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Showing posts from February, 2018

The Artsy Poetessa

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I believe I was born a poet. I've been writing poems since I was able to hold a pencil and form letters. I fell in love with poetry hearing and reading nursery rhymes. My mother had a set of children's books, a thirteen volume compendium of leather covered books in shades of blue and green. I continued to read the Nursery Rhyme volume long beyond the age when I was reading chapter books and more. That was the birth of this poet. As a child I loved art also but lost that creative niche many years later. Now, in my older age I have rediscovered the pleasures of filling a page with color and shape. Of using crayons, pencils, pens, paint and many other mediums to make art. I have combined my loves of art and poetry more and more and here is a sample, honoring my declaration of becoming the Artsy Poetessa.



THE  POETESS
She sits on a soft chair of pink and green chintz in the corner of the room. Her legs curl beneath her long blue flowered dress. Her long blonde hair flows over her ri…

Writing "Looking through Windows"

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Birthing a short story collection is a challenging yet exciting endeavor. I had written many short stories, a few of them published in literary journals, and I wanted to compile them into a book. A place readers could go to read all the short stories I was so proud of. And so I began the gestation of "Looking through Windows."

The first step was to gather the stories I wanted to include in the collection. Then, despite some of them having been published. I had to read and revise them all. I had to be sure each word and each scene was perfect. Well, perfect at least in my writer's mind. Then there was the task of putting the stories in the right order. Finally I had a manuscript I could submit. I got some help designing the cover and formatting the book. Then I sought fellow writers as well as former writing teachers to write blurbs for the back cover. Each step a stone in this marvelous process of birthing a book.



https://www.amazon.com/Looking-Through-Windows-Howard-Cass…

Driving Backwards

DRIVING BACKWARDS LESSONS LEARNED IN A ‘63 CHEVY
I was sixteen years old and held a long coveted driver’s permit in my wallet. My fingers trembled as they adjusted the rear view and side view mirrors on my father’s 1963 Chevy Impala, it’s turquoise blue paint job sparkling in the sunshine of an autumn Saturday afternoon. “Start the engine,” Daddy said. I twisted the key in the ignition and the car shuddered into life. I pulled away from the curb using the proper hand signals and set off for a practice drive. At the corner I slowed for a stop sign and heard the familiar admonition from Daddy, “It says STOP, not SLOW DOWN.” But he said it good naturedly and with the hint of a chuckle. It amazed me how patient and happy he was, despite the fact that he probably hated teaching his children to drive more than anything else. He was a truck driver, and he much preferred being behind the wheel and having control of the car. Any time we went anywhere with members of the family, he insisted on doin…

Life Book Project 2018

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One month of the year is gone already, but I feel a bit accomplished for a change. Usually by now I have successfully abandoned my goals and dreams before the first of February. One of my goals for 2018 was to sign up for the Life Book Project. This is a year long series of weekly art and self development lessons presented by Tamara LaPorte. You can find information at her website www.willowing.org

Tam is a wonderful teacher and a compassionate supporter of artists and guide in self-compassionate growth. Her lessons are detailed with explanations that make it easy for an immature artist like me to follow. She has also gathered a cadre of art teachers who also present lessons in Life Book 2018. Here is my first wobbly attempt at the first lesson.

It was a challenge but I have given myself the task of pushing my artistic boundaries this year. My drawings are childish and my painting is unpolished, but for me it's about learning about the fun of the process. I know there will be classe…