Dreaming of Silver Roses » writing

My Trip to Wonderland

April — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 03:53:41 +0000

It is dark. It is provocative. Under the gothic vision laid out by Burton…I found it to be hopeful. I went to see Disney’s Alice in Wonderland as directed by Tim Burton . ( http://adisney.go.com/disneypictures/aliceinwonderland/ )

Disney’s Alice In Wonderland (2010) Cool Trailer! – The best video clips are right here

I have come to expect the macabre and somber in Burton’s art. More than expect it, I have to respect it. I couldn’t dream up the fantasy scape Burton creates!

My son fell in love with The Nightmare Before Christmas.

(http://images.fanpop.com/images/image_uploads/The-Nightmare-Before-Christmas-nightmare-before-christmas-68261_1024_768.jpg)

I found The Corpse Bride fascinating.

(http://www.freemoviestheatre.com/media/images/CorpseBride(2005).jpg)

But here married to Linda Woolverton’s screen play I really fell in love again with Alice.

(http://weblogs.baltimoresun.com/entertainment/books/blog/alice%20in%20wonderland%20via%20disney.jpg)

Woolverton’s Alice is directing her own dream. This Alice stands “alone when facing the beast”. She is a champion of her own choosing. That message is imperative today. (Yes, I’ll say it, for women today!) Not since Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer have I felt such a respect for the men behind the champion. The Hatter, the caterpillar, and the would be father-in-law turned business partner all respect Alice and do not appear in the least jealous of her success or driven to rescue her as a damsel in distress. She is a respected hero. She is expected to be the hero. The choice is hers.

Description: Illustration to the poem Jabberwocky. A work by English illustrator Sir John Tenniel (1820-1914). First published in Carroll, Lewis. 1871. Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There.

The movie is dark and therefore some smaller children might struggle with it. But I believe the message is important and the work is stunning. It left me thinking and longing for more for Alice.

Article on Moms finding Bffs on the web!

April — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 01:19:41 +0000

I don’t often repost someone else’s articles, but this article intrigued me. So I’m sharing it for all moms who surf, blog, tweet, Facebook it, myspace it, or in general use the web to stay connected or get connected. The web community is amazing because of it’s access to so many globally. If you’ve wondered why you connect with joansmith@somewhereincyberspace.org better than just about anyone in your real life that you know… well…. you might not be so alone.

http://finance.yahoo.com/news/Increasingly-Isolated-Moms-bw-510302110.html?x=0&.v=1

On Anne Rice’s Commitment

April — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 17:55:41 +0000

I found this link and loved the article on Anne Rice. I must admit I haven’t read many of her vampire novels. I’m just not a horror buff, but I know many who have. And I do respect her work as an author. I think the article speaks for itself. I applaud Speakeasy Magazine of the Wall Street Journal for publishing it and Anne taking a stand for what she believes in.

http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2009/10/24/anne-rice-on-twilight-true-blood-and-her-new-book-angel-time/

What you don’t hear about what you read…

April — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 02:49:01 +0000

Lauren Myracle wrote a book about 5th graders. She included some characters that some would consider to be controversal. Scholastics publishers (whom I have greatly respected in the past) intially planned to pull the book because of these characters and some slang.

Here are the links with details:

http://thinkprogress.org/2009/10/28/scholastic-book-lgbt/

http://onourmindsatscholastic.blogspot.com/2009/10/news-regarding-lauren-myracles-luv-ya.html

http://gayrights.change.org/blog/view/scholastic_reverses_decision_to_exclude_gay_friendly_book_from_fairs

http://www.schoollibraryjournal.com/index.asp?layout=talkbackCommentsFull&talk_back_header_id=6630620&articleid=CA6703349

http://www.abramsbooks.com/luvyabunches/code/index1.html

http://laurenmyracle.com/blog.html

The author is a NYTimes best seller. I know a great deal of the heat about this book lies in the lesbian parents of Camilla. However, I find it interesting in our day and time that there is little ado made about the book also including a Muslim child wearing a hija. Or how rare it is to have seen a healthy balanced child is being raised by a single father. The websites I listed include articles from the author and notes about the book.

