shadow of mountains to the sun going down and the opportunity to quietly enjoy the guesthouse all to ourselves.

11 Returning and chess sunset_1955 12 Sunset doorway _1965 13 Chairs_1969 It was the most precious weekend and I feel rejuvenated. It made me realise how much  a change of scenery can stimulate the senses and be an invitation to relax, reflect and be open to new opportunities. There’s a time of transition coming up again and I’m ready to embrace it now with a calm heart.

15 sunset doorway 2_1975With much love and thanks to Keith for the invitation and dinner date and for so often knowing what I need and how to get me there. x

creativity

The art of blossoming

January 31, 2015

 

 

blossoming
blos·som(blŏs′əm)n.
1. A flower or cluster of flowers.
2. The condition or time of flowering: peach trees in blossom.
3. A condition or period of maximum development.

intr.v.blos·somed, blos·som·ing, blos·soms
1. To come into flower; bloom.
2. To develop; flourish: The child blossomed into a beauty.

From The Free Dictionary

My word for the year in 2014 was ‘blossoming’.When you choose a word for the year, it’s about intent. Though sometimes as the year evolves, you can forget about this intent, sometimes even forget the word itself as busyness overtakes. But somehow this intent weaves its subtle way and the results might not be exactly as you thought.On the surface, last year didn’t feel like a year of blossoming. It felt more like a year of ploughing, preparation, perspiration and intense hard work.

But looking at the definition: “a condition or period of maximum development”, “producing flowers”, it’s possible that this was the underlying development phase of fruits and flowers to come, the value of which might be better understood in hindsight at a much later date. Blossoms won’t happen without this work, this preparation for the future, this investment in growth.

Reflecting further, I see that the blossoming may in fact have been very long term and much deeper than I realise.

Blossoming

Before my daughter was born, I had a journal called “Blossoming”. Clearly it’s a key recurring word for me. I had forgotten this journal, this title I gave it so long ago and the intent established at that time now 22 years ago. I only remembered this and made the link very recently. In there, I write:

“The next phase is one of blossoming, flowering, preparing for bearing fruit.”

In just over a year from writing those words, I gave birth to my beautiful daughter.And for much of this past year, she has lived in Japan, studying, living independently and so happily, developing her already excellent Japanese language skills, travelling, interacting, learning, making many new friends, thriving and growing into the most beautiful woman I am so proud of. Watching this blossoming mostly from afar has been the greatest achievement of 2014, if hard at times because of distance. This letting go also part of my own growth.

I read these lovely words recently which exactly capture the sense of my growth through my daughter:

“I am from my daughter. She gave birth to the woman I am, as much as I gave birth to her entire being. Definitely not a mainstream way of looking at motherhood. But it’s true. I would not be the woman I am today were it not for her existence and her own kind of wisdom”

From “Up to my knees in the writing waters

So not so much my own blossoming and achievement, much more my daughter’s this past year, with her growth and flowering becoming my growth and flowering: the longest term of blossoming and the deepest expression of love. A precious realisation.

blossoms

inspiration & influence transcending

Choiceless as a beach – a photo essay

November 9, 2014

The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh – Gift from the Sea

It’s been the usual busy, a constant onslaught of work and travel and the ongoing struggle to create. The occasional day off work in the working week comes. A day to myself. A day to wander, to have coffee, to read, to walk the streets of my village, to scramble on the rocks, to stand in rock-pools, to look out at the water, to wade into the gentle waves lapping, to sit under a tree in the shade reading and watching others walk by and the boats, with the flutter of the intense sun on the water, the horizon out- stretched.

And to take photos, to snap the images of all this, the piece that can capture the release and the beauty of the place and the day and its utter choicelessness. No decisions, no pressure, no impatience. Just observing, seeing, watching what the walk, the day, the sea brings in its waves of moments and tides.

 IMG_96601 rock beach

4 feet in the water

5 feet in water & shells

 

7 shell 1

8 shell 2

9 shell 3

10 waves on the shore

11 sea treasures

12 reading on the beach

13 water bird on the shore

14 view backwards

blogging

I blog

October 11, 2014

beach painting

“I blog. Writing about what I’ve been learning about, and my successes as well as my failures, has been an amazing tool for learning. I highly recommend it, even if you never want to be a writer or make a living as a blogger. Don’t worry about growing your audience, but just blog and share it with friends. Why? Because to write a blog post, you have to reflect on your life. You have to push yourself a little and experiment. You are motivated to learn something useful, so you can share it. You dig deeper and find new things you didn’t realize before. You hold yourself accountable for changes, because other people are watching.”

from Leo Babauta, ‘My Most Effective Learning Tools’, Zen Habits

I so wholeheartedly agree. As a blogger of some four or more years now, sometimes you do wonder why you bother. With the big gaps in my blogging patterns, because of managing a full-time job and a long commute, it’s so easy to give up, think of giving up, put my feet up and not blog but I love my blog and what I have created here over time and the act that is blogging.

It’s the ongoing creative heart of my days. Sometimes when it’s hard going at work, I find a few minutes to look at my blog, this almost other self it seems when I am in the work realm. I breathe more easily seeing my creative other self there in words and images on the screen, the pink blossoms shining out.

As Leo Babauta sums up, it’s about learning, about creativity, about reflecting and pushing and making deeper connections. It’s finding the right photograph for the words that you are pulling together. It drives you to take those photographs in the first place and see the world differently.

I had a rare mid-week day off from work recently and took a long walk around my local streets and beaches. I took 150 photographs on that walk of what I saw and experienced. I’m thinking how to pull them into a photo-essay here. The act of thinking about that is making me reflect on my love of where I live, the value of time to recharge, what standing in the water looking out means to me, the therapy of walking and the recharging power of sunshine and solitude.

Leo is so right when he says: “…to write a blog post you have to reflect on your life.”

Whether it’s what it’s like being an introvert, the importance of family history, the struggle to write and publish poetry, the value of what you choose to read and what it means to you, the symbols that keep recurring in your life that you are noticing, learning what sustains you, the travel to new places and what you feel there, thinking about how you can be more productive, the images that inspire you or the act of blogging itself, the act of catching those random thoughts and crafting them into a piece of writing, a blog post that becomes public is a creative, reflective and life-affirming act.

One of my earliest posts, ‘The value of howling into the wind‘, still holds so true in my experience. It’s so easy to fall into focusing on the size of your audience (or the lack of) and feeling like it’s just not reaching very far and has no point. But to blog, to write creatively and publicly is an act that has great personal value of heightening experience, digging, discovering, connecting, tuning in and shaping something that might not otherwise find itself.

Blogging might, and still does for me, feel like howling into the wind but it has its own intrinsic value of strength and uniqueness that just might be of value to others as well:

So ‘howling into the wind’ is about running with the wolves and the ‘longing for the wild’ as Estes calls it. It’s about stoking the creative fire with winds that might feel a bit uncomfortable and cold at first. It’s about the strength that might come from tuning into such intuitive sources, making connections and finding that to which we belong. And through whatever means – writing, photography, a business idea, a new perspective, the shape of a poem – forming something unique that is your voice that others may also tune into, relate to and take something away from. So let’s keep howling.

beach walking

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