Kansas Lake Days

I take the kids to the lake a couple of times a week. They like to look for tadpoles in the shallow water, throw rocks, climb up and down the paths of loose dirt. One day we found some food container items and I started up a story about how Sasquatch had spent the night there. The other day though, I found two soggy books on relationships, an empty prescription bottle, rubber gloves, food litter . . . Sasquatch had a rough night. We cleaned it all up so the shore sparkled and gleamed again. 

Here's Julia with a hawk feather, deep in thought.

Gathering stones

Liam, on the move.

I might paint this someday. My beautiful girl. 

Contemplating life through waves and wind

Life is good

The spider on my front porch

Long skinny legs, but I do feed them a lot!!

A good tree to read under.

And that's it. Have a wonderful Friday. Coco has been purring all over my lap. She loves morning writing time. : )

Wednesday, Why?

So, I still exist in this crazy world. And I have a book coming out. That's hard to believe sometimes. I'll be busy doing dishes and laundry, taking the kids somewhere, making lunch and then it will hit me: I'm about to be published. Wow. It doesn't seem real, and it doesn't seem like I even wrote the book, but I know I must have because there are vague, watery memories of countless edits. Still, did I?

Picasso has left the building. She went with my niece, Rose, who has informed me that Picasso is happy and doing fine. Three kittens that are still around—might be here forever, I don't know. The longer they stay, the more attached I get. Coco, who I thought might end up in a barn, is now working her way toward favorite kitty status by doing a nightly catwalk behind everyone's head on the couch, butt rubbing all our napes in purring joy. Plus, she's just so darn cute. Like Sylvester cat. Then there's the Bat Cat, Opera, who loves a nice lap and is so calm and sweet (but don't get near her when she's eating 'cause she will fuff your head off). Camille/Bruce/Sonic (no one can decide on a name, but we do now accept she's a he) doesn't like to be picked up, but has a nice nature. I heard actual purring this morning when I petted his back, so there's hope for the little guy.

The hall is for play. They run up and leap in the air, scare each other, hunt, stalk; backs curl up and the hair rises. Hop, hop, hop to the side, tails fluffed out. It's fun to watch.

Somebody keeps missing the litter box. Somebody keeps leaving random poops in random places. I'm trying to figure who that somebody is.

And as for me, I want to go to Lucas, Kansas and see the huge toilet sculpture which opened recently. Plus there is a whole folk art statue things going on there that I've always been curious about, the Garden of Eden.

That's about it. The Arcs for The Soul Seekers won't be available until late June now, so I need to email some folks today. How are things for you?

Kitten Pics

Okay, per request here are probably some of the last kitten pictures. Sad but true. They grow up so fast!

 Grape upside down

 All dem Kittehs

 Total awwww moment: La Picasso holding sister Opera

 More love

Bat Cat

 Beautiful Opera

Coco's dollhouse (lower level)

Is This Thing On?

Can't believe I'm finally on my blog again. Some sort of lower life form (kid) is always on this here computer and I have to fight to get a snippet of internet time. Now that I'm here, I can't think of anything to write about. Okay, I'll update you on the kittens. They're pretty much weaned and ready to go. I've been sweating it out trying to find good homes for them. I wanted to keep them with close family, but beggars can't be too choosy if you know what I mean. The neighbor girl wanted Coco, and I thought about it all last weakened. But then something terrible happened. The little neighbor boy put Camille in our toilet. I heard a screech and ran through the hall and saw Julia cradling the poor thing with a towel. Julia told me what the little boy had done, with shocked eyes and voice. I praised her over and over for saving the little baby! It all happened so fast—I was putting away the toy horn the little boy had just been chasing kittens with, blasting in their ears. I'm still in shock! So, anyway, I'm not going to let any kittens go over there. No way. No how.

My beautiful niece Rose wants Picasso (which, er, happens to be a girl and not a boy, so La Picasso is her new name). I don't blame her. La Picasso is a calm, sweet, lovely kitten with beautiful markings. I was thinking of keeping her myself, but I'm so happy Rose will take her home. 

Coco, the cute rascal, might end up a barn cat at a famous golf star's house. It's a long story, but the wife of the famous golf star says she needs two barn cats, so Coco and Camille (whom we now know is a boy so I've aptly started calling Camille BRUCE to toughen him up) might go live the wild life together. 

That leaves me with little Opera. All black, with triangle head and sharp eyes. She looks like a bat. Bat Cat. She loves to be in my lap, and she reminds me of my beautiful cat that died last year so I can't not keep her. 