What I don’t know about writing, editing, and publishing could fill a library. I’m just starting out pursuing this career. I think what we don’t hear about what makes it into the public’s hands matters. Behind the scenes sometimes should be brought out into the light and we should be accountable for our beliefs and how we treat each other. Diversity and the issues surrounding it aren’t going away. If you read, view, or listen to the news at all, you are aware that the LGBT community is rising up on a regular basis and their voices are strong. How we show each other that we care matters.

All I’m asking is that we be educated and open minded people who pay attention to others around us. That there be an air of compassion and love with each other. You cannot grow or learn if you’re afraid to listen well. Think a bit. If one person’s lifestyle can be censured in a book, anyone’s lifestyle can be censured as soon as it doesn’t fit the moral majority of the time. So we want so badly for our voices to be heard above others that we close our hearts and minds so we can shout above the din? Am I so insecure in what I believe that I can’t be open to even hear what someone else thinks or believes? I’m not saying that we should be so open minded that our brains fall out and we believe anything fed to us, on the contrary I’m saying know what you believe and what others believe so you can respectfully and compassionately dialogue if the chance arises in such a manner that all in the relationship are blessed. Listen well. Be educated. Be open. Love well.

Dig to find out what you don’t hear about what you read.

Brilliance from Kris Delmhorst

April — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 18:37:23 +0000

This impressed me so much. Kris Delmhorst’s ‘Yellow Brick Road’ (album Five Stories [2001]).

I’m off to see the wizard in his castle on the hill
And I never once have known him and I do not know him still
Because his face it is magnificent but you’ll never see his hands
And the way he throws his voice around I don’t know where he stands

I’m off to see the wizard with his curtain and his crowd
But my hands are not trembling and my head it is not bowed
Cause I’m not looking for any answers, no truths to be revealed
All that I am asking is to show me something real

I’m not on no yellow brick road, got a mind and a heart and guts of my own
I’m not looking for a one to set me free
I’m not on no yellow brick road, I’ll find my own way home
I’m just looking for someone to walk with me

Hey you behind the curtain tell me what is it you see:
From where you sit does it appear that everyone is on their knees?
Their eyes are wide and hopeful and the line grows at the door
Do you sit up there and wonder how you’ll ever give them more?

Well I’m not on no yellow brick road, got a mind and a heart and guts of my own
I’m not looking for a one to set me free
I’m not on no yellow brick road, I’ll find my own way home
I’m just looking for someone

Don’t say that it’s not lonely up above the crowd
Don’t tell me you don’t find yourself longing for the ground
And when I asked him one more time won’t you tear the curtain down,
He said don’t you know there’s nothing here but me,
And I said baby who’d you think I came to see?

Alice Walker leading me for a bit….

April — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 13:44:28 +0000

I am trying to once again plant my writing feet. Times of crisis kind of kill creativity. It takes energy to create like it takes energy to give birth. There was little energy in me. There still is a rather limited supply. I know that there are people concerned and moved deeply because of my silence. It was a necessary silence I think. Cocoon or egg like not tomb like. I’m still in it and beating my wings against the sides I think.

I was reading Alice Walker’s The Same River Twice and was provoked again to think. She talks about her circumstances and processes she moved through while filming The Color Purple. I think it is a courageous book. I think she needed to say aloud what she said. I am still processing what I’ve read, but it struck my heart. She is a very beautiful lady. The way she see and treats others, the grace she shows to people she creates in her books and those she faced, lived, and moved with were healing and challenging to me. There is a depth and richness to the relationships she writes out and the ones she describes having.

I think I needed to hear from someone I respect that even heroes need a space to fail, a space to be silent, a space to grow, and a space to celebrate victories. Alice Walker conciously or unconciously does just that. I am as I stated still processing, but one of the many things she said that is rolling around in my grey matter is:

“My faith was battered by that betrayal. And yet, as with a lover, what can one really absolutely trust? Only that or she will be themselves… Trusting only that it will be however it is, and accepting that some parts of it may hurt.”

