Artist Date: Crochet Project

My week exploded with appointments left and right.  I meant to put this post up on the blog yesterday, but life got away from me.  At any rate, I wanted to share with all of you the artist date I have been doing continuously over the last couple of months.  I started crocheting after about a five year break.  I am excited to be working with yarn again while I watch television.  I learned how to crochet my senior year in high school.  The first blanket I made is in my closet.  I made if for my first dorm room for my freshman year in college, a million years ago.  I have no clue how many things I have made since that time.

Anyway, here are a couple of the blocks in various stages of completion.  I hope to have the blanket done sometime this winter.  I will post pictures when it is finished.

Tourist vs. Pilgrim

I love to travel.  The other day, I was a little restless.  I wanted to go out of town. The funny part is that I had just come home the week prior after a week in the big city of Las Vegas for a conference.  I jumped in my pickup and drove down the highway and up the pass.  I wanted to look down on the valley near the top of the mountain.  I only stayed for a couple of minutes, but I came down off the mountain settled.

As a traveler, I do enjoy being a tourist.  I love seeing new things: cathedrals, churches, museums, battlefields, cultural items, you name it, I love to see it.  However, I am not necessarily one to run, run, run, to see everything all in one trip.  I like to saver the things I visit.  Thus, I think I would like to start approaching my travels more as a combination of tourist and pilgrim. But what is the difference?

I want to take my time in a place.  When I went to the York Minster, I was very disappointed that I had to make a choice between a tour of the magnificent church or the Stations of the Cross.  Instead, I would have chosen to do the stations and then go to the next tour.  Unfortunately, we were on a tight schedule.  I was able to pray, but I missed the bigger prayer of Jesus’ journey to the Cross.

During my time in Vegas, I wanted to make the trip more of a pilgrimage then just a business trip.  There is a church close to where I was staying.  I wanted to attend Mass.  Unfortunately, my hip was in a great amount of pain.  I wasn’t comfortable walking to the church by myself.  Maybe the next time I go.

Matthew Kelly talks about the difference between being a tourist and a pilgrim.  I thought it interesting that a tourist expects to have a perfect trip.  They want everything to go exactly as planned in customer service and getting everything crossed off their list.  I don’t like that type of attitude.  I like to find the grace in even the things that don’t go as planned.  To stop and pray.  To be where God wants me, not where I want to be.

The trip I took to Maui is a prime example.  Sure, I wanted to do a lot more beach time and wandering, but my daughter just didn't have that in her for this trip.  Instead of ranting and raving, I relaxed.  I did more writing.  I spent time outside on my deck enjoying the warm air.  I walked along the beach by myself.  I took fun photos.  I communed with God in the glory of such a beautiful place.  Yes, I like being a pilgrim.

New Book

ORCS KILLED HER HUSBAND AND DAUGHTER

Lost in despair, Kirzantra holds on to the idea of revenge to kill not only her father but also her pain.

With her unbound power and orc rage pulsing through her veins, she plans to leave the Valley of Chaos to fulfill her plans and keep her people safe from herself.

In Kirzantra's desperate quest into the darkest depths of evil will she lose herself to the orc rage or find herself in the Deathsong Prophecy?

The mystical power of the amber flame continues to haunt Kirzantra in the second book in the Deathsong Chronicles.

Hijacking Part 2

Explosion!

“Well, it looks like you white women living in small, predominately white communities are firmly entrenched in your beliefs that people of color should refrain from protesting - or save it for a time when and place that you don’t find inconvenient or threatening.  No hearts and minds can be changed here, so I’ll leave this sad conversation with a quote, ‘Opinion is really the lowest form of human knowledge. It requires no accountability, no understanding. The highest form of knowledge... is empathy, for it requires us to suspend our egos and live in another’s world.  It requires profound purpose larger than the self kind of understanding.’”

Yep, this was actually written.  This person accuses, the women, not the men who agreed with all of us, just the women, of being bigoted and racist.  Then, he says “you white women”.  Sexist?  I think so.  None of us said that we thought “people of color” should refrain from protesting.  We just don’t agree with it being at a football game.  And again, what about the white men who also commented on the post.  This person ignored them.  He must really hate women.

