Category Archives: One Word – Encourage

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Blogging Breaks & Art Show Updates

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Blogging Break

If you thought my absence from blogging this weekend was in response to the comment that spawned this post last week, you’d be wrong. Over the last two days, I spent 14 hours attending a free online class from 6:00 pm -1:00 am on both Friday and Saturday night. It was a photography related class that offered some great information. I found it helpful and hopeful and feel sure you’ll see the influence in my future work.

The Art Show

I wanted to share a few photos from the art opening last week that showcased the work of the students at our village primary school. If you remember, I wrote about the after school class which was the work of my friend Tina who had great help and support from Lara, another talented friend of mine.

Tina & Lara before the show with the student’s art.

Tina put together a book of photos and even printed my blog post about the class and put it in the book as well.

People were encouraged to take the art books off the wall display to have a proper look.

Tina is talking with our friend and neighbor Betty who is wearing blue, and Betty’s friend Beryl, in red.

There were loads of people for the opening and the children seemed pleased by the interest of so many. The show will be available to see for the next two weeks.

I remember this little girl from the class and it was great to see her explaining her work with such confidence.

There were yummy treats, teas, juices, and coffee.

There was even a book to sign at the entrance just like you’d see at any art show and in all the excitement, I forgot to sign it.

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Life Lessons In An After School Art Class

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When you’re known for always having a camera in your hand, you sometimes get requests to snap a few photos at different events. When it’s possible, I like to say yes. Last week I spent a few hours at an after school art class for our local primary school. My friend Tina went back to school a few years ago to get a degree in art and offered to share some of what she’s been learning.

She’s talked a bit about teaching when she graduates and volunteered to teach a multi-week program for any child in the school who wanted to attend. Around 22 of the 32 students who attend the primary school took advantage of the opportunity and Tina had a mix of ages to work with from 4-11. Their work will be displayed at a local venue later this week giving the children a chance to be in art show open to the community.

I almost always learn something myself when I photograph events like these and I was reminded of a few simple life lessons while photographing the class and even helping a time or two when needed.

I wanted to share a few of the almost 150 images I snapped last week and I’ve intentionally chosen those that did not show the children’s faces directly. You can click to enlarge any with the exception of the second to the last one as a child’s face is slightly visible. I included that one only so you might see one of Tina while she was teaching and it had the least amount of little faces looking up in it.

Things to remember as we grow older.

Concentration and focus are required when doing your best work.

I took a series of photos of this child and she never looked up from her work. What drew me in was the way she had the tip of her tongue out which is something I have always done when concentrating on a task. I wonder how many of my readers do this too.

Help one another when you see someone struggling.

In this instance, an older girl of about ten or eleven saw a younger boy who said he was four, having trouble putting his book of artwork together. She helped him with his before working on her own and was finishing hers up alone when the others at her table had moved on to something else.

The red or blue test, sometimes having fewer choices makes choosing less stressful.

When I saw the two primary colors that the children could choose from to make their prints, I thought of how much easier a decision can be if the choice is limited to an either “this or that” decision. I may try narrowing the field the next time I get stuck.

Know your limitations and how to ask for help.

Tina could have pulled this off by herself, but the quality of the experience would not have been as nice for her or the children. She had fabulous help from a local artist friend and mom to a boy in the school. (He’s one of my very favorite children to talk with and a total sweetie!)

Controlling the situation when speaking to a large group.

Deliver your message in a calm manner acting as if you expect people will want to hear what you have to say even if the situation feels overwhelming. It’s difficult for people to continue to be rude and disrespectful if you refuse to join them there. Model the behavior you want others to emulate.

Share your gifts with others.

We all have something that makes us special, a gift that is uniquely ours. You may not know what your gift is or you may be someone who discounts their contribution. Take a moment to think of three things that you like about what you do or who you are. Leave it in a comment if you feel brave so it will be here if you ever forget.

Don’t be afraid to try new things.

Remember what it’s like to view the world with fresh eyes and the enthusiasm of a child. If you’ve dreamed of doing something, try it and don’t stop because it isn’t perfect right from the beginning. And if you’re going to use the work of others to dismiss your own, make it a level field.

Go back to their early work when they were new at whatever they do now that you wish you could do as well, and see what their work looked like in the beginning. I’ve done this and it’s a wonderful way to remind ourselves that no one begins anything at an expert level. Stop comparing and get busy. Don’t die without trying to create the life you dream of living.

Working in community has its own gifts.

Once we get past our insecurities over whose work is better, we can enjoy the support that comes in connecting with people who share common interests. We can mentor and be mentored once we find our place. Begin today if you’ve been putting it off, ask someone for directions if you need help or offer some if you sense someone hanging about the edges unsure of which way to go.

Celebrate your achievements.

I took this photograph of Tina last year during the opening night of her college art show. She had several pieces entered and this one was my favorite. It was fun to be there to share the excitement and see her work in a more formal setting than her studio space at home and I’m pleased that she is wrapping up her art class with a similar experience for the children who participated. I’m planning on going and taking a few photos for a little write-up for our parish magazine. I may not be writing for some of the ” big ” magazines I’d like to, but putting it out there for others will likely make a young artist smile.

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Finding The Inspiration For “Dear Madame”

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As promised, I’m back to reveal the winner of the randomly drawn comment contest. If you guessed Patricia, you’d be right. Patricia’s comment was the one selected by random.org, but I have to say that I found parts of some of the other comments popping up when there was an opportunity to be included.

