Happy New Year

Writing Under the Influence w/Chinese Democracy Accompaniment

I imagine the barrel. Oak. Nestled, cupping the liquid that is now tantalizing with the aroma of smoke, the amber color as it swirls in my glass, its wide rim indulgence as I breathe in deeply. The glass weighted and reassuring in my hand, like my favored coffee cup, an extension of the quietude in which I enjoy consumption; a luxury I have afforded myself on this cusp, the birth of a new year. I have always loved beginnings best, the sense of wonder and awe in discovery. I long to savor these few quiet moments in which I have stoked the fire of introspection, and like tea leaves shook out to be read, I approach this new year with both hope and trepidation, aware that possibility is both light and dark. Still I hunger for the newness of the year, await the pronouncement of the soothsayer. I let the music play. I am gone lost in the strings, words linger and music moves in and out of my consciousness. Sometimes when I turn the sensors off, I see the color of music. Close my eyes to experience its hue, its translucent richness of brazen gold, red mahogany and along the rift of guitar a glint of obsidian. I become a note as I blend with the sound of his voice, and I allow the words to separate from the music and the poetry to linger in my ears and I sense refinement and a beautiful maturity. I return to the image of the barrel, its metal-strapped belly, how with time it tempers the whisky, and I smile. The only sounds, music and the tinkling of ice as I float the glass to my lips.


An Insatiable Desire for Deja'Vu by Bebe Cook available from Flutter Press

Miss Piggy




This is my favorite Christmas present, a gift from my husband, I am calling her Miss Piggy. I can not see her without grinning from ear to ear, without a little smile bubbling up inside of me. She rocks, and my husband rocks for buying her me. We had been grocery shopping at Target (which is not a real grocery store)and we rounded the corner and she was there, I just started smiling, and I told my husband I wanted one for Christmas, and he made that husband sound (the one that generally precedes the husband look). Based on the sound and the look, I figured I would not be getting the Piggy, and I remember telling myself I would come back after Christmas and buy her if she was on-sale. I opened all of my presents and she was in the last box. I saw her; started smiling and well I am still smiling. I am using her to save for a very cool Snoopy for my Michael.

A White Christmas

Christmas Poem 2008

I scan the sky for the Great Bear;
whose tail forms a pouring vessel.

Visible to those who choose
to dwell under northern skies.

Eyes finger its outer rim; search
for Polaris; seek confirmation of identity.

I long to partake of the constancy
of this star like ancient mariners

who navigated the seas from
its unflappable position. I know

that cartographers drew lines from its axis;
scrawled directional symbols on rolled

parchment and divided this world
into quadrants. Yet, under darkness's

blanket on this hallowed eve ,
I think only of the babe

eyes wide in the manger,
gazing upon this same

this bright star;
and am comforted.

I have been backing up my photos and my words, as in all things in my entropic way they are on the electronic equivalent of jots, post-it-notes, written in margins, slips of paper, a bit of aside from the normal business of my day to day life. My PC is sick, very sick, and while I mourn its passing, it might be the kick in the ass I need to create a systematic back-up and to finally move myself from straddling the line between PC/Mac. I love my Mac, but I also love the ability to take the best of both worlds and often find myself dividing my creative pursuits into PC and Mac. I am also lazy in learning all of the options of my Mac software and in a pinch find myself using whatever platform is easiest for me, of taking the path of less resistance. The path of less resistance at times a strength and a character flaw of mine. I love life and loathe conflict, thankfully I have an agreeable personality and find something positive in all things, I save up my energies for those real conflicts, the ones that are important. I had a fantastic week, received good news on two young men that are important to me, my nephew Shane and my godson, Jacob. My nephew Shane passed his GED and now has 6 hours of college credit to his name. He qualified for free tuition at a Community college in Missouri. Shane has had his share of troubles and this news made me smile from ear to ear, and I had to go all proud Aunt Bebe on him and tell all of my closest friends. My godson Jacob is going back to school to finish his high school diploma, and has identified a couple of colleges to begin in the summer. He is a poet and writes the most incredible poems for a 18 year old boy ( here's the proud Aunt Bebe alarm going off again) and he has just seemed lost, as if he was looking for Neverland. I am so proud and excited for him. So I am done going all Aunt Bebe on everyone, today we are going to the Ronald McDonald house to cook for the families, Rachael is going to do crafts with the kids, and read them a Christmas story, maybe decorate a tree with them, she is still working out the details. I made Christmas cookies. I am excited about seeing Jussie's brick, I am going to ask my sister Michelle if she will let me take her toe picture on the brick for my side bar, I will only need Allie's toes to have all four of my sisters. Once again I prattled on.

These photos are some that were lost (meaning I had forgot I had taken them). I have lost poems and drawings too. Though I can keep up with my family and friends. I was looking for a picture I had taken of my sister's hunting ( English Setter not hound) dog Jake, as he has since passed and I wanted to make a portrait to give her husband for Christmas. I was beginning to think I had lost my mind, as I knew I had taken a series of photos last February of Jake when he and I watched the sun come up on her back porch. Jake liked me, he almost always slept on the couch with me when I visited. We spent many mornings sitting on the back porch just tongue and tail wagging. It took me 3 days to find the photos, and when I did I also uncovered a series of photos from New Mexico taken about the same time.