Ms. Walker is speaking about her personal faith (her personal religion) and regardless of the object of that faith I agree with the wisdom she expresses. It reminds me of L’Engle’s quote:

When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability… To be alive is to be vulnerable.
Madeleine L’Engle

When I began working on my latest project for a class on writing that I am taking, I wanted to explore that truth. I wanted to explore something I can’t quite put into conversation. I kept hoping to find it in writing fiction. Some times that is how I find words for truths I am puzzling out. We’ll see. For now, in the middle of circumstances of crisis, I am trying to listen to a woman who fought prejudice, false accusations, hurtful unfair criticism, her mother’s prolonged illness, and Lyme Disease while producing art that led to a Pulitzer Prize and an acclaimed film. She created in the midst of pain. Sounds a great deal like birth that leads to life.

“There is fiction in the space between…” yeah.

April — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 04:42:48 +0000

As a writer, I have mulled this concept over. As a young college age adult this concept wandered through my grey matter one summer as I worked at a camp. I was provoked by this idea as an adult when I read Robert Cole’s book, The Call of Stories. I still visit and revisit this idea a lot. Maybe I’m not the philosophical musing kind, but I often wonder how much “story” is truth and how much is fiction. I think how much like Tracy Chapman says lies in the space between. Call it motives, instinct, intuition, spirit, I don’t know for sure. But there is fiction in the space between you and me. There is truth in the space between you and me. There is both in our hi”stories” together. I love the lyrics of this song.

Let’s Wrap It Up…

April — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 03:07:51 +0000

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Let’s Wrap It Up….
Current mood: artistic
Category: Writing and Poetry

“How can someone go from being so important in your life to this in a matter of days? You’re just going to let the phone ring? I thought you guys were close?” he poked at the fire with the fireplace shovel as he sat on a footrest. In his other hand he held a warm mug of cider. He set the shovel down on the hearth and swirled his cinnamon stick around in the amber liquid. The smell of the fire, the drink, and the Chinese take out he’d brought over were a familiarly odd aroma.

“It’s called screening calls. I happen to do it to various people of differing amounts of value to me. I just don’t want to talk period – to anyone. I would have thought you would have figured that out by now. It’s been one of those weeks.” She sighed heavily in frustration from her seat on the sofa. “You are permitted to stay if you can be pleasant and quiet.” She set her half empty mug on the coffee table and stretched out settling her head.

“Um, permitted with conditions. Gotcha.” He swallowed a mouthful of cider and stared into the fire. He heard her move and glanced back over his shoulder to see her wriggle and shiver. The leather sofa didn’t exactly conduct heat well. He stood, set down his mug opposite hers, and went over to the recliner and retrieved her soft navy chenille throw and unfolded it. She had settled down with her arms crossed wrist to wrist over her closed eyes. Her soft skin had lost much of the summer’s tan. Her dark lashes stood out against her cheeks. He pulled the throw across her from her feet to her shoulders and tucked it under her arm pits. She moved her wrists to her forehead pushing back dark brown bangs to look up at him curiously. It was a tender gesture and he wasn’t pushing her to speak. She would have thought him a man possessed. There was a conversation behind his eyes, but he miraculously held his tongue. He ambled back over to the mug and then lay down on the hearth rug again near the fire. His position on the rug, his long gangly legs, and the color of his hair reminded her of an Irish Setter. She smirked.

“Thank you. Very brotherly of you. Why are you here tonight? What about Sarah?” She lazily uttered eyes closed still.

“That’s what a big brother is for isn’t it? Um, Princess Sarah is with her mom shopping. I could not endure one more trip to the mall to buy nothing. They can never make a decision on anything until the last minute. They poke around at sales tables and never find what they are ‘looking for’ regardless of the ‘deals’. I just couldn’t do it again this weekend. The tree is nice. I’m glad you put it up. You could have called me and I would’ve helped you know.” He mocked pouting. “I’m pretty handy still.” She laughed softly.