When I sat down to write the mini short story on Thursday, I had a vague idea of direction based on Patricia’s comment about her mother and her research into their family history. With only a few hours to devote to the project as we were expecting John’s daughters for the weekend with one arriving that night, my Thursday had a few other things demanding my attention and distractions were everywhere.

I always wish to deliver interesting writing, but initially I felt bored by my idea and struggled with the opening paragraph as well as the direction. This changed when I allowed the words to just come and Patricia’s character to show me who she was instead of forcing her to be rigidly defined by what I thought she would say, think, or do. I tend to think first of all the things my characters would never do instead of letting them have more choices. I often did this with my characters when I was acting as well and lack of choice is no good for writing, acting, or real life.

Real life … just writing that makes me wonder if I’ve been braver and more risk taking in my life than I allow for my writing and my characters. I’ll have to give that some thought.

If you had trouble deciding which comment I used, it might be because of the bits of others I mentioned including as well. Windy’s comment had much of her history in a few short paragraphs with one containing the number 17 and it’s significance in her life. Heiko also included numbers in his comment and so the number 6 found its way into my story as well. The mysterious letter had roots in Windy’s correspondence with her English pen-pal, although I think you will find that despite the letter’s UK return address, the way it begins with the words, ” Dear Madame ”  is designed to show that the writer is not British, but French.

Thanks to your enthusiasm for this little story and based on your request for more, I’ll continue, ” Dear Madame ”  in a post during the coming week.

I’m including the comments from the initial post found here along with a few follow-up thoughts from me. I really enjoyed your comments and special thanks to all of you commenting for the first time especially those who mentioned they had been reading for a while. It’s lovely to “meet ” you and I hope you will continue to add your thoughts when you feel inclined.

  1. preobrazhenskii on March 28, 2011 at 12:40 pm said: The quote by W.B. Yeats is indeed quite apt, and your post does reflect upon what we are searching for when reading other peoples blogs.
    Preobrazhenskii ~ I would love to be able to get to what appears to be a blog, but your link doesn’t work 😦

  2. I don’t know that I have anything to share today, but I think this is a wonderful idea. I know for a long time I was afraid to comment on other people’s blogs. The evil inner critic inside me would whisper things in my head: “What if I said something stupid? I can’t say things better than they can . . . ” But, adding comments makes this blogging world a much richer place. We learn from each other. We challenge each other. We also feed each other’s ideas and spur each other onto even greater feats of posting. But ultimately, the thing I love the most is the sharing of stories–because there are infinite variations that show one thing, our common humanity.

    Lisa ~ Comments make blogging fun as well as educational (like your post the other day on rejection and publishing) and you just can’t beat the support that can be found in the blogging community. Thanks for coming back.

  3. Hi, Elizabeth, I’ve been reading your blog for several years – I don’t even remember how I came across it now. Hmmm, something about me. I live in the Pacific NW. My dream is to write more, to inspire others to reach for their dreams. I enjoy sharing your journey from afar.

    Rebecca ~ I would be willing to bet you might have found GOTJ from a comment left by me on Chookooloonks as I can see by your blog that you visit there as well. Judging by your photographs, you live in an inspiring part of the world.

  4. I am an 82 year “old lady” living in Indiana with my oldest daughter (I have 3) and her husband. I have one grandson 25, granddaughters 30, 24 and almost 18 (the recent lead in the high school musical Anything Goes). (pause to take the Dachshund out) My husband passed away when my oldest was 14. I consider 17 MY number in life. I was 17 when I graduated from, high school, was married to my husband for 17 years when he passed away, worked for 17 years as a legal secretary for a well known international company in Wisconsin, and was with my last companion for 17 years when he passed away in 2000, so I’m wondering what I have to look forward to in 2017??? I will be 88, so I’m pretty sure what it will be.

    I corresponded with an English girl through high school and until her early death. She named her first daughter Gail, which is part of my name. Unfortunately, I lost track of the family.

    I am an avid reader and was recently given a Kindle. My daughter filled it with books by authors I like and I said they will have to bury it with me, I’ll never get them all read, especially when I keep adding more.

    I enjoy your blog and the lovely pictures you post.

    Windy ~ I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see a woman with your life experience interested in my blog. I smile every time you leave a comment and especially enjoyed when you wrote that you ” pause to take the Dachshund out .”  I would love to know more about your correspondence with the English friend who died. If I knew more I might be able to help track her family and daughter for you. Thanks so much for your kind comments regarding my blog and photographs.

  5. My Grandmother had a glass case of dolls in National costumes from all the countries my Grandfather had visited with his work, and places they’d travelled to on holiday. It was kept in the dining room. I would sit by that case looking at them and imagine their stories. They were all the more special being out of reach – look, but don’t touch.

    Sarah ~ I love the story of the dolls. It reminded me of a quilt I had as a child with dolls in national costumes on it. I really enjoy being able to check in to see your lovely family and New Zealand photos. I’m so glad we had a chance to meet through Hay.

  6. I usually don’t comment on blogs. I have fallen in love with Cornwall through your vivid descriptions and beautiful pictures. I usually stop by every few days during my quiet evenings to see if you’ve posted anything. Today my sister is in the hospital, so I’m here during the day while she sleeps.

    Carol ~ Even though you don’t usually comment on blogs, I glad you decided to comment on mine. Cornwall is so beautiful and I’m pleased to be able to share it. I hope your sister is on the mend.