This photos are raw, meaning I have not played with them at all. I took them from the car (I was not driving). I remember watching the movement of shadow, how the clouds consumed the landscape, hovered above the horizon as if they like me wanted only to caress the mountains. I find myself aware and comforted by my own insignificance, a sense of being only a thread in a complex tapestry. A tapestry so vast and perfect that hovers at the edges of my human perceptions. My animal senses just barely comprehends. At times it seems that the filters are lifted and for a blip, a microsecond, I am aware in a broader sense, and I am left breathless.

Postcards

A .



or B ?

The Woman:In a Box



Poems by Susan Culver

I am most fortunate in the poetry communities that I belong to, I think of them a bit as of homes and the other writers as part of my poetic family. I find them safe places where I can in the purest sense the explore craft, interchange ideas with other writers, where I garner inspiration, and often where I stretch my own self in poetic experimentation and most importantly build friendships. As in all things I do, I tend to participate in fits and spurts, mostly dependent on time, but also on my ability to focus, which the last year has been severely fractured. I routinely participate in daily poem challenges at Inside the Writers Studio, where over the last 3 years I have had the incredible pleasure of reading and writing with the most fantastic individuals and poets. Often I get the opportunity to witness the birth of a collected work, a concept of a manuscript in its infancy, and to follow it through its evolution. Sometimes there are poems written that as you read them you know they are important, you hear each individual poem speak, and you know that the set of them are simply brilliant. That the entirety of the collection is such that you know they need to be read, by many, by all. The Woman: In a Box by Susan Culver is such a collection. I was very fortunate to see the birth of this collection and I believe strongly in this work. Susan opted to make this full-length collection free and accessible to all, in her words

I had initially intended to publish this work in print format, as I have done with my previous collections. However, given the current world we find ourselves a part of, I felt that this collection was best shared in a free and accessible format.

It remains as living things remain: a work in progress.

You can read the gift of Susan's collection at

The Woman: In a Box

Today I am lunch-time blogging from the cafe on the 5th floor of my building, where they are piping in Dean Martin singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and where I am trying to find a quick minute to celebrate the life of someone who came after me and left before his time. Today is the 5th anniversary of the death of my nephew Jussie, but I am not sad today, I am full of joy for having been given the chance to have him in my life, for being his gooberish Aunt Bebe, with the brightly flowered pants. Yesterday the Ronald McDonald House of Dallas opened at new house, and in the path around the playground is this stone, my sister emailed me this photo this morning and I was filled with such a rush of love, a flood of Jussie's stories, I smiled. This week I have been in New Mexico at a Tribal Summit, and I found myself in conversation with a friend whose close friend is dying of cancer, and he seemed at a loss of what to say to his friend. I found myself remembering a conversation with Justin, a conversation where he told me the thing that he missed most when he was diagnosed with leukemia was the everyday interactions, the joking, the teasing, the football games, simply being treated as himself, and not the boy with the leukemia. How this admission from a 15 year old boy touched me and profoundly changed the way I reach out to others who are sick, no longer in shocked sadness but instead I strive to make a real human connection. Cancer sucks. It's not fair. It makes no sense what so ever. It simply is and no matter how hard we wish, sometimes it takes those we love and we grieve. We grieve always, and when we are damn lucky, we remember in love. I reached out to my friend and I said, what I learned from my nephew, was that what is most important is to just be there, treat your friend the way you always did and let him know that he counted. Jussie you are missed, you counted and today I wore a really obnoxious outfit, just for you.

Poems I've been Meaning to Write

Not sure if it is meaning or needing to write. I have failed miserably at my last several attempts to participate in a daily poem challenge (I need to ask Arlene to make a virtual me with a dunce cap). It seems either I run out of steam or I cannot keep up with commenting, or the words start to consume everything else and I lose the thread of my everyday life. I begin to miss my friends, my quiet time, and my photography time. Either way I have been experiencing the biggest poetic lull in nearly 3 years. I do however have several hundred poems that would benefit from the investment of time and craft, a couple of stalled writing projects, one draft chapbook, completed, commented on and simply needing me to revise, an outline for a full length manuscript, an outline for a book of short stories, nearly 50 pages of a draft novel and not to forget that damn partridge in a pear tree. I also have over 10,000 photos that I would like to explore. Honestly though I tend to only like about 20% of my poems and about 5% of my photos, but I don't quite have the courage to just delete the extraneous.

I have discovered of late I need to make lists to get anything done in a productive manner. The entire idea of lists is counter productive to my entropic way of dealing with all things, and honestly a bit of a long overdue comeuppance for me. I have relied my entire life on that organic computer, have never kept an appointment book, never had to make a list other than a mental note, and most of the time have never forgot anything or missed anything of real importance. I have an uncanny ability to sense time, an internal chronometer and a revolving calendar in my brain, a internal check box, that has not required any external prompts. I generally do write things down, but as a way of re-enforcing the mental, if I hear, see it, write it, it is mine. Then I throw the appointment card away, the jot sheet and manage a year later to show-up on time to have my teeth cleaned. I don't use a watch or an alarm clock. I can tell you what time is it--within 5 minutes. Day planners, calendars, etc are as foreign to me as driving on the left side of the road. Once I had to take one of those Covey classes, on effective time management (was a requirement of employment) and it damn near threw me over the edge. Colored pens, priority codes, and flipping pages, it was like a bad episode of the Twilight Zone. I threw the planner away after about 30 days and drank an entire bottle of wine. That was the pre-mid-life me.