So that's it. I gotta start writing. Actually, I'm reading The Grapes of Wrath right now, but I'm going to try to write a little each day to get back on track. 

How is everything in your part of the world?

Fabric Blog Tour!

Today I'm celebrating the release of Jessica Bell's new poetry collection, Fabric ... Wait! Please don't close the tab at the the mention of poetry! Trust me, just read a little note from the author herself before deciding to disappear ...

Jessica says:
My poetry will not baffle you with phrasing that scholars award for academic genius and that can only be understood by those who wrote it. My poetry is for the everyday reader. In fact, it is even for those who don’t like to read poetry at all. Because it is real, stark and simple.

The poems in Fabric are no different. They explore specific moments in different people’s lives that are significant to whom they have become, the choices they’ve made. It’s about how they perceive the world around them, and how each and every one of their thoughts and actions contributes to the fabric of society. Perhaps you will even learn something new about yourself.

So, even if you do not usually read poetry, I urge you to give this one a go. Not because I want sales (though, they are fun!), but because I want more people to understand that not all poetry is scary and complex. Not all poetry is going to take you back to high school English, and not all poetry is going make you feel “stupid”.

You can still say to people that you don’t read poetry … I really don’t mind. Because if you read Fabric, you’re not reading poetry, you’re reading about people. And that’s what reading is about, yes? Living the lives of others?

Are you still here? I hope so!

Please support the life of poetry today by spreading the news about Fabric. Hey, perhaps you might even like to purchase a copy for yourself? The e-book is only $1.99 and the paperback $5.50.

Here are the links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Goodreads

Let's keep poetry alive! Because not all poetry is "dead" boring ...

About Jessica Bell:

If Jessica Bell could choose only one creative mentor, she’d give the role to Euterpe, the Greek muse of music and lyrics. And not because she currently lives in Greece, either. The Australian-native author, poet and singer/songwriter/guitarist has her roots firmly planted in music, and admits inspiration often stems from lyrics she’s written.

She is the Co-Publishing Editor of Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and co-hosts the Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop on the Greek Isle of Ithaca, with Chuck Sambuchino of Writer’s Digest.

For more information about Jessica Bell, please visit:

Website:

String Bridge (a novel) 
Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop 
Blog 
Vine Leaves
Facebook
Twitter

My review of Fabric:

In an appealing format with Greek text sprinkled throughout, Fabric is a beautiful new poetry collection from prolific musician and author, Jessica Bell. 

I've always been jealous of poets. And more than that, those with such a lyrical ability to capture life on page in the same simplicity that I might take a breath. I'm jealous of people like Jessica Bell. In Fabric, page after page, she transcribes her life down to the simplest detail with an eye of grace. Each poem averages the length of one page, just enough to tell a story in a few seconds. She covers her life in Greece—little things like butter knives, women making baklava, flying scarves, skinny dipping in blue waters. She captures it all with her own style of femininity and a little touch of morbidness that sometimes equates to humor, sometimes sadness. 

Perhaps because of her musical background, Jessica Bell has a lovely way with alliteration. Her words smack like bubble gum, and deliver the tiny intricacies of everyday life in flowing, beautiful form. It was a pleasure to read. 

Rambling On

This week was a lot of running around with the kids' summer classes, cousins coming over, trips to the lake, park and any other good weather activities you can think of. I haven't read much and I haven't written much, but it does take me a while to get used to new schedules, and I imagine things will right themselves soon enough.

I was reading The news out in Hutchinson, Kansas this morning and saw there's a new Bio out on David Hockney. It's one of two parts, ending in 1975. Should be interesting. I don't know why I love Hockney so much, but I'm absolutely obsessed with him. I guess I need a mentor sometimes, and he's the current object of my fascination. Well, I mean, I love his art. I love the way he uses colors and space. It gets to my psychedelic pleasure center, but I also just love him in a kindred spirit kind of way. Anyway, enough of that.

There was another article in the same paper about a local artist with fiber art. I thought her work was kind of cool. You may feel otherwise.

And then in the same paper, this little story about a landscape painter. What I loved was that his work is being displayed in different areas of the bank: in the main lobby, one near the alley entrance, others are hung in upper stairwells. I imagined people wandering all over the bank. This is the kind of thing I love: dispersed art, with small town people wandering around looking confused. There's art in all the confusion.

But I'm stuck here and probably always will be. Have a happy Saturday.