The Road Less Traveled

I have a lot to be thankful for today.  Colleen Anderson is a delight.  I recommend you visit her website and get to know a little more about her:  http://www.motherwitdesign.com

In addition to reading us an excerpt from her awesome new children’s book (hopefully soon to be published), she also took us on an excellent journey through our own creative minds by participating in an eye-opening writing exercise.  We drew words from a box that were objects and words from another box that were places.  I drew “cavern” and “excuses”.  This, of course, resulted in something like,

From the cavern of excuses

I hear my father’s voice calling

not desperate but content

and too far for me to reach.

Yeah, that’s about it.  I was amazed by others’ writing and so were they.  I know after today that Colleen is one of those rare presenters who does not make you creative, but knows ways to uncover the creative juices that are already there.  I wish I could think of the words to express how amazing she is.  And, I found out from her tonight that she is friends with one of my favorite local writers, Denise Giardina.  She even said that Denise may have mentioned me to her before and had good things to say.  That sunk my heart to think that one of my favorite writers may have been bragging about me.

I’ll post a picture of me and Colleen together later.  I look bald because I am tilting my head, but I promise there’s hair up there (though not much).

Until later, remember:  “There’s not turning back now that you opened up to your mind.”

I’m on my way to the Ramada Inn for a luncheon with some fellow writers and a WV author, Colleen Anderson.  I don’t know a lot about her except that she has a studio in Charleston called Mother Wit Writing and Design that offers workshops for writers and artists.

This is a great experience, an excellent opportunity.  I’ll be sure to write about it when I return.

This is going to be a good day, although it will be hard to top yesterday.  It’s been a while since I put my feet in cool creek water.

Every day at the CWVWP Summer Institute, we have a scribe, someone who keeps note of the day’s festivities, writes an “article” about it, and posts in on the National Writing Project’s web site.  Today… that person… is me.

I’d like to think I’m pretty observant.  There is a quote from the movie “In the Land of Women” that makes me smile… because I can relate:

Carter Webb: I pride myself on being this great listener, but whenever I meet somebody new I find I’m doing all the talking.
Sarah Hardwicke: Maybe you’re not really such a great listener.
Carter Webb: Hmm?
Sarah Hardwicke: Maybe you’re not such a great listener.
Carter Webb: No that’s not it, I’m a great listener.

So, wish me luck today.  I’m hoping I can stay focused on what goes on and do the group justice by posting a good description of our day.

Oh, and I’m going to pick up my new glasses today.  I’ll get some of my writing from yesterday posted ASAP.

Wow, what a day. As usual, everyone seems to be wore out but me. I had a great time.

We started our “journey” at Charleston Town Center Mall. After a chilled cup of Chai tea creme, I stared up at the escalator rising to the second floor and knew what my topic would be. I snapped some phots of the escalator (which has a great story of its own) and the area where Natalie, Bobbi, and I sat and filled our paper with words.

Mine came faster than I thought. I wrote about the mall and how it was an influential part of my life. Most important, it was an essay about things from the past fading away. Natalie wrote an excellent rant about not knowing what to say, when she actually has a lot to say. Bobbi sobered us all with her lullaby weave that intertwined the story of her father’s cancer with the song “Come to Jesus.” I admire her so much, not only for crying in front of me and Natalie, but crying in public because she needed to.

Our next stop was Taylor Books, one of my favorite spots in Charleston. Bobbi and Natalie listened intently as I relived the evening my friend was jumped by six guys at the bus transit. For that reason, I don’t like being in Charleston at night anymore. I toured the girls through the art studio (feeling immediately embarrassed as we passed the nude art drawings). We finally located a place among the towers of books to rest and fill our brains and paper again. Bobbi stirred laughter with her rendition of “The Beverly Hillbillies,” that told of “a group in Byrd” (meaning the writer’s group). Natalie shared a touching story of mornings preparing for a deer hunt with her father. I scribbled some lines for a poem about sitting in the bookstore, wishing I could buy every book in the store.

Finally, we piled into my car again and took one of my favorite drives, up Loudendale Road and down into the seclusion of Kanawha State Forest. Since I am familiar with this place, I took the girls to the parking lot beside the pool, where they found a picnic table under the shade of a giant oak tree. I meandered down Davis Creek Trail, where I slipped off my sandals and walked up to my shins in the clear, cool creek water.