The mid-life me has been experiencing blips in my internal chronometer, has actually forget things, has began to keep lists. I have been fighting the signs of the time so to speak. I love being 46, have come into my own in my mid-life, accepted that beautiful sense of self that accompanies middle age, the sense of reconnecting with the child of your youth, the knowledge of what is most important, the full joy of living each day, that you gain. I have been that last holdout in believing that you also begin to lose a bit of short-term memory, as if your hard drive is near full, and you constantly have to clear cache. I fell hard, I had to buy a book--not a calendar, not a day planner, but simply a bound composition book, one that I can keep all of my jots in, one that when I have a time crunch, I make and prioritize my internal list to paper, so if I get distracted and unfocused (I have a bad case of middle-age ADD) that I can refer to. My best friend who is my safest of all houses, where I can go and be the big goober that I am, said to me when I complained/whined/pouted/cursed about this phenomena, simply said; it's about damn time, Brenda Sue.

See. Exactly. I started out writing a list, and here I am some 700 word later still prattling on ( noisy brain/ADD/middle aged rambling).

1. Pollyanna Reads the Guinness Book of Records (holding your breath)

2. Pollyanna Challenges the Record for Largest Rubber-Band Ball

3. Pollyanna memorizes the Farmers Almanac

4. Senior Day 1981

5. What Breaks the Human Heart (Poems 7-9)

6. Why Snow White Insisted on a Pre-Nup Agreement

7. Cinderella E-Harmony Profile

8. Prince Charmings E-Harmony Profile

9. Resume

10. From the Secret Life of Bureaucrats

Baby has used car



Finally after nearly six months of looking at cars, our daughter has her first car. Everyone is excited. I think Mike and I because it is finally done, we have been dealing with the tightest used car market in years. When we set up our parameters for a used car, we thought it would be easy to find a safe and decent used car for 5000 dollars, but we were wrong. We found very quickly that used cars between 4-6 years old were almost nonexistent and when we could find one they were either horribly trashed or exorbitantly overpriced. What we found were a large number of recent model used cars 2006-2008 ($7500-12,000), and a large number of 1999-2002($3500-6000) models. The years we were targeting were 2003-2005 and those nice clean with moderate mileage(less than 100,000) were either wrecked, trashed, had questionable titles and when there was a clean decent one, either close to 7000.00 or sold before we could get out to look at it. Eventually we broadened on scope of cars to include 2001 and 2002 models. Even so it took us another two months to find one. The struggling economy is the reason why people with 2003-2005 cars are holding on to them, unsure of the job market, they are opting to hold on to good quality older cars (the same reason I am holding on to my 2003 Caravan), and because of the cash for clunker programs, many used cars did not make it the used car lots. This is 2002 Ford Focus (Rach's first choice was the Focus) with 69,000 miles, it met all of our criteria, except no side impact air bags and price ( walk out price including, ttl was 5916.00). Even without the side impact airbags it has a good safety rating, and Rach loves the car. The inside is pristine, the steering and brake tight and controlled, no odd smells and rattles (this criteria became more and more important as we test-drove cars these last six months), has never been wrecked, and has received all of its scheduled maintenance at a Ford dealership(got to love Carfax). It has a bit of the Ford problem with peeling clear coat along the hood. I wanted it to be perfect, Mike and Rach were both sold, and finally Mike said to me, if the only problem with this car is cosmetic, then we have no worries. We told Rach if she remained accident free for a year, we would spring for a new paint job.

It is Thanksgiving and I am making bird with all of the trimmings, Rach and Mike are likely going to Car all day, Kim and I will likely eat and talk and drink lots of coffee. I miss the noisey Thanksgiving of our early married years, when all of my family was still in Texas, and we would do the East Texas Tour, with Kim and Mike's folks and my Mom's with all of my sisters, how we end the night with a loud game of Dammit or Dominoes and the blender always had something frozen and alcoholic in it. I have one of those noisey love filled loud families and sometimes I just miss them like hell. I am thankful that my family is safe, sound and loved this day. Hope the same for you.

My Dream Job



Would be to be a professional environmental photographer, to record the effects of man on the environment and of the environment of man. I find beauty and a warning in the decay of what man has created, a bautiful assurance that the earth is constant, and life's resilience is stronger than the scratchings of man. A sense of continuity, a proof that this world endures; despite us or to spite us. You pick. As for the collective us, I read one time that man had been on earth only 17 seconds, based on age of the earth in billions of years (of course I could not google that exact timeline-so consider the 17 seconds suspect). That always struck me as telling, a sense that we are far more transitory than we would like to believe.

In Search of Image

I wanted to capture how the sun bled through the trees to form a star that danced in the edges of peripheral thoughts, beautiful decay. The assurance of the earth. Autumn glowed, fluoresced within my lens, and I felt bereft and comfort together, a stirring I can not explain, an assurance that only our nature is transitory, all other things are constant.

Have been on the road, playing catch up and enjoying a bit of solitude. This weekend is photography weekend, I am working on a couple of photography projects and trying to learn how to use my new photo software, a learning curve of sorts. I have selected one photo for the contest, I am going to enter 4 or 5, I am in the process of narrowing them down. For the first time I am going to enter a few portraits, generally I do not take many photos of people, we will see how I do with those. These photos taken while I was out this week, the last one an effect, I am playing with, not sure it is very professional, but I like the inversion of light and color, perhaps more of an experiment than anything. I am also working on a full length collection of poems, something I suspect will take me forever, and likely never get published, but something oddly I am feeling positive about. I need to start submitting again, and well its been since March since I sent out a sub, other than my chapbook ( yes I know how apathetic that is). I am enjoying the pursuit of image in word and photo, and enjoying the beauty in home and family. I wrote lately in a note to a friend I am not looking for a change of venue, and I realized at that moment how damn lucky I am. With God's grace, I am simply groovy. I hope the same for you.