  7. what a clever idea. I visit you often, usually leaving a small comment but maybe not always – i am horrible with words. I bring up your blog and keep it to the side of my desktop and read on it in bits while at work. Your posts always leave me thinking and many times you leave a link that I follow and then get side tracked. I love your blog, i love the way you write with such intelligence – usually teaching me something new. I can’t really think of anything new to share at the moment maybe i’ll be back with something later.
    (what i wonder about most is, why, when i visit someone’s blog on a regular basis and leave comments trying to make friends – why they can not, at least once, visit me. it just seems rude to me.)

    Leslye ~ Thanks for your kind comments and support. I think we’ve been blogging buddies since the very early days of GOTJ and you were the first blogger I had the pleasure of meeting face to face. I get something from your lovely photos each time I visit your blog.

  8. I love the picture of the tree! And you already know everything about me!

    Suzanne ~ I know there’s loads of stuff I don’t know about you. Loads! I’m always glad to see you.

  9. I have so enjoyed reading your blog ever since I discovered it. I love the photographs, but you are also an excellent writer as well. I probably comment too much.

    I spent some time in England years ago and I thought, if I ever save the money to go to Europe again I will skip England and go to a country I’ve not seen, like Italy or Ireland. Now, however, I think I would love to see Cornwall. It’s so lovely. Thanks for giving us all a window on that part of the world!

    Dee ~ You’re in luck with regard to how close Cornwall is to Ireland so you could see both very easily. You can never comment too much for me and I always appreciate your thoughts. Thanks for your support of both my writing and photography. I always feel a bit closer to my Georgia roots when I read your blog and I’m glad I found it.

  10. Hi Elizabeth,
    I enjoy reading your blogs, and often I think about adding my little bit. Sometimes though, I head out the door and think, “I’ll answer to that one after …”. Great intentions!
    I live in the South Island, New Zealand, and this year sees me attending our local Polytechnic as an adult student. I decided last year to do something I had always wanted to do – cooking. So I am now in my second year of a Chef course. I have other passions and hobbies too, and some of these make their way onto my own blog.
    The picture of the tree and the quote is so good. So true.
    Keep up the good words of encouragement.
    Valerie

    Valerie ~ How nice that you decided to say hello. I like knowing who my New Zealand readers are. Such a beautiful country you have and I’m glad I had a chance to spend time there last year. I liked what you had to say about your Chef’s course, it reminded me of my dear friend Marty who was in Chef’s school when he died.

  11. One of the joys in life for me is talking to and meeting people, I sometimes do it to the annoyance of my wife as she always says `you don`t know them`, she has over the five years we have been married got used to me having conversations with total strangers and finds her self doing the same on odd occasions.
    Some of the ways I have met people are through commenting on pictures on their blog/website/flickr, I actually did the same with yourself, I must have read the whole of your blog sometimes commenting others just reading everything you have to say and the things you do.
    I was disappointed a few weeks ago, I sent you a fairly long email about myself and my travels and work but unfortunately I did not get a reply.
    I did mention in the email that I lived in Somerset and that only Devon separates me from my favourite county of Cornwall, I comment on peoples pictures as I am a photographer and retired from working my lifetime as a Television Cameraman, do I miss my work, heck yes! but being a photographer now in my quiet years keeps me happy and being able to talk to strangers I meet keeps me alert.
    I will pick my number as 26, that was my age when I moved from the North of England city of Manchester to Taunton in Somerset, why! to further my career in Television as there were more opportunities in the West Country than the City Of Manchester as there are less people in the West Country than the industrial North which led to more work opportunities we also had two children at that time and we thought it would be a better environment for them.
    Unfortunately my wife then decided she could not live with me being away from home for days/weeks with my work. Our children had grown up by then and had families of their own, we still got on even though we were divorced, another number which I could add (cheating I know) is 6, that was the day in February this year 2011 which she unfortunately died of a terrible cancer in her neck.
    May I say that the Gifts Of My Journey`s are made all the better reading your blog, reading about your`s and your husbands life, along with the many blogs I read and in some cases the people I have met through their blogs.

    Heiko

    Heiko~ I think I covered you in the comment below. I’ve been trying to get back to a proper email, but can’t seem to get there. I’ll hope you’ll let this be enough. Thanks so much for reading and commenting.

  12. Heiko ~ Let me first say that I am sincerely sorry I did not get back to you. I do remember your email and thought at the time how lovely it was that you took the time to share so much. While I am not the best at email follow up sometimes, I don’t normally drop the ball so completely. I just went back through my email and found yours and promise to get back to you with a proper response. I do appreciate the connections and people I meet through blogging and I’m glad you came back and reminded me of my tardiness. I can assure that it was not an intentional omission, but rather a distracted oversight. Looking back, I feel sure that I meant to share your email with my husband before I replied, as his career was in television too and I just did not get back to it. I hope you will accept my apology. :-(

  13. I hope you will accept my apologies. :-(
    Elizabeth, Accepted Thank You

    Heiko

  14. Hi! I’m the Florida gal who won the CD from you a while back. I did enjoy the music and want to thank you again.
    What resonated with me recently? Actually, your series on your trip to New Zealand did. I had not talked about that part of your blog with my husband, and he suddenly informed me that he would like to move there some day. My husband is a Florida boy who has always said that he never wants to move, yet he is suddenly planning a future like that! Needless to say, I found myself going back and looking at your beautiful pictures again. Yes, even after the earthquake, we think that we would like the change. It would have to be after little boy goes to college, giving us some time to plan.

    Cindy ~ Good to see you again! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed Benjamin’s CD. How funny that your husband has decided New Zealand is the place for him earthquakes and all especially after seeming as if he’d never leave Florida. I need to post some more NZ pics because I have so many amazing shots of that beautiful county. Maybe you could plan a family trip when your son is a little older. We saw a fair amount of people traveling with children. Thanks for saying hello and sharing your comment.