“Brother dear, I thought you old marrieds would be busy putting up trees in your house and restaurant. Sarah doesn’t have you all scheduled out? You have the restaurant party and Sarah’s family. I was just doing a little Charlie Brownish tree. I can handle that alone. Which is funny because Ellie and I would watch the DVD every year…” she stopped. She didn’t want to remember. She didn’t want to miss it.

“Why not call her? You miss her, honey. You know you do. She’s practically family. Even when mom and dad were alive Ellie was there for all the tree decorating and Charlie Brown watching nights. Oh hey, remember that year dad set the youth group up to go caroling around on Mr. Pritchard’s flat bed trailer with hay and blankets! You and Ellie started You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch!” They started laughing at the memory.

“Oh my gosh, I’d forgotten about that! It was right in front of the new vice-principal’s house! The irony was lost on the rest of the group, but everyone joined in! Then we sang Welcome Christmas right after it totally wrong but they tried! So everyone just thought we loved Suess instead of the fact that we were making some political statement against the system!” They laughed.

“Ellie loved caroling at the old folks home, too. They loved her blonde perky spunk and mad piano skills. She was always good with music, the elderly, and children come to think about it. I suppose being a music professor just fits.” He reached for his mug and grimaced. She gave him a puzzled gaze and lifted her own mug. It was lukewarm which explained his funny face. “Call her. It’s Christmas. Whatever your falling out was about, is it worth it really?”

“Look, you have no idea, so don’t go all ‘nephew Fred’ on me like I am ‘bah humbuggin’ out. It hurt. I feel like there’s cut she started and all the trust, and love, and other feelings are bleeding out still. I may get past it eventually, but I really trusted her.”

“Hey, I’m not saying ignore what happened, sweetie. But have you considered talking it out instead? If you sit down with her and if both of you really listen don’t you think you could find a solution? You two are best-friends. And now that her mom is gone and her dad is moving off to work out of the country, it would seem that you two have even more in common than ever. That’s all I’m saying. It’s Christmas. Wouldn’t forgiveness make one heck of a gift?”

She smirked wickedly. “Oh yeah, Wiseman, it’s perfect, but how do you wrap it?”

“How about in open arms? Kiddo, you don’t have to agree to love each other. That’s what a friendship is. That’s what love is. That’s what makes the world work. She’s your best-friend. Call her.”

“You are a pesky brother. Ok. Ok. I’ll call. Get out the DVD.”

Currently watching :
Peanuts Holiday Collection (It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown / A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving / A Charlie Brown Christmas) (Deluxe Edition)
Release date: 2008-09-23

New quotes on mood swings and artists…

April — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 20:04:28 +0000

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

New quotes about artists and mood swings …
Current mood: cooky/wacky
Category: Writing and Poetry

These are somehow comforting to me… or at least a confirmation that I’m not squirrel bait….

“That terrible mood of depression of whether it’s any good or not is what is known as The Artist’s Reward.” – Ernest Hemmingway

Gilbert Blythe: All pioneers are considered to be afflicted with moonstruck madness. (Anne of Green Gables: The Sequel (1987) (TV) )

A self description of Van Gogh: “sad, but always cheerful”….

And there you go. Apparently there’s no such thing as a “happy” creative artistic person (ok, save Marcia) and creativity is fulled by some bleak sense of gloom and doom. I guess if I wanna get sucessful I gotta get down with the funk! Apparently pain equals productivity for an artist…..

Currently reading:
Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (Harper Fiction)
By Gregory Maguire
Release date: 2007-09-25

In Memorium 09-06-07

April — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 02:11:19 +0000

Monday, September 01, 2008

In Memorium 09-06-07

Category: Life

I can’t remember the first time that I read anything by Madeleine L’Engle. But I would imagine that it was A Wrinkle in Time like most people. I do however remember vividly when I fell in love with Madeleine L’Engle’s writing. I read that same book aloud to my son when he was four. He and I poured over it page by page in intimate detail. And I was hooked.