So Write a Poem

I spent the weekend addressing envelopes, I have already in my van 23 envelopes ready to mail, my wish is that all reach the right places. I have 6 books left of the original 35, and I ordered 25 more, so if anyone would like one send me an email at girlnixon@gmail.com and I will send you the particulars (10.00 via PayPal). I also spent time this weekend playing with photos, trying to find a series of photos that evoke an emotional response, tell a story without speaking a single word. I find it odd that all of my work both my writing and photography is so image driven, and how the more both crafts evolve they begin to blend making it hard to draw a line between photographer and writer. I have discovered a professional photo lab called Full Color here in Dallas, and I love how my work looks on their papers, I am finding myself a bit like a kid in a candy store, exploring new ways to manipulate image. This photo a tank battery at an old refinery, I like the sense of melancholy, of being suspended in time, of mystery associated with black and white photos, of late most of my photos have been in black and white, I have even been experimenting with film, though my film camera is not as sophisticated as my digital one, I am taking photos with both film and digital and then comparing them later.

My friend John ends his prompts with this line, So write a poem. So readers write a poem using the above photo, send it to me at girlnixon@gmail.com by midnight on November 25th and I will select one winner from all entries to receive a free copy of my chapbook An Insatiable Desire for Deja'Vu (Flutter Press 2009). With writers permission I will post the top 3 poems on my website.

ETC, ETC, ETC....



My chapbook An Insatiable Desire for Deja'Vu (Flutter Press 2009) came in this week and they look beautiful, was very cool actually holding one in my hands. If you would like a signed one for 10.00 ( including all shipping) send me a note at girlnixon@gmail.com, I still have a few available here. I walked around the house and showed my entire family , including the dog and cats where I mentioned them in the bio. All they wanted to know was if they could get Fancy Feast or Alpo on the side. I am still mailing out copies, I hope to have them all mailed by Monday, I had hoped to get them done by Friday, but this week has been hectic, Rachael has been sick again and Mike had dental surgery on Wednesday, and it seems still I am not 100% and am still sleeping more than I ever have, hopefully soon I can return to grown-up hours. I received an invitation to enter the photo contest I placed in last year, and have been trying to identify some photos to enter, last year I ended up printing out about 30 of my favorites, carried them around for a month soliciting (pestering) my friends opinions before I settled on the ones to submit. So far I have picked one, and perhaps have a couple more in mind. Keeping my fingers crossed to place. Results are released in February. I started a round of 30 at ITWS, lasted 10 days, and today am officially dropping out. I can not seem to be able to write and stay caught up with comments and I hate when I can not pull my own weight. So I suspect for a while longer I am back in poetic hibernation. In the meantime I will work on revisions and submissions, and revise a small chapbook manuscript I put together awhile back, one that is important to me. I began work on a project sparked by something my dear friend Chrissie said to me in passing, that is beginning to take on a life of its own, something I am calling pieces of eight, we will see how I do. Chrissie has a beautiful new chapbook How to Photograph the Heart out from The Lives You Touch Publications, available for pre-order now. Liz's Maximus Miracle Book Tour Stop 3, can be found on Women Rule Writer, I encourage everyone to check it out.

The Maximus Miracle Virtual Tour

Crosses the Atlantic
Purchase The Wrong Miracle Here! Royalties from the Sale of the Book Go to Sands - the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Charity.

The Art of Breathing welcomes Liz Gallagher and Arlene Ang to Dallas, Texas for the second stop of Liz's Whirlwind Virtual Book Tour for her first full-length collection, The Wrong Miracle ( Salt 2009). If you missed the first installment read it at Arlene Angs blog The Event Museum.

Brenda: Liz and Arlene, welcome to the Art of Breathing. How was your flight? Hope you like catfish, fried potatoes and strawberry shortcake. You're not allergic to cats are you Arlene? I have no idea why these crazy animals won't leave you alone, I promised them fish if they behaved.

Liz: Brenda, thank you so much for having me here on The Art of Breathing. I am so looking forward to chatting and feasting with you (I am thinking of your strawberry shortcake! Yum!). Hope you like the fish Arlene smuggled over on the plane for us, she is a true dare-devil...even the sniffer dogs could not sniff out this fish...it's gotta be delish. And wow! I adore your leopard print jogging suit. Arlene's dressmaker is fantastic, isn't she?

Brenda: This jogging suit is comfy; I wear it everywhere. As I read your book I was struck by several things, first by how your poems embrace the breadth of the human experience, poems that touched on love, grief, war and yet I found as I read through the poems a resilence of spirit and I wondered how growing up in your native Ireland in the late 70's and early 80's contributes to the pragmatic optimism of your work?