  15. I just began reading your blog. I followed a link from another blog, then subscribed because I enjoy reading your posts and I love Cornwall (it’s so different from where I live in the southwestern US). My mother is a couple of generations removed from the tin mines near St Just, and we shared a wonderful trip to Cornwall almost 20 years ago. If it’s possible to be homesick for a place you’ve visited only once, then I am–and your photos are a wonderful ticket back to that lovely place. I look forward to reading your story as it unfolds.

    Barb ~ I believe it is certainly possible to be homesick for a place you’ve only seen once. I felt that way about the Isle of Skye after the first time I went in 2003 on a trip with my daughter. I went back again in 2004, 2005, and 2008 and John and I will go again later this year. Cornwall has a beauty and pull just as strong although it’s different from the western highlands. I’m glad my photographs make you feel like you’re able to see Cornwall again. Come back whenever you need a little holiday and please say hello.

  16. Sabrina on March 29, 2011 at 6:56 am said:

    I read your blogs all the time over tea before work, or late at night after a long day haha. I am a 22 year old writer who is currently in the USAF. I enjoy seeing the photos of England and your life that you share and the stories make me laugh, make me cry, make me think of situations that I have been in that are similar. I like having a place to go to read something that I enjoy.

    Sabrina ~ I love seeing a young service member who is female reading my blog and finding common ground. You may know about my own time in the military from some of my previous blog posts. I’d be interested in reading your writing, is there a place where your work is available to read? Thanks again for commenting.

  17. Patricia on March 29, 2011 at 7:31 am said:

    Hi Elizabeth –
    I happen to be a new reader having just found you on Sunday the 27th in the comments section of the Shutter Sisters website (Mar 26th entry about “No Trespassing” and the lengths we’ll go to get the perfect shot). I love reading comments and I tend to be a silent lurker but today you inspired me to answer your call to make some noise.
    The first entry I read on your blog was about the UK Census. Seeing those old census records pictured on your site took me back to my childhood. When I was a kid, my mother decided to research and record our family tree. My mom always loved working out puzzles so this was a challenge that appealed to her…find the pieces, put them together, new mysteries revealed or old mysteries solved… I remember summer vacations at my grandparents’ home in the Ottawa Valley area where day trips wouldn’t be complete without a stop to find a particular headstone at one graveyard or another located on dry, dusty country roads (they all seem to be located on dry, dusty country roads…). This also included the bonus of visits to the more mature members of the family from other “branches” of the “tree” who, although were well-known to my mother and grandparents, were really just strangers to me. At the age of 12, this did not spell F-U-N. I suppose that sentiment might be predictable for most 12 year-olds, but it is truly one of those experiences that I find unforgettable (in a good way!).
    Now in my mid-forties, of course, my appreciation for what my mother was working to achieve increased over the years, especially as the family tree grew and spots were being filled with names and historical details. Mom passed away 3 years ago. Amongst her belongings was a giant bin of “research” that I did not have the heart to go through or toss out…I strongly suspect there’s golden clues hidden in there. As the eldest child in my family and eldest grandchild of our clan, I’m feeling the urge to continue where my mother left off. She made it about 5 or 6 generations back on the tree and I think the next step will involve a trip across “the pond” to investigate our British roots. A daunting task but exciting to wonder where it will all lead…hopefully the discovery of relatives past and maybe even present!
    Looking forward to reading future posts and getting to know you better…

    Patricia ~ Well, you know by now that your comment was the WINNER!  I’m so glad you decided to share your story. My husband is very into his family history having picked up where his dad left off when he died. Instead of a “giant bin” of research like your mom had, he opened the garage to find it stacked full of documents his dad had accumulated from his years of research. Thanks again for taking time to comment and please come back.

  18. Mariellen on March 29, 2011 at 8:56 am said:

    Well I share from time to time, in a somewhat opinionated way I fear, but do not blog enough myself – fancy being on a writing course as I am right now ..and not writing much!?! Actually we are writing loads, but in in-class exercises.

    Looking forward to sharing more with you and your readers. Soon.

    Absolutely loved the tree pic, one of your many beautiful photos.

    Mariellen ~ You are never too opinionated for me! You should blog more often as you do it so well. I can’t wait to hear all about your classes.

  19. What a good idea, Elizabeth. I often wonder why more people don’t leave comments and wonder if I scare them with my opinionated ways. I definitely lack your charm, my friend, but it’s hard to be charming with all the crap going on in the U.S. Maybe that’s why I like to visit here, to be transported to a tranquil, lovely place far away from the reach of Fox News.

    Jayne ~ I’m always happy to see you. You get tons of comments on your blog … what are you talking about? If you’re interested in meeting a Cornish man, I’ve been checking one out for you in the village, plus there are loads of people with horses here.

  20. Gifts of the Journey became one of my blog favorites because I’m an Anglophile at heart, especially intrigued by Cornwall. I’ve not been to Great Britain yet but it’s in my bucket list. Your site beckoned also because of the photographs.

    There is no particular story attached to me, wife, mother, grandmother; still working but hoping to retire soon so that I might spend more time on my passion: photography. Right now there are not enough hours in the day to do all the ideas in my head!

    As I’ve followed your blog, I’ve become more drawn in by the personal narrative that you share so openly with us. Isn’t it funny how reading blogs can make you feel like the writer is your friend? It’s the same way with online photo groups. I have a group of online photography gal pals that I feel are friends, and am convinced that if ever we meet in person, we’ll sit and chat like we’ve known each other for years.