As for the kneeling being inconvenient or threatening?  No.  I simply disagreed with the venue.  Did I watch football that year?  Nope.  I didn’t want to be a part of the political debate of hate.  I also just lost my dad.  Between not being able to talk to him about the games and all the negative controversy, I found other things to do with my time.  In reality for me, it was a perfect time for all this to take place.  It was very convenient.  I was in mourning.

Now for the quote.  The words were written by Bill Bullard (which the person didn't sited on facebook), a former Dean of Faculty at a high school.  He was to give a graduation talk, but he ended up sick.  I read the speech.  Not bad.  And I don’t disagree.  Opinion is based on our perceptions of the world, many of which are an accumulation of our experiences.  My opinion is very military driven with a love of my county and my state and my faith.  And yes, I do come from a small town.  I know my opinion can be flawed, but so can other people’s opinion.  In fact, the person who hijacked the post was spewing his opinion as much as the rest of us.  He has no understanding of our patriotism.  He has no understanding of the military in regards to what my husband and I have been through.  The problem with this person is he doesn’t see his words as opinion and only points at others.

In Bill’s talk, he references George Eliot in saying the highest form of knowledge is empathy.  The “hijacker” claimed us white women from small town USA aren’t empathetic.  Hum, that is curious.  Yes, my heart breaks for those who have seen their loved ones brutalized.  However, when I see a salute in a picture, my mind automatically goes to my experiences in the military.  My heart breaks for spouses who have to bury their loved ones who have died in the line of duty, police officer and soldier alike.  My heart sympathizes with the soldiers who returned from war only to be slapped in the face by people kneeling during the National Anthem.  Yes, I do have empathy.  My empathy is just different from the hijacker.

The irony of all of this is that the hijacker grew up in small town America and is a white man filled with a lot of hateful rhetoric who now lives in the big city.  And yes, I am a white woman from a small town.  I am biased.  I do have opinions.  Really, he isn't much different.

Hijacking Part 1

Every so often, I find I am unable to help myself with people's rhetoric on social media.  I step in even when I know the conversation is going to explode.  Yesterday, there was an explosion.  My baby sister posted a funny meme that holds truth to some people, to others, not so much, but still just funny.  The picture was of some football players kneeling in protest while a uniformed man stood in the background saluting.  The caption, "and this my friends is how you separate the men from the spoiled little boys."

A person commented, "This post demonstrates your lack of understanding about why athletes take a knee."  This was just too much for me.  Don't be messing with my sister, for one.  Two, really?  "your lack of understanding"?  Playing word games with that type of negativity drives me nuts.  Three, don't be messing with the National Anthem.  Four, don't be messing with my soldiers.  I couldn't help myself.  Five, did I mention this was my baby sister?  She understands plenty.  In fact, she held her own against him.  Her point was of being proud to be an American.

What did I respond, before she held her own?  Here it is.

"This post demonstrates your love of country and for your sister (that would be me), brother-in-law (that would be my husband), cousin-in-law, grandfather, and all of the family and friends I could continue to list off who have sacrificed with their service in the military.  Thank you, Sister!!!  I love my country.  I love football.  I don't believe taking a knee at a football game is the proper venue.  However, I gave 20 years of my life for their "right" to demonstrate.  As a wife, I have given 30+ years.  We have a right for our demonstration as well!!!"

The person asked me a question, "Would you prefer that people protesting the excessive use of police brutality against minorities (especially against African American) in a quieter, more polite fashion?"

My response?  "I would prefer for people to quit high jacking posts, causing more hate and discontent."  I mean really...Facebook is full of offensive things.  Keep scrolling.  Belittling people isn't going to make a post better.  And negativity sure isn't going to change anyone's minds.

Another person talked about the players who knelt were using a venue that was safe where no riots would take place like they do at marches.  Wow, now there is a valid point that was done with respect, not by talking down to anyone.  Tasteful.