Liz: What a great question, Brenda! Love the term 'pragmatic optimism', and delighted that you think it exists in my work. Yes, I think I am probably an optimist, and pragmatic too, hopefully. This may all come from the fact that I was brought up in a Northern border county (Donegal - meaning a county that borders on what is known politically as Northern Ireland and which the U.K. claim), Donegal has always been on the edge of things ….tourists have just started visiting there over the past decade but before that we were quite isolated from the rest of Ireland as with the problems/'troubles' in Northern Ireland people did not want to cross the North to get to Donegal. In the 70s and early 80's especially there was always the shadow of war hanging over the county. It was when I first left Donegal to study in Dublin that I realised that soldiers with guns coming on to buses to do searches was not normal neither was the over-familiarity with the word 'sniper' …Another factor that may have kept, and still may keep, Donegal on the edge is that, as far as I know, it is the only county in Ireland without a train system running through it meaning that it is doubly difficult to get to, which has both advantages and disadvantages. Consequently, we in Donegal have been left to our own devices a lot of the time and therefore have had to be resilient! And from resilience comes optimism. Also, I am from a working class background, I was brought up on a farm and as children we helped my parents on the farm. It was hard work but I think it made me not feel afraid of hard work and believe that we can get what we want through hard-work and optimism. I also cherish humour in all that I do/attempt and that comes from my parents and their attitude to life...which was literally 'let's just get on with it' while trying to see the humorous side of things too. I imagine there could be different aspects of all of the above that have leaked into my work.

Brenda: Your poetry is a beautiful marriage of thought, image and sound, I love to read your poems aloud and savor the musicality of your words. How conscious are you of sound as you write?

Liz: Thanks, Brenda. Consciously, I really don't consider sound as such, but in my head I can hear the words as I write them, I don't actually read my work aloud to myself as I'm drafting but subconsciously the music seems to be there in my head. I trust my instincts on what fits together as I try to make the lines balance. I loved singing as a child so maybe that is connected to it. I also think that having gone to an all-Irish primary school made me very aware of language as from 4 years old, all my learning was done in a second language as I started school not knowing any Irish at all. Irish is a very beautiful and musical language and it has affected my relationship with the English language. And not to mention that now most of my daily life takes place in the Spanish language which is a very flamboyant. emotive and musical language...

Brenda: I read your book several times and each time I found myself thinking of grief, of lost loved ones, but not in a sad way, in a way that honored those that came and left before, you weave a song of living, from begining to end, as if you embrace humanity in your arms without censor-an acceptance of life, love, joy, wonderment, awe, grief, death, war and the human need to question. It is this questioning, this wonderment and joy and innate curosity that had me page turning from begining to end, and my final question is this, What questions would you like your readers to ask themselves as they read your book, what conversation with self would you want your book to prompt in a reader?

Liz: Thanks for the feedback on how you read the book, Brenda, it delights me that you got so much out of it. And gosh! Yes! What an interesting question! Well, I suppose like most poets or writers in general, I would really hope that those reading the book would find a connection to their own lives in there that would make them want to keep on reading. I'd also love for them to be find an element of surprise there, maybe not the full-blown surprise and excitement that I myself found on writing most of these poems, but a hint of that surprise and excitement. I know that when I read a book of poetry, I want to be shown something that I may not have consciously known of or felt before and that on reading a particular poem or book of poems, I get this 'clicking together' feel...which makes me want to re-read the work to experience it again or to dig deeper to see what else is there. C.S. Lewis said we read to know we are not alone and Seamus Heaney said 'I rhyme to see myself, to set the darkness echoing'. To me, this is the perfect relationship of reader-writer. Thanks so much for your hospitality, Brenda, loved the delicious meal...it was a total pleasure being here. Oh and just to round things off, can I tempt you with a glass of Baileys? : )

Brenda: Your welcome and thank you so much coming and sharing your thoughts and words with us, and for Arlene for bringing the fish and entertaining my cat meneagrie while we talked. Yes, I would love another Baileys. I just wanted to let my readers know that they can purchase your wonderful book from Salt Publishing, and through November 11 you can buy The Wrong Miracle at 40% off. All proceeds for the Wrong Miracle go to SANDs, the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Charity. Where to next Liz?

Liz: Next week, on the 12^th of November, I'll be back in my homestead in Ireland at Nuala's Woman Rule Writer Blog ….can't wait to make it there to Nuala's and maybe have some time to browse the Galway city Saturday market afterwards.

It's Here !!




Yesterday my chapbook was officially published by Flutter Press!! The editor Sandy sent me a link yesterday around lunch, and I was pinging off the walls at work, nothing could put me in a bad mood! I am sure my co-workers used to my dry sense of humor were scratching their heads at the smile that was splitting open my face. It feels good. You can order the book through Flutter's Storefront or if you would like a signed copy send me an email at girlnixon@gmail.com and I will do my best to get you a signed one. I ordered 35, and of those I have about 15 that are not committed. I am showering my friends and family with volumes, not sure they want one, but it might be the only book I ever have published. I am also saving one for Rachael's children, in the case I am not here when she has her own babies, so they know what a goober their Granny Bebe was. I am groovy, feeling blessed and happy. Thank-you Lord.

Through the Clouds








I have had my heads in the clouds, at least photoetically (is that a word?). I took most of these pictures from the plane on my way home from Lake Charles, the other one on the road to Seward from my Dad's truck. I am not sure what it is that draws me to the clouds, perhaps a sense of voyeurism, the ability to see the world from a birds view, perhaps a sense of being closer to my human perception of God, or simply a sense of wonder and awe, I find myself lost in the aerial landscape, the way the world above folds and turns, the way it mimics the ground below, a sense of being part of a alternate world, I am not sure. If you look close you will see spots near the top of the cloud pictures (not the airplane dirty window spots) but discoloration that remains on all of the photos.