    One of the most exciting things about online followings and groups is the opportunity to view life as it is around the globe, see the things that are different than our home base, yet the things that are so much the same. It is indeed, “a small world after all.”

    Dotti ~ I’m glad to read your comment and have a chance to explore your lovely blog. It feels as if I’ve been there before and makes me wonder if you’ve commented in the past. I know what you mean about the writer feeling like a friend and think that’s one of the best parts of blogging. If UK travel is on your list, I hope you are making a plan to get here. I tell people not to wait until you are retired … travel while you are able do and see all that you’ve dreamed of over the years. Come to the UK while you are able to walk the coast paths with ease and climb the mountains in Scotland and Wales.

  21. I’ve been in love with Cornwall since I was a teenager. I first discovered it in the Victoria Holt novels and then was rekindled by it in Frenchman’s Creek.

    I had been to England before, but had never been to Cornwall so in 2004 my boyfriend at the time (now husband) and I took a trip down. I didn’t get to see Falmouth (which is what I really wanted to see because of Frenchman’s Creek) nor did I get to see Bodmin Moor (the other piece I wanted to see) but, I was able to spend a few days along the shore and experience how amazing it is.

    I’m moving to London in 10 weeks…so I’ll be looking for pretty much any excuse I can to go see what I saw in books in my childhood….

    Sarah B ~ I’ve been enjoying your blog for a while although I’m not sure how I found it. I know you’re pretty excited to move to London and if you want a look at Falmouth, I may have some photographs from visits there. John had a sailboat in Falmouth when I first met him and his brother sails out of the marina still so we’re no strangers to the area. You’ll have to plan a Cornwall trip once you settle in London. You’re moving at the best time of the year which is pretty jammy. (British expression for lucky) Thanks for reading and commenting.

    Heidi Partin on March 30, 2011 at 10:07 pm said:

  22. I have enjoyed reading your blog for about a year now. Your writing brings me peace. Your pictures bring me beauty. Peace and beauty always seem to go together, don’t they?

    I am 42 years old and am going through a mid-life crisis, I guess. My outside life is so “normal” but my inner self is in chaos. I am trying to get a grip of that. I have 3 children between 16 and 11. My youngest is high functioning autistic. I know I have been a good mother. There is much more mothering to do still but I can’t help feel unsatisfied. Is this it? I have stayed home all these years to nurture, to love, to clean, and to be there for them. I all of sudden feel quite empty.

    No one has really been there for me. My husband is a good husband; he provides and is there when needed; but we are task masters and no longer dream makers. I wonder when things changed for us. How sad not to know.

    And so you give me inspiration in your journey. Your journey has taken many turns from what I have read and yet you still have enough flame to make changes, to take leaps. Someday, I hope to dream again.

    Heidi ~ You sound as if you are certainly in the middle of what can be seen several ways. Judging by your age and that of your oldest child, you and I became mothers at about the same age. While I only have one daughter, I do understand some of what you are feeling. I think you have summed up the feelings of many your age who are at your stage of life when you said, ” we are task masters and no longer dream makers.” I imagine that you do for others all day long and feel as if you must steal time for yourself. To dream new dreams or find ways to revive old ones, you need to be rested and you need time to think. I’m sure that may seem impossible, but I encourage you to find a way to do that for yourself. I hope I don’t sound as if I have all the answers because I certainly don’t. Thanks for taking time to read and comment and I’ll hope you’ll keep coming back.

  23. I regularly read your blog to see what’s new and there are often surprises – like you were a professional actor. I also check in on 2 other blogs I like – a young mother in Israel – lizraelupdate.com and my niece’s blog – saratoday.wordpress.com
    The young mom is Israel is expecting her 2nd baby or has already had her. She is a trooper. My niece lived in Birmingham, England for a few months for her husband’s job and blogged about it a couple years ago.

    Three is enough for me for regular reading of blogs because it could take all day to have so many blogs to read, although there are many good ones out there.

    My projects for this coming season are planting more in my garden. I will have a booth at a farmer’s market the Fridays in August, and I want to make some more lye soap and crafts for that, besides flowers and hopefully veggies. I have plenty of herbs already growing each year plentifully. I also want to finish painting our basement and paint a bathroom and the living room and clean carpets with our Kirby, which I love.

    Our daughter has been teaching English in Azerbaijan the last few months and will return next week for another semester of teaching, so helping her to get ready to go.

    Jill ~ I am really honored that of the three blogs you read, mine is one of them. Thank you. It sounds as if your summer is going to keep you too busy to blog yourself although I’ll keep an eye for new posts at your place.

  24. Roisin on March 31, 2011 at 8:47 pm said:

    I am one of your silent readers, I never comment (not gutsy enough normally) but will take the opportunity now. Like others I enjoy your photos and comments and I’m lucky enough to also live in Cornwall but further west. I’ve only lived here for 5 years so enjoy reading about places I have not been to yet and places and things I find familar, (such as your ‘dancing ladies’ – I also look forward to seeing them as it means the home stretch is just ahead). Finally, I discovered last year that we share a birthday, although I’m a little younger and would have been toddling around when you were at your concert in 1976!