I loved this day. I could go out for hours more (if not for the ridiculous gas prices) and find something else to get into. The most influential visit was the last, when I dipped my feet in the stream and listened to the wind, a nearby cardinal, and a scurrying chipmunk.

In case you don’t believe I waded in the creek, here’s proof:

I love being eccentric. I’ll post some of my writing from today when I get home later.

Until then… “There’s no turning back now that you’ve opened up to your mind.”

I’m sorry I didn’t post anything yesterday, and I only have a few minutes to post now.  We are doing our writing marathon today.  All of us are to drive somewhere, sit and write for an hour, then go somewhere else and write for an hour, and so on.  My group is planning to go to Taylor Books, the capital, and Kanawha State Forest.

Should be great.  I’ll give you an update later.

 By the way… so far, I still have a cat.

Okay, I survived the reading.  I was actually a little shocked that I ended up sharing the piece that was more spiritual than the other, but it worked out well.  Both of my partners enjoyed reading it and said I was a good writer.  In fact, Bobby used the word “advanced.”

One of my favorite teachers in the county once asked me:  “Were you gifted when you were in school?”  I didn’t know how to answer her.  My grades from fourth grade up were always right on the edge of failure, Cs and Ds.  I don’t think I was ever considered for the gifted program.  I did, however, live a short kindergarten life.  Two weeks as a kindergartener before I was tested and then moved on up into first grade.  There are some great stories there, about being younger and smaller than everyone else in my class.

Why didn’t I keep my grades up?  I think it was an act of defiance.  When I wanted to do something, actually felt strongly about it, then I would put as much of myself into it as I could.  English was my best subject because I loved words, I loved to write.  Math was my worst because numbers made my eyes bleed.  And don’t even get me started on why I barely passed phys ed.  But if my teachers tried to force something on me that felt wrong, or assigned something that just did not peak my interest, I would only do it if I really knew my grade was in jeopardy.

This has not changed as an adult.  The only difference is I understand now that there are things we MUST do, whether we like it or not.  But if there is something I love to do, I will often go beyond what is expected.  In fact, I may even obsess about it and work on it longer than expected.  Does that make me gifted or just a hard worker?

 Barbara, the director of CWVWP reminded me of Stephen King’s statement that if you do something long enough you eventually get good at it (I’m paraphrasing, of course).  My interest in writing started while I was in elementary school and I know I am a heck of a lot better now than I was then.  My first story was about two of my He-Man action figures coming to life and wreaking havoc on St. Albans, WV.  They even got the mayor, whose name I did not know at the time.

I think I was gifted in school.  I think I’m gifted now.  My ADHD has a lot to do with my ability to complete more than one action at a time (i.e., read two books at once and not worry about the two plots running together in my brain).  It also has a lot to do with my lack of disclipline when it comes to sticking with one action for an extended period of time (such as sitting down every day and practicing the guitar).  And learning piano?  Forget it.  I can pat my belly and rub my head, but I can’t get one hand to play one set of keys while another plays a different set.

I’ll post some of the stuff I’ve written soon.  Thanks for taking the time to read my little rant.  I’ll do my best to sit down and post on this every day… if my ADHD doesn’t have other plans.

It’s about time to share our suites for the CWVWP.  I always get like this.  On the surface, I love to share my writing, but there’s still that little knot it my stomach every time.  I almost cried this morning in front of everybody.  I know that would have been okay, but I’m just not a big public crier.  Only three people have seen me cry:  my mom, my wife, and my best friend.

 Wish me luck.

Man, this has been such a great day.  For the first time in over a week I got a full night’s sleep.  I was a little concerned the other night when I realized my six-year-old daughter was still awake at 11:30.  I think maybe she’s inherited my sleep disorder.  So, to set a good example, I went to bed the same time as her last night, 9:00.  Took me an hour to get to sleep, but by the time I did I was out until 6:45 this morning.

I’m also thrilled about seeing Ray again today.  We used to teach together and he was pretty much my solid rock the entire year, dropping ideas and suggestions that worked better than anything I could come up with.  After all the trouble I had this past year, I miss working with someone who wanted to share their ideas with me and who wanted to hear my ideas.

 Ray is the one who hooked me and some other teachers up with the blogging idea.  I was considering it before, but hearing him tell how great of a classroom tool it is had given me the motivation I needed.

 I’m still doting on this picture I took of a shiny beetle yesterday.  Here’s a fun game.  Can anyone think of a good name for the beetle in my pic?  I was thinking Billy Beetle.  Or maybe Lennon?  Ringo?