Complimentary Colours

What up, fam?

Photo by Joshua J. Cotten on Unsplash

I’m doing better. It’s like I had to go to the bottom of some emotional hole, which I sure did last week, to get to the other side.

I saw an Eastern Bluebird this week, and a mangy mama fox hath taken up residence two yards down. Murdering other birds, a fluffy squirrel or two, to feed her kits.

Blue and orange. Complimentary colours. The way of things in nature, happening all the time.

I rejoined Planet Fitness and plan to get a weight training routine going. To move again: the idea titillates supremely.

So let’s move into the template.

Writing: Revision tracking on my novel, Salt Moon, about which some of you might care, but mostly it’s an accountability booster for me; Submissions, to magazines and awards, if I ever do such a thing; and/or new prose or poetry mostly made during my beloved Northampton Literary Society (Litso) writing meet-ups each Thursday.

Teaching: Something I learned once or recently, that I would like to teach you about now. The advice you never asked for, really.

Community: Observations big and small to help increase connection amongst the unending deluge of tragic events we uncover daily.

& away we go--

Writing

I revised SIX scenes from the novel this week, all in one sitting, because my dear friends joined me to do it. I’m officially in Act Two of the book, a swath of flashback to when the main characters are kids and it’s 1998. Of course there are a few scenes that will need me to return to them in the next phase, and there will be more to write to fill gaps. But it’s happening, and that is neat.

Queen Emily Everett, a creative powerhouse, indeed. And, gratefully, one of my people.

From this week’s Litso prompt: “For Sale” about buying and selling things.

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It’s not for sale

the honking, migrating geese

the haggard mother fox

whose tail looks shredded by the jaws of another

her black-stocking legs

traipsing between hay-yellow yards.

You can’t have it

the sunshine that glints off

my friend’s round sunglasses,

nor that which glitters the coin

I slide into the meter

before each coffee date with her.

It’s priceless, the voluminous space

after great grief--a wave among waves

a vast grey ocean of money.

And you can’t afford the brittle glide

of bones moving after so much stuckness.

So don’t ask, don’t reach for your wallet.

The bluebird that flutters to the branch

before me now was exchanged

from the ache of the loon last July.

And finally I feel debtless.

Like I don’t owe anyone a thing.

Teaching

How to Recognize Your People

1. Like what you like, and talk about it. Your people will enjoy your enjoyment, ask questions; maybe even join you for that hike, that literary event, that bird-watch. But listen: the last part isn’t required. Your people don’t have to like what you like, contrary to popular opinion, they just have to like that you like it.

2. Go where you want to go. Not where you think you should go. Not even always where you’ve been going all this time, and know you’ll know people there. It’s perfectly okay to have a few haunts, but occasionally diverge from the path by following the firefly of your curiosity. Your folks will be there waiting for you.

3. Don’t force a connection. Go with the flow. Let relationships deepen organically. We’ll meet 100+ people who don’t stay with us forever. By all means, ask the cool barista if they’d like to have lunch sometime, but take “no” for what it is. Keep the lessons and carry on.

Community

So many of my friends are doing cool, enterprising, community-serving things out there. Using their passions to give to the world. Please check out their work via the links below; you won’t regret it!

Fran and her meaningful yoga offerings.

Emily and her rich stories.

Meg and her innovative beauty company, Denuo (pron. Day-new)

I love you. I love life.

Kay