    Roisin ~ You can’t imagine how delighted I was to see your comment. I can’t believe we live so close to each other here in Cornwall and we share a birthday too. We’ll have to get together for a face to face meeting even if I’m a bit older. 🙂 Please send me an email so I can get in touch with you. (My email address can be found on my “Who am I” page)

  25. I’m Gina, an Irish girl living in Australia. I have commented before. I have no idea how I ended up finding your blog but I find it is one of the more mature ones I read. Some of my regular blogs I read are full of the funny stories of raising young kids and some I read because they are more inspiring, often in a photography sense. I love yours because you combine really beautiful photography with often thought provoking words.

    I often find myself in work thinking back to the topic you have written about. I find I begin composing my own comment in my head and yet not so often actually finding the time to re-open your blog entry to put those thoughts to actual words!

    I look at the statistics of people who visit my blog and I do wonder who they might be. I have found it fascinating reading the comments left here so far. To see the wide range of ages and types of people who enjoy your words as much as I do!

    Gina ~ I feel as we’re old friends the way we visit back and forth. I may not comment often on your blog, but I always stop by for a look when I see you in my google reader. Thanks so much for your kind comments and support.

    Thanks again everyone!

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A Story To Share – Not Just Mine, But Yours

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If what I say resonates with you, it is merely because we are both branches on the same tree. ~ W. B. Yeats

I sometimes wonder about the people who visit me here without saying hello. I see them in my sitereader and imagine them reading over coffee or sharing something they’ve found on my blog with someone else in their lives the way I do myself when I find a blogger whose posts resonate with me.

If you are one of the silent, won’t you say hello today and tell me something about yourself. Simple or complex one, I’d like to know more about you.

If you are feeling brave, you might share a dream you have when you are alone in your thoughts or perhaps a secret no one knows about you.

If that makes you feel too exposed, you might tell me which of my earlier posts resonated with you most and why.

Even if you comment regularly, you can share something new. And because it’s often said that there are gifts in being heard, I am going to offer one more.

Using a random number generator to choose a comment, I’ll use something you say in yours to create a mini short story for you.

Comment before Wednesday ends and I’ll choose the winner at 8:00 am (UK time) on Thursday, and post your story this Friday.

 

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Inspire Or Enflame – The Power Of Words

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When I was the not so sweet sixteen year old you see below, I thought my dad often talked a load of rubbish. Okay, I would not have used the term, ” load of rubbish ” as that expression has only crept into my daily language since marrying my British husband and moving to Cornwall, but it sounds nicer than what I actually said to him about his way of speaking when I was a teen with an opinion on everything.

Elizabeth Harper - Christmas 1976

I ridiculed my poor father unmercifully about the way he spoke every time he gave me what I saw as a lecture, choosing to focus on how he was speaking rather what he was saying. Looking back, I can see that he was trying to inspire, but his word choices then only enflamed the attitude of a teenage girl who could finally speak her mind without fear of being slapped in the mouth. Having moved to the safety of his home from my childhood house of horrors, I pushed almost every boundary that he and my poor step-mom suggested or imposed.

Soft spoken and always careful to use both good diction and the right words, if he lived here in the UK, one might be tempted to say his speech was a bit ” posh.” I remember many conversations where he would try to impress upon me the importance of speech and the perceptions of others particularly if one had a tendency to sprinkle too much color into a conversation with the use of what I would have referred to as swear words and he would have called profanity.

Pushed to his limit

My father died just over 20 years ago and I can’t remember how many times I’ve told this story since then. It’s been a funny way to share who he was with people who never had a chance to get to know him. People like my daughter Miranda who might have enjoyed a chat with him about her sometimes colorful speech had he lived.

Gene Harper WIth Granddaughter, Miranda

The only time I heard him swear

When I was dating my high school sweetheart, I was so ” Scott this and Scott that ” during those days that I’m sure my dad was concerned about the amount of time we were spending together. First loves can be life changing and I would bet that he was worried about the possibility of things like s-e-x and teen pregnancy.

He would never say it, but I think all of his talk of 11:00 curfews and the safety of not being out too late had something to do how often he would see us in a clinch like the photo above. I’m sure it made him nervous.

Once when I was arguing with him over my desire for a midnight curfew like everyone else, he launched into his safety talk again to which I countered smugly by saying that anything that could happen after 11:00 could also happen before.

I did not let it go at that, but kept pushing, whining on and on about how I was missing out on all the fun things that friends got to do who didn’t have to be in at such an early hour. We were driving down our long gravel driveway having just turned off the main road when I said something that pushed him over the edge and he slammed on the brakes making the car slide briefly on the loose rocks as he said, ” Dammit, Elizabeth! ”

His voice went high in both pitch and volume with his temporary loss of control shocking him into silence. I don’t know what he was thinking in that frustrated moment having been pushed to the point of swearing which was something he never did in my presence and I would guess not at all. Seizing on the opportunity, I slipped in a comment that I thought was funny, but was actually condescending and sarcastic.

My response to my dad’s outburst

Feeling very sure of myself and my quick response, I lobbed a zinger at him saying, ” Pop, if I couldn’t swear any better than that, I wouldn’t do it! ”

As you might imagine, this did not go over well and all conversations about curfew ended with my being grounded for the next month. No dates, no nothing, only school and church and a serious talk later about how not being able to find a better word than a swear one was a sign of a lack of intelligence.

Lack of intelligence

The lack of intelligence talk was one I had heard many times before when I tried to fold swear words into my casual conversations with my father. I can’t remember why I did it, I think shock value must have been a partial reason or wanting to feel as if I fit in with the crowd at school. It’s funny though, I don’t remember using bad language at school because I already knew on some level that the people I wanted to like me were not people who used trashy language.