I was sweating bullets when I started to download the photos that somehow I had damaged the optics of my Nikon. Yesterday I took my camera to Wolfe and they were able to clean my camera with a controlled puff of air, seems somehow I had managed to get detritus on the internal mirror, now it works perfectly. I was worried I would have to send my camera back to Nikon for a 4-8 week cleaning and I would be without my camera during the holidays. I will have to do this as part of routine maintenance and care, but at least I can wait until after the holidays.

The thought of not having my camera for a couple of months makes me crazy, I know now why most professional photographers have multiple camera bodies. When its time, I have my heart set on a Nikon D90, but for now I will use my Olympus Stylus point and shoot as my back up camera. The danger of going to the camera shoppe is that you find all sort of things that you want. I have added two new "must haves" to my list, a set of lens adapters, filters, magnifiers, fish eyes, macros,polarizing, and camera tubes these are generic--but might extend the use of my existing lenses and a camera/laptop backpack. I found a professional lab for camera proofs and recieved my first order from them on metallic paper, a set of thank-you cards that I designed for my book. They look damn cool beans, I am going to make a few calendars next month, one for my family, one of hazardous waste sites, and one of black and white stills, and perhaps one of flowers/wildflowers. We will see, and yes Sherri expect a calendar for Christmas.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Liz Gallagher and Arlene Ang, will be crossing the Atlantic next week for the second leg of Liz's Maximus Miracle Virtual Book Tour for her new book The Wrong Miracle (Salt Publishing 2009). To meet Liz complete in her Superwoman costume check out the first leg of her tour on Arlene's blog The Event Museum. Each tour host was asked to provide Liz a list of questions after reading her book. I was a bit shy about asking questions, but Liz is one of those caring individuals that makes you feel immediately at ease. I discovered yesterday after reading Arlene's wonderful interview that I am supposed to cook dinner. I ask what exactly do you feed Superwoman and a poet dressed in a moovelous cow patterned unitard. I am thinking Beef is out of the question. I am thinking that neither one has ever been to a Louisiana Crawfish Boil (except its not crawfish season), perhaps an East Texas Catfish Fry, I was thinking the Southern tradition of Chicken Fried Steak, Cream Gravy, and Mashed Potatoes (except for that small problem of beef). I am leaning towards the fish fry, fried potatoes and onions, coleslaw, hush puppies (no small animals involved) and strawberry shortcake. I will be wearing my leopard print jogging suit that Arlene gave me. Let me know if your coming, so there will be plenty of food.

Bio-Sorta
This is the photo I am going to use on my bio-page for my chapbook. I hate photos of myself, it seems my own image of me and my actual image of me are vastly differently, on the inside I am thin, blond and have no gap between my front teeth, I also am not quite the goober I am in real life. Not near as klutzy or goofy, sentimental and the inside me doesn't snort when she laughs or burps like a seal or crys everytime she watches Bambi or laughs throughout the entire movie Pulp Fiction. I am getting excited about the book, mostly because I chose poems that were important to me, that goofy, goober, klutzy me that holds the family table-lore record for once laughing so hard that she snorted broccoli out her nose. I am mostly groovy and feeling happy and blessed.

Monday-itis



I have a problem with Mondays. They come every 7th day no matter how hard I petition the powers to be, they are as regular as clockwork. Tick-tock. I had a good weekend, however as is the case of late, I am still so far behind that I am beginning to get embarrassed, I managed to write questions for Liz Gallagher's book blog tour that begins on October 28th, on Arlene Ang's blog and moves to my blog sometime the first week of November ( I had told Liz I would have the questions to her in September). I managed to get my house mostly clean, and groceries bought, and yesterday it was girl scout meeting and my day to provide the youth supper at the church. I love interacting with the youth group, mostly I keep my involvement low-key for Rachael's sake, but I love when it is my day to cook (but am thankful that is comes around once every 6 months). Perhaps it is a combination of the satisfaction of cooking for a large group, and part the joy of seeing so many young people who are joined in the spirit of faith and community, or perhaps it is because I get to eat cake. Whatever it is, I feel blessed because of it, and this time I had pineapple upside down cake (yum).

This week is my first time returning to a full schedule, I am still coughing, and still on antibiotics for another 4 days, but almost well, I am sleeping 10 hours a day, and exhausted by 7:00 pm every evening, but at least I am falling no further behind. The doctor indicated it might be 3-4 weeks before I was 100%. I am on travel this week, and I suspect I will collapse at the end of the day, but feel confident I can get my job done. I exercised for the first time in 3 weeks yesterday and while I moved slowly and took breaks, I managed almost 2 miles on the treadmill, tonight I am going to try to do my workout video. The photo, a raw photo (one I have not edited) I love the vibrancy of the marigold. I have been trying to teach myself a new photo processing software, but am still way behind the learning curve, and I find myself going back to the easier software. I am just rattling--to avoid the chore of Monday. I am mostly groovy, despite it being Monday.

Coming Soon


My chapbook will be out next month from Flutter Press, and I did not realize how excited I was until this week when I started working on the cover. This is the 4th cover I have done since Monday, but it feels right. I am still recovering, this week has been tough, after work every day I am ready for bed by 7:00. I am still coughing a new set of lungs and yesterday the doctor called in another round of antibiotics for the bronchitis, I am hopeful this round will knock it out. I am looking forward to a low-key weekend.

