Something Different
a poe-umm
Do you see the face? He asked. What face? The one in that cloud up there… No, I don’t. There’s the eye, the nose… See, there’s a chin, I can’t believe you don’t see it. Sorry, no, I don’t see it… Then to appease him, I say, “Oh, now I see it!” I do see the clouds. Billowy layers of Cumulus against the bluest blue sky. I see that beautiful shadowy bottom side against the white— the color is a dark periwinkle blue. The sky below is a pale turquoise. The distant hilltop is in a violet-blue shadow. Horizontal bands of color, imperfect edges, Some fraying in the layers and textures. I see things differently. Everyone else looks for familiar patterns. I like seeing patterns, too, but I look for something different.
My Fred is always pointing out faces in clouds, in knots of wood, in rocks, or in the glowing coals of a leftover fire. I rarely see these features unless they are very obvious. My best example of this…
I made this drawing in 2012—it starts with random marks and I follow them with no intention to make anything that looks like something. My Fred insists it looks like a view through the glass bottom of his favorite beer mug, and that he sees a disapproving Jesus looking at him… Since 2012, I’ve been unable to see what the fuck he’s talking about (at times I’ve been annoyed by this nonsense). Then one day (within the last week or two), while I was washing dishes in the kitchen, I briefly glanced at the drawing where it hangs in the dining room, and I finally saw the disapproving Jesus looking through the glass bottom of a beer mug. But… looking at it now, I can’t see it, unless I’m not looking straight at it, but I’m not seeing it like I did that one time...so thankfully, it’s not so obvious that I can’t “unsee” it. It’s funny that I actually did finally see it.
It doesn’t mean that I’m not observant, I follow the flow of lines, the shifting colors, shadow, and light—I don’t try to find things familiar. I’m on a visual journey, I’m exploring, letting my mind wander...checking doors and corners…you never know what you will find…
I see things differently, I always have—it’s how I am.
We’re having our first snow this morning.
A few pictures of the early morning dusting we received…
It’s a spiky type of snow, with a fine texture like a Nor’easter, but drier. It’s a low-pressure system coming in from the Midwest, part of the mess over the Great Lakes—it’s November, snow happens. Later today or tonight, the storm winds will shift and blow across the lakes, dumping fluffy lake-effect snow on us tonight and into tomorrow. The worst of it will be closer to the lake and in the north country—the Tug Hill Plateau.
The Edmund Fitzgerald was lost in a storm on Lake Superior 50 years ago today.
I always remember this event. I was 13 years old at the time of the wreck; it was the big news, especially when you live up by one of the Great Lakes—Lake Ontario, which is “my” lake (on the inspiration level of Georgia O’Keeffe’s mountain, the Pedernal) and it’s one of my favorite places in the world.
Anyway… November.
I love the Gordon Lightfoot song, but I have recently discovered the Punch Brothers and I adore their cover of the song…
I really need to clean my keyboard, my letter E is stubborn about giving me the letter…why is it always the letter E? The E, D, S, C, N, and M are almost worn off, N is nearly all gone, it’s a tiny fragment of a vertical line left…there are a lot of miles on this keyboard. Maybe I can make a sticker…
I have finished my work on Chapter 7 of Drinking from the Fishbowl. As of yesterday, it ended up being another three pages worth of writing, but the transition that I was looking for is so much better than what I had lost. There’s more depth to it that I like quite a bit. Honestly, it felt so good to write something fresh. This book and I have grown together over the last 20+ years; it’s been a long journey, and it’s almost over. The difference between me at 38 years old when I wrote the first very rough draft, and me now at 63 is huge. I have learned a lot. The life experiences I have gained have made this book so much better, because now I know exactly what I want to say and what I want to bring to light. It is a book about dreams and realities.
Writing a book requires a lot of patience, copious amounts of practice, and a defined persistence to see it through to the end. It may sound willy-nilly when I say, “I’m going with the flow,” but it is a flow with purpose and a commitment to wrangle my inspiration into something meaningful. I love the process so much—you have no idea—this is what I’ve always wanted to do. To be a practicing writer is all about following my bliss to find joy. It doesn’t matter if I make money at it or not—it’s all good, I’m making it up as I go along.
It’s still lightly snowing with some persistence; even the sheltered grassy areas are taking on a thin trace of snow. Whatever we get, it will be melted by the weekend.
I hope everyone is well. Be extra good to yourselves, follow your bliss, and find joy. Remember to be kind to others, okay? You never know what someone is going through—and we’re all going through a lot these days.
Thank you for visiting From My Acre of the World. I’m happy to share my creative life journey as I connect the dots between life, art, images, the written word, and my creative process. I want to say “Hello” to all my subscribers, followers, and new visitors. I want to thank my subscribers, both paid and free; I truly appreciate your ongoing support, and it means a great deal to me to have you here. My content is always free because I want to reach people and make my work accessible (you can pay if you want to, but there’s no pressure). I always enjoy hearing from you; your comments are pretty special.
The wee Elizabeth looks quite sporty in her coat, so adorable.
Hi Laura - winter approacheth the Great Lakes... Elizabeth looks prepared and your writing shed ready to face the worst...