My view now

I think my dad was partly right about swearing, but I also know that it’s never a black or white situation. The trouble for me occurs when people use it to shock. By people, I am referring in this situation to bloggers and writers I read online.

I find gratuitous swearing a distraction and dislike how it takes me out of the writer’s story. Not because I am prudish or never swear myself, but because based on the overall tone and style of the blogger, it just doesn’t fit. I think the test for me is if I am humming along totally into the writer’s words and bam, there it is, a word that doesn’t fit except in my mind to shock … I tend to lose interest in the blogger.

Which is really less about losing interest and more about losing trust

This is not to say that a writer can’t change their style and shake me up a bit, but it needs to flow, not hit me like a ball I didn’t see coming. If I’ve willingly gone to a baseball game, then I know there’s a chance a ball might come my way, but if I’m just walking past a grassy meadow, on a path I take regularly, and a ball comes out of nowhere and hits me in the head, then I tend to want to avoid walking past the meadow in the future. I might creep back from time to time, but I will certainly be on guard in a way that doesn’t allow me to relax into the story in the way the writer likely intended.

There are also those bloggers I read who are terribly funny and shocking with their bad language and wild stories. I may read in disbelief at times and wonder if sharing what they say and do on the internet might be troublesome later, but I enjoy them because I know what to expect.

Yesterday, I caught an unexpected hard ball to the head. It’s happened before with this blogger and I had gone back even though something was not really right for me. As I said earlier, when someone writes a particular way and then tosses out something that seems purely designed to draw a crowd, it’s like shouting fire when there is none and I don’t trust it. I think this writer has the power to influence and inspire and I am disappointed when it seems her goal is really to start a fire in order to see how many people show up.

As John said yesterday, that’s her choice and I agree with him. Likewise, I have a choice and after dodging one too many balls, I’m leaning towards not to reading her anymore.

I’m tempted to send her an email with a link to this post before I unsubscribe, but I’m not sure any healthy debate would come of it and I’m not interested in uncivil discourse. I am interested in hearing your thoughts. Have any of you encountered a similar situation and if so, what did you do? Did you say anything to the blogger or just disappear?

I think my dad would smile knowing that for all the times I was rolling my eyes and looking bored and disinterested at his talks on the power of words and choosing the right ones, I actually heard him.

Could it be the way he said it …

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Riding The Memory Train To Destinations You Can’t Forget

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I am ten and sitting quietly having learned the reality of the physical threat implied in my stepfather’s words that, ” Children should be seen and not heard. ” Safe for the moment and out of reach of the driver, I choose my side of the car because I have learned that although my mother’s hands are capable of causing physical pain, they are attached to arms too short to reach me if I stay pressed close to the door.

My sister claims her regular space on the right side of the backseat in the only car we own and I am surprised when my mother turns slightly and reaches back from the passenger seat to give me a paperback copy of a book I will come to treasure. Setting out on a long car trip once again, moving as we have so many times before, it doesn’t take more than a page or two for me to disappear into Judy’s Journey, a story published in 1947 that reveals what it’s like to be ten year-old Judy, the daughter of a migrant farm worker.

Some books stay with you all your life and even if you no longer have the book in your hand, the story never leaves you. I saved my copy of Judy’s Journey after our move from California when I was partway through my fifth year of school. Back home again in Georgia where I’d been born, I found myself confused by many of my subjects as the American school curriculum varied from the east to west coast.

While I may have struggled through some of my classes, I excelled at reading and lost myself in the school library and books wherever I could find them. Beaten into silent submission at home through both psychological and physical blows, I longed for the safety of someone else’s life and found them in books about other children.

My mother came from a family of readers and writers, and books were always among the gifts I received from my extended family on birthdays and at Christmas. I had acquired a good number of them by the time I was able to escape from my mother’s house at fourteen when I made my last childhood move into safety of my dad and stepmother’s home.

My mother would not allow me to take my books and they were left behind with my childhood things after she decided that I could only take my clothing and gifts that my father had given me.

I remember how sad I felt seeing my fourteen years of living packed into only two or three boxes when they arrived by bus a few weeks later.

My books from childhood were marked as mine by my name written in varying degrees of penmanship. Some had Elizabeth in the adult script of my grandparents and great-aunt, while others were identified by a more childish scrawl and dated from when I first began to write my name.

With two sisters still with my mother, my books bypassed my sister Margaret who at twelve was too old to be interested in many of them and went straight into the hands of my four-year old sister Pam who later claimed them completely by scratching through my name and adding her own. It would be many years before I saw my mother, my sisters, or my books again.

Judy’s Journey disappeared somewhere along the way like many other things from my past, but the memory of the story made me talk about it at times and one Christmas, I found a used copy under the tree, a gift from a friend who understood its significance.

I didn’t begin this post to write about this topic. I’d intended to carry on from yesterday’s post about books and libraries before it took off in its own direction. Memories are like a train with multiple destinations and today’s post is an example of all the directions one story can go especially when writing about it.

John came into my studio space about a week ago and said that he thought I needed to write my story. I told him that memoirs were filling the shelves of bookstores everywhere and people were beginning to write disparaging reviews about those who spilled their secrets in a book for all to see. I added that there were many stories out there like mine and why add one more to the mix. I said I was bored with it most days and imagined others might be as well.

I went on to say that there were parts he did not know and more still that the people involved might not want shared, but he reminded me that it is my story and said quietly that he thought it would be good for me, and to think first about myself in the writing process and not worry about the rest.

Yesterday, I was reading what this gifted writer said here about how writing heals and intellectually I know she’s right. I’m sure John is on to something as well, knowing me as he does.