Photographers Zen



and I find myself drawn to discovery of these worlds, a sense of being on the edge of understanding, an essence of vitality extending itself to all life. I fight the need to quantify the numbers of ridges, catalog that myriad shades of brown, record the textures of the forest floor. Instead I sit. I breathe. I am. I photograph. I leave.

and I would love for one of these boxes to bare my name. In the middle of the forest, at the intersection of three dirt and rock roads, roads impossible to transverse under the weight of winters snow, yet I would put my name, my fire, and my love here, in the middle of the forest and each day I would trust God world's to show me a miracle.

A Different World


It has been a rough several weeks, my Mom is home and gaining her strength. She will be having physical therapy and occupational therapy in learning how to live with COPD, and the necessity of home and portable oxygen. She sounds strong and determined, and has been nearly a month without a smoke. Rachael, I and Mike have all been sick. An unspecified virus, but the doctor believes it was likely the H1N1 flu, they did not swab Rach or Mike, and mine came back negative ( she said the nasal swab was only 50-70% diagnostic), but the doctor told me she believed it was the flu, and prescribed Tamiflu. Whatever we had it shuts you completely down, sore throat, extreme exhaustion(eating and walking--to much work), respiratory distress(like breathing heavy air), and for me fever (Rach never had a fever-but everything else) Rach and I slept until we could not sleep anymore, the better part of 4 days straight, on the 5 th day we became human. I also had bronchitis before the viral sludge, which may be why I had such a hard time just getting air. Even super-Mike was laid low by the bug. Yesterday I rejoined the human race at least part-time, and today I am going to work a full day. I am still on drugs for the bronchial infection, but glad to feeling mostly like myself. I am behind in all things on all fronts, and my focus is to not fall any further behind. I am hoping that the doctor was right that I had H1N1 Flu and am now immune, but just in case I will likely still get the vaccine.

I have a poem and drawing in the October Issue of Autumn Sky Poetry, read poems and enjoy art by Theresa Senato Edwards & Lori Schreiner, J.L. Glenn & K.S. Bartow, Mel Goldberg, Guy Kettelhack, Rivka Keren, Carolyn Kreiter-Foronda, J.B. Mulligan, Kristine Ong Muslim, Katherine Riegel, Cheryl & Janet Snell, Janice D. Soderling, Rae Spencer, Ira Sukrungruang, and Donna Vorreyer. Its a beautiful issue of the romance between poetry and art and I am honored to be included.

I have been reading quite a bit and enjoying the poetry of my fellow poets, I hope to be able to share what has been catching my fancy of late. The photo, the forest floor near my dad's cabin in Alaska, he saw my black and white photos of mushrooms, and wanted to know what drew me to them, and I said, I think it is because I think of them a bit other worldly, a world within a world, unique microcosms. His response was to take me on a walk and show me where the native shrooms live. I really need a macro lens, or some photo tubes. this is the first of about 100 I took of Alaska shrooms, perhaps out of 100, I will find 10 that I like. I am mostly groovy, all things considered, happy to be here with those I love, and feeling lucky that it is not yet time to say goodbye to my Momma. I am blessed.

This is the day that the Lord hath made


One of my favorite songs(verses) and the next line is I will be glad and rejoice in it, I am wondering if God meant to include Mondays. Today I am home, and I am glad. I have spent nearly 30 hours in a car since Thursday, and my back, neck, shoulders and legs are barely functional. I was feeling sorry for myself when pain woke me up this morning, but then I remembered that I used to feel this ways for months on end, and since July the days I feel this way are the exception instead of the rule. My Mom is out of ICU, slowly gaining her strength, and will likely be home sometime in five to ten days. When she gets home is when it will be tough, she is going home with oxygen, a c-pap machine, a nebulizer and unable to smoke. I am hoping they give her a patch, or medicine to cut the craving for a smoke. My husband quit smoking this summer with the help of medicine, and has not smoked for 100 days. As I sat in her room watching how smoking has ravaged her body, I felt such gratitude towards Michael for quitting, for sparing Rachael and I, the effects of a lifetime of smoking. My mom is fantastic, she has always been a rock for me, a person who accepts me unconditionally, all of me, even my big goober side, I am damn lucky in my parents. I have learned much from her about life, love, about what is important in this world. She has always been fierce for us girls, now it is time for us to be fierce for her.

The photo, my cat Samantha (Sammie girl), this weekend we found a stray at our hotel, a little girl kitty that looked much my old cat Tommy. I wanted to bring her home; Mike said we would upset the cat pecking order in our home and that we hand no kitty vacancies( we have 5 for 3 people). When we went to leave Louisiana, I could not find the stray (I know I could of convinced him),so we came home without her. When I got home last night, all of our cats were exceptionally glad to see me as if they had EKP(extra-kitty perception). My cat in training M & M (mm-ers)even moved from his spot on the floor to acknowledge my existence and my husbands cat Disney, slept on my side of the bed. So perhaps it is best that we did not bring another cat to the mix. I am hoping some other hotel resident took that sweet girl home.