That year I consumed as many L’Engle books as I could get my hands on as fast as possible. I re-read a number of them more than once because I didn’t want to miss a thing or forget. Not many people realize the scope of L’Engle’s writing. The Wrinkle trilogy (which is really a quartet but many omit

Many Waters,but they shouldn’t) is the tip of an astounding iceberg of incredible work by a woman who could write about children, teens, or adults and matters of art, science, government, music, literature, espionage, theology, philosophy, history, love, parenting, loss, emotions, life, and so much more.

There are books written with/ by Carole E. Chase that tell Madeleine’s story and share quotes from Madeleine’s many novels, epistles of poetry, nonfiction, fiction, serials, journals, theological works, plays, interviews, news articles, and more. She was an incredible woman and a phenomenal writer who deeply and profoundly affected me. I went to one of my favorite book shops today to find a new (to me) book because I miss her speaking into my life.

I never met her in person. I wish that I could say that I had. I did write to her and tell her thank you and her wonderful granddaughters shared the letter with her and wrote me in return. I have shared before that one of my all time favorite song writers Andrew Peterson wrote a line about the late Rich Mullins (both men, also heroes of mine) that said, “He never really knew me at all, but I loved him just the same.” I felt that way about Madeleine. She challenged me. She provoked me. She encouraged me. She mentored me. She inspired me. She still does through her works.

If I had five minutes to sit and speak to her; if I were given audience with her for just a few minutes, I know without a doubt that no matter how incredibly child like or simple or just plain nuts it might sound, I would say again what I already told her in my letter.

. Madeleine L’Engle will be celebrating a year in heaven this Saturday, Sept. 6. I hope she gets to hear Rich Mullins lead the hallelujah chorus or something like it on the hammered dulcimer …………And I hope she hears the eternal thank you from me and others like me.

“Perhaps what we are called to do may not seem like much, but the butterfly is a small creature to affect galaxies thousands of light years away.”

(On personal significance and scientific theory of the butterfly effect)
(Madeleine L’Engle, A Stone for a Pillow, 97)

——————————————————————————

Oh Madeleine, you let me ride on zodiacs at sea

You allowed me the chance to hear hoof beats

Of a unicorn

Madeleine, you gave me hope that there can be

The perfectly imperfect family;

The extraordinary in the common place- like a starfish.

You whisked me across wrinkled time

We found a Love that can’t be defined

You gave me a fresh view of faith, music, and art.

And I miss you.

Oh Madeleine, I always cry to read of your Joshua’s fall.

I read again of Louise, feathers, and the wall

And Meg’s my hero.

Oh Madeleine, I find myself on a bridge in the Crosswicks’ rain

The joys of love thrill me time and again

I think of Tallis, Vicky, poetry, and penguins.

I felt so very misunderstood till I met you

I could believe the miraculous and in simple truth.

You give me hope that my dreams and visions weren’t that odd

You gave me a bigger view of our micro – macro cosmic God.

And I miss you.

And there’s so much more

To one day thank you for. ~ April

…”And the only angels that I’ve ever seen
Look like tears on the face of the sky
Though it sure breaks your heart to see heaven all streaked up
With sorrows like theirs still you know all the while
From where cobbles shine golden like emeralds shine green
From where gems stud the streets and the walls
God looks out a window at us just to see
If anything frail as a sparrow should fall

Madeline fusses and Madeline laughs
The angel who watches says “Hey look at that”
There’s your faith (there’s your faith)
mountains will shake (mountains will shake)
God gladly bends just to hear Madeline when she prays

God gladly bends just to hear Madeline when she prays”

(Rich Mullins, Madeleine’s Song, As recorded by Beggarman on Fallen Deep (2001))

Currently listening :
The World as Best as I Remember It, Vol. 2
By Rich Mullins
Release date: 1993-02-01