It’s always bothered me seeing my name replaced in books that had been mine, so much so that I don’t have those books with me anymore. I offered them to my daughter in case she has children one day, although she might rather have new books than those with such a sad history. I mean really, how would she explain that to her children …

I wondered what my sister Pam thought as she was too young to remember me when I left. Did they bother to explain the name already in the books or did they say, ” Just scratch it out and put your own in there.”

I thought about what my sister Margaret said about how they never said my name in the house after I left, how my mother and stepfather if pressed by situation would only refer to me as, ” The one who left,” which made me sad on earlier reflection, but now feels more like the name you might give warrior who was brave enough to leave on a vision quest.

As to healing through writing my story, I thought I had done most of that by talking with two remarkable women I’ve mentioned before, but perhaps writing my story rather than telling it might be a good next step whether anyone ever reads it but me.

Time now for she who has been called, ” The One Who Left ” to go out for some sunshine and exercise. Having worked on the past a good bit today, it’s time now to work on my body.

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Compassion Cake, A Sad & Sweet Recipe

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Normally a woman with a ferocious sweet tooth, my lack of  interest in the extra cake I made today surprised me. It was a new recipe and I made two to be sure it was a good one.

If you read my post yesterday, then you know our neighbor’s husband died suddenly at home on Sunday. I deliberated a great deal about how I might offer support based on the different customs here in England versus my home in the American South and slipped a card through the door on Monday following the guidance of some close to me locally. Still … I felt as if I needed to do more.

After writing about my feelings yesterday, I received many helpful comments most of which seem to suggest that it would be okay for me to follow my heart rather than the generally accepted behavior here. Thank you for that. I appreciated all who took time to comment or to email me privately. It was just what I needed to make me dust off my cake pans and look for the right recipe.

Watching the cakes baking today made me sad and no amount of sugar could change it for me. The extra cake John and I sampled tasted fine, but I wondered aloud to him if he thought it was too dry. He said that it was as light and fluffy as it looked and that it was certainly not dry. After another bite, I decided that it must be the sadness I was feeling that made seem as if it was sticking in my throat.

As soon as the other cake cooled enough to wrap it, I walked next door and knocked softly. I introduced myself to a relative and after explaining briefly who I was, gave her the cake and said that I made it to say we cared and so our neighbor might know we thinking of her.

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Making It My Business

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For longer than I want to admit, at least one or more of the books above have had a place on my bookshelf. Despite having good intentions for years, everything else has always been more of a priority. Until now.

I’m hoping that some of what I write this year will find a home thanks to the content and directions found in these books. I’m writing each day treating it like it’s my work because finally, after years of scribbling unfinished stories, I’m making it my business.

Thanks to everyone who left a kind message of support and celebration on my last post. Completing my first short story and getting it out by the deadline was a turning point which feels like just a beginning.

Some of you expressed an interest in reading it and asked if I might post the story. I would love to share it, but since I’ve entered it in a competition, I can’t post it here. I am grateful for your interest and hope you’ll be able to see it somewhere soon.

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In Memory And Hope

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Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

~ Martin Luther King Jr.

I know it’s difficult sometimes to continue to believe that good can win over evil and that by working together like-minded people can create a positive change, but if we allow cynicism and hopelessness free rein in our hearts and minds then the efforts of many are wasted.

There are times when it’s a struggle for me to walk in the light. On those days I try to remember what my friend Carla said to me back in 2008. I wrote about it on my first blog and you can read about it here.

Update: I had to come back and add a link to my friend Benjamin Wagner’s blog. He’s written a powerful post titled, ” Sing With New Meaning “ that I promise you will not regret taking a moment to read.

 

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The 2011 Bloggies – Who Do You Think You Are

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What's Really Inside

What my title should really say is, ” Who do I think you are? ”

I’ve just spent the last few minutes choosing my nominations for the 2100 Bloggies which is a weblog award that is decided by peer and reader selection. First you nominate your favorites and then you come back later and vote.

I’ve wanted to vote for those nominated each year in the past, but always seem to miss the deadlines. This year I’ve managed to squeak in at the last minute as they close nominations today at 10:00pm EST.

What I found most difficult was deciding which category best suited my favorite bloggers. I know some of them might be surprised to see where I thought they should be based on how I see their blog contents.

All of this deciding here for one or there for another made me consider once again how we see ourselves versus how others see us. It’s deeper than I want to go today, but I am curious to know if you are a blogger, which category might you see yourself in if you were asked to define where you fit.

If you’re curious, take a look at the 2011 Bloggies Award website and then come back and leave us a comment about what blog category you might fit into. I had trouble defining my own blog after seeing the categories and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. It might explain why I hesitate when people ask me what I blog about. Perhaps next year they might have a new category called Hodgepodge where blogs like mine would feel at home.

While I did not have someone for each category, I did get to put forward some bloggers I really enjoy. They don’t expect you to fill in all the blanks, but they do require that you choose at least three.

Fingers crossed, I’ll see some of my top picks when nominations are over and the final votes are counted.

Remember Nominations close today, January 16, at 10:00 PM EST (UTC-5) if you have someone you think is a winner.

February 1, Finalists are announced and voting reopens to all to choose the winners.

February 20 voting closes at 10:00 PM EST

February 27 8:00 PM EST – Winners Announced!

You won’t get rich from a big financial payout as the Weblog of the Year only receives a prize of 2,011 US cents (US$20.11), but you will feel the love which is more important than money anyway … right?

Don’t forget, have a look here and then come back and tell us who you think you are.