Today is Monday, and I have been out of the office for a week, last week our external e-mail server was down, and I was unable to check my work e-mail, so I know I will be buried in email, missed deadlines, and have a to-do list that will take me days to finish. I have to return my rental car, a follow up doctors appointment, and either Mike or I have to go get our puppy-dog, Blondie ( who is 14). So it is Monday, I am rejoicing in the everyday rhythm of my own life. Thanks to everyone for their prayers and healing thoughts for my Momma, please continue to keep her in your thoughts.

From the Archives



It's been a long week. This week it seems all I did was stay in perpetual motion, helping Rach stay on track with her homework, shopping for homecoming, physical therapy, doctor check-ups, flu-shots and end of fiscal year at work. In June Rach asked me to buy her tickets to a Blink 182/Fall Out Boy/All American Rejects concerts for her birthday, I did without checking to see if that date in September was a school night, it was. Wednesday night we went to a concert and crawled in around 1:00 am. I made myself a mental date to look at a calendar before I purchase concert tickets. The concert was great, more so because my friend Liana came in from Greenville (my home-town) with her son, I gave up my pit ticket to her son and she and I sat on the lawn, talked, played catch-up and let the music drift in and out of us. Thursday the building I work on made the 6 o'clock news when a terrorist was caught trying to start a fake bomb in the parking garage under our building, needless to say Friday was a bit strange at my office with the news crews hanging out at our front door. This week I lost 2 lbs and Rach 1.2 lbs--a good first week for both of us. Saturday my sister called to let me know they rushed my Momma to the emergency room, she has pnuemonia. My sister said she had been weak and unable to eat for several days, and that she became too weak to walk. She suffers from COPD, and even when she is well weighs no more than 100 pounds, she weighed less than 90 pounds when she went to the hospital. I talked to her on the phone, she sounded tired but her sense of humor was in place, a good sign. Im asking for prayers and well wishes for my Momma.

Change of Scenery




Photo of Seward Harbor, August 2009.

MyPyramid.gov



Well day 4 of the diet and I have already learned several things about myself and my daughter, first counting calories works great for me and Rach loathes the thought of it. Less than 1200 calories a day is almost impossible for me to maintain on a consistent basis, but I can easily stay within 1400 calories. Rach does not want to be introduced to leafy green vegetables. On Sunday we regrouped our strategy and went to the FDA website mypyramid.gov and fed in our profiles and customized food pyramids for the entire family. What we learned, is that according to the USDA I can lose weight and consume the recommended daily allowance of the basic food groups, grains, fruits, vegetables, milk and protein on 1600 calories, Rach on 2000, and Michael needs to double his food intake. The website has lots of calculators that allows you to calculate exchanges for common prepared items like frozen pizza, herb roasted potatoes, etc. It also lets you put in what you had and creates an bar graph of how you did each day. After four days of tracking what I eat, I learned a few interesting facts about my diet, I don't eat enough grain or milk. I eat double the daily recommended allowance of vegetables, nearly 5 cups in a day. almost all of the carbs in my diet are fresh fruits. The low grain is likely due to years of cutting carbs because of my diabetes, but I think I need to find a few complex grains and cut back on the fruits and if I can choke it down drink 8 ounces of skim milk with at least one of meals. I am hoping by sticking to nutritional needs instead of diet, my entire family will benefit from better nutrition. Its Monday, and surprisingly I am feeling groovy despite myself.

Me and Rach


Once again I am going to try to lose weight.  I have spent the last year bringing my blood sugar under control, trying to learn to exercise and focus on following the example of good health that my husband Michael has adopted. Michael after 25 years of smoking, has quit smoking, lost 70 lbs, and adopted exercise and healthy eating regime.  I am far from there yet, I still am at least 50 pounds overweight, and I am being generous with myself.  I have managed to bring my blood sugars under control and for the last 3 consecutive A1C have been in the optimum blood sugar control range, and the last A1C in the normal range, resulting in the lowering of two of my diabetes meds and one cholesterol medicine.  Still with all of this I can not manage to lose weight.  I started a new health regime with my daughter, we both are trying to lose 20 pounds by Christmas which if you do the math is 1.4 pounds a week, which means between exercise and food choices we need to reduce/burn 4900 calories a week or 700 calories a day.  I have asked Rach to contribute her thoughts on weight loss here, not sure she will, but we will see.   I am one of those diet statistics, that women who has tried every diet combination known to man, who loses/gains, gains/loses and about 10 years ago gave up on dieting as a matter of principle and instead focused on healthy eating and managing my blood sugars. I truly believe that a woman's self worth is not dependent on how she looks, but how she feels inside, and I have tried to not limit myself by being overweight, to still maintain a healthy image.  To keep healthy to keep active in both mind and body.  Why weight loss now?  I realized as my daughter struggles with the same genetics that I have, that she is at greater risk for diabetes and if I can help her and myself by studying healthy choices, having an open dialogue about weight issues, I can help her build a positive self image.  So we are loosely going to follow a 1200-1400 calorie a day diet, and try to exercise at least 3 times a week.  My total weight loss goal is 60 pounds, Rachaels is 25 pounds.  We will see how we do.

Happy 16th

My Beautiful Baby Girl!!

All Along the Watchtower

Photos from Lake Texoma, most taken from an observation tower overlooking the lake. A good but wet weekend at the lake, the horse back riding trails were washed out, so no horseback riding, but the girls still had a wonderful weekend, and I love just being nestled in the woods, near water, and away from the noise of the city. It's Monday, and no matter how hard I have petitioned the powers that be, Monday comes once every seventh day.