Now, I agree police brutality is a bad thing.  I just don't agree that kneeling at an event, that should bring us together, is the right place for the demonstration.  That doesn't make me racist nor a bigot.  I am also not those two things because I disagree with someone.  My belief is that during the National Anthem, we stand together as one.  We don't have to agree, but a little respect would go a long way.

Granted, calling the football players spoiled little boys is negative, but it is funny for many people.  The irony kills me.  These huge men who take a beating during the game are far from little.  They train hard.  Spoiled?  Well, they do make a crap ton of money.  Hum, they don't get shot at or attacked by criminals.  Their spouses know they will come home after the game.  When my husband was deployed, yep, I thought them spoiled and their spouses.  We made less money with my husband on active duty, and I worried nonstop about whether he would come home after being gone for  17 months, not just a road trip to a different stadium.

But I digress.  I will talk about the explosion on Friday.  This is only the tip of the iceberg.

Be Gentle - Part 2

The other area I need to be more gentle with myself is within my career goals.  I will never be the caliber of the writers I attended the conference with last week.  I have to remember my limits and be okay with that.  I hate limits!!!  But I am not in my twenties and thirties.  I am not healthy.  I have a crap load of other responsibilities to perform with limited amount of energy resources.  I miss the days of being hard charging, taking control of a situation, and conquering all the tasks set in front of me.  Yes, I conquer what I do in small, slow spurts, but not like I used to when I wasn't in pain.

Some of the experts say that you have to write a book every month or at least every other month.  You have to do all this marketing that would take a good twenty hours a week or more.  You also have to manage your sales, format your book, do your book covers, and the list goes on and on.  You can look at licensing your book rights to make t-shirts, water bottles, and that list goes on forever.  How do I be gentle in this type of world that I want to be successful in?

I redefine what success is to me.  (I have to do this at least once a year and twice if I spend time with other writers.)  What do I want out of my writing career?  Sure, I want the success of a JK Rowling or George R.R. Martin.  However, neither of them seem to be writing much anymore.  I don’t think I want that.  I want to write until the day I leave this earth if physically possible.  So, maybe I don’t want that success.

I think I want a quiet success.  I would love to supplement my income enough to give me money to travel.  I believe twenty to thirty thousand would be a nice number per year to give me a big trip somewhere and a few smaller trips.  I enjoy my house and pickup.  I don’t need bigger and better.  I am content with my life.  But what if I can’t get even that?

My ultimate goal is to leave a body of work for my descendents.  I want my grandchildren and great grandchildren to be able to read my words, to see a glimpse into who I am.  At some point, I would like to write my memoires so they can see even more of who I am.  Yes, this is my goal.  Soon, I will have one series finished for them.  I am working on my second series.  I have one stand alone historical fiction.  My body of work is growing.  I am leaving a legacy.  I am excited by that.  And hey, I even have some amazing fans.  Someday, I may have more fans.  I would love that too.  Until then, I am doing fantastic.  I mean really, how many people do you know who have written more then one book?  Yes, I am a success.

Be Gentle

Be Gentle With Yourself, Saint Francis de Sales

Wow, do I ever struggle with this concept, and this past week, I haven’t been gentle with myself.  I was in Las Vegas for a Master Business Class for writers.  I attended five days of class, including long lunches with other professional writers and experts in the field.  I constantly had to remind myself that I am not only a writer, but I am also a mom/chauffeur.  To top it off, I have a disease that forces me to rest.  I forgot that last part at the beginning of the week.

The second night, I went to the hospitality room to learn more and network.  Networking drained the introvert in me that was already struggling after two full days of classes and lunches.  Uff da.  The third night, I went to dinner with three other writers.  I didn’t want to say no to the anyone.  I was tired of eating alone at night.  So my plan to hide/rest in my room went out the window.  Opps.

By the fourth day, I could feel the introvert and the flare-up ready to explode.  I made it through the morning, lunch, and afternoon, but I was done.  I think another lady wanted to join me to watch the Pittsburgh game, but I couldn’t do it.  Instead, I went straight to my room, ordered room service, put on my pajama’s, and was in heaven.

Now, I am home for my second full day.  I am still exhausted.  I need to be gentle, but I want to get back to work.  But, that is a post for another day, Monday in fact.