Friday, September 24, 2010

Time to Head Home

It's time to go  home. This is our last night on the road. We've been traveling so long that I'm having difficulty remembering the day and date; although I have to admit it doesn't bother me one bit. It's been pleasurable and exciting. We traveled to places I've never been and spent time with friends I haven't seen in a long while.

Our last stop has been Arizona. It's hot, but no humidity! Now I have a really good reason for not moving east of New Mexico. Visiting is fine but I don't think I could live there. After all, I do enjoy wearing clothes that aren't sticking to me all the time, and dry hair is a definite plus. I have no idea how my friends do it. I've asked them. All they say is 'you get used to it.' Used to it? Why on earth would I want to do that?

So we're relocating here, Prescott, Arizona. It's small enough that things still move slowly, but large enough to provide all of the amenities of the larger cities. It reminds me of my home in Twin Peaks, but not as secluded.

Now I have to plan the move. The worst of it is going through all of our belongings to decide what things we'll take with us. OMG! I can't believe we have so much junk! A lot of it is good junk, though. We have some cool stuff; a potter's wheel, a very large air compressor, a drawing table, bookshelves, and books. I have hundreds of books. Parting with them is going to be really hard.

I guess I could donate them, but that means I won't have them to read anymore. I don't know if I can part with them. So what if I've read most of them, I could always read them again. I've read some of them two and three times. And what about the ones I haven't read yet? Do I donate those, too? Decisions, decisions.

Thursday, September 16, 2010


Oh my goodness, the humidity is almost as bad as the toll booths. It never occurred to me how the country maintains its lovely green fields as we travel across the states. There are no sprinkler systems. Nor are there huge rigs spread across the hillsides keeping things green. IT'S THE HUMIDITY!

I have often complained to my friend in Iowa that her lawns are green without her having to do much of anything to keep them that way. In California I have to use lots of water if I want my lawn to stay lush and green. Not to mention the juggling act I have to keep up between the drought and the home-owners association. The water company says to stop watering because of the shortage and the association says we have an obligation to keep the grass green and attractive. It's crazy making.

If we lived in any of the states we've visited, we wouldn't have that problem. The water for their lawns comes right out of the air. That brings me right back to the problem of humidity.

How on earth do the people here make it. It's hot, sticky, and I feel like I'm going to drown with every breath. What makes it worse is that when you walk through open markets or the entrances to shops they have misters spraying the air with even more water. What is that about?

I get that they're trying to make it cooler, but it only increases the water content of the air. Sometimes I have to go into a shop just to be able to breathe. I feel like I should get a rebreather just to make it down the street. There must be a trick to breathing here. I haven't figured out, yet. Maybe I should ask somebody. I wonder if they have gills, or maybe there's some other secret they're not telling me about.

Oh, well, I heading back toward the desert, now. It's hot there too, but at least I'm not in danger of drowning.

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Thoughts and Writing

I've been traveling across the US with my husband since the beginning of August. We're due home by the end of September and we're enjoying all of the in between. While we were in Charleston, NC we attended a jazz festival. The music was great from start to finish. As usual it began with the lesser known/beginning artists and moved up the chain of experience and fame to the headliners, Spyro Gyra. This group has been playing since the 1970's. That's over thirty years of experience and it definitely shows in their music.

I was blown away by their talent, composition, and showmanship. It started me thinking about my own writing and the career I hope to have. It all comes down to time; time spent learning the craft and practicing the craft.

When I question my success it leads me to important questions: What is the extent of my commitment? Am I doing all I can to grow and improve? What is my resistance to greater commitment? Am I willing to pour my all into my writing?

It would be easy to say, 'yes', but would that be the truth? Looking at the time I've spent writing while traveling I'd have to answer, 'no'. So what am I willing to do about that?

I think what I need to do is sort out what I'm willing to do and take a long hard look at what that means in terms of the success and goals I want to achieve. The concert was very helpful in bringing me to this place. I've been here before, but not with such clarity about who I am and where I need to go from here.

The first jazz group was good. I enjoyed their music and would listen to them again. The second performer was Euge Groove, a very talented young man possessing great showmanship. He included the audience in his performance, gave the listeners what they were hoping for. I would definitely buy his CD. The last group, Spyro Gyra, was beyond beyond. Their music took me on one journey after another. My emotions were slammed. Their sound had color and texture.

How does this relate to writing, more importantly, my writing? It was clear to me that each performer was in a particular stage of development. I would say that I'm almost to the level of the first group. Again they were good, but not great. Euge Groove can be compared to the up and coming writer with a few books out there on the shelves, but clearly working on their craft and getting better with each new work. And Spyro Gyra, they're at the pinnacle of what is possible to achieve.

Each has invested considerable time and energy to get where they are and will likely continue. What about me? Will I?