The Blank Page

“It is in facing the unknown that we find out what we know.” Morning pages, 6-3-08
Wild Hyacinth

We are all afraid of the unknown. This is a natural survival fear. It is also a life challenge. Everyday holds small unknowns but with these we have some level of control and choice. It’s when the bottom falls out and we are on wholly unknown ground that we must take a leap.

There is unknown wisdom in each of us, unknown knowledge and unknown talents. But since unknowns make us doubt and shrink back, the Universe sometimes gives us a push forward, a reason to take that leap.

When I was finishing the novel, even after writing the final scene, I realized there was one more story thread that needed a bow. I sat down with my pen and blank paper with no idea what would come next. I had one little thought--maybe they could have pizza together.

And so I sat with my blank page and my pen and that pizza and I wrote words on the paper, starting and stopping and starting again, until finally the lines began to flow, the characters moved and the scene happened. And when I was finished, I read what I had written and was amazed. The loose threads had tied themselves together without my knowing it. This is the fun of creative work. This is the unconscious helping, a wholly magical, hard working and benevolent part of our beings.

And this is how it happens, how you write a book, paint an image, live your life. You show up, you take what you know and you go. It isn’t easy and it isn’t smooth. But in the process you discover who you are and what you’re made of and what comes next.

Out Loud

“If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, will answer you: I am here to live out loud.”--Emile ZolaAzalea

We are all artists. We come into this world to create. To create our lives, to crack our doubts wide open, to live our stories. There are no mistakes. There is no time wasted. There are no failures. There is only our becoming and our dreams and our stories. So take a deep breath. Lift your voice high and live out loud.

A Nature Break

When I passed the young redbud yesterday, the one that lives a short walk from my driveway and introduced me to the snail, I noticed that all its blooms were gone. It was sprouting those beautiful little heart shaped leaves that become voluminous as the tree matures. So I paid it another visit. And then I wandered. Quaker Ladies
I found more Quaker ladies sprouting among the mosses and a few more woodland flowers I had not yet seen. And I paid a visit to the wisteria hanging among the oak tree boughs. Unfortunately, this is not the native variety. Also visiting were a kettle of bees. I attracted some unpleasant stares, but happily, they were more interested in chasing each other than me.

Quaker Ladies

"Pale as noonday cloudlets are,
Floating in the blue,
This little wildwood star
Blooms in light and dew...."
--Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz, Quaker Ladies, 1900 I found these dainty Quaker Ladies nodding with rain droplets on a sparsely wooded slope among mosses and leaves. Kin to the woodland Bluet, these exquisite little flowers dot meadows and wooded clearings from April to May with a happy sprinkling of blue sky.

Eastern Red Bud

The Eastern Red Bud parade is in progress. One of our native flowering trees, it sprinkles shades of purple and pink and magenta all over the country side, peeping out among still-bare deciduous trees, peppered along pastoral hillsides, brightening the roadsides everywhere. Native plants do that. They are happy, non intrusive and hardy. I visited several near my home between drizzling rains, just before the dark clouds moved in again. The blossoms sprout from everywhere, all over the tree’s branches, in what seems to be no particular order, although, you can be sure there is perfect order. Nature is the embodiment of order. Everything is connected to everything else, the tree, its roots, the sky, its rain, the visitor, its life cycle, and on and on it goes--a circle of connection--refreshing, renewing and alive.

One Decision at a Time

One decision at a time, a painting is formed.
One decision at a time, a life is lived.
The name of this painting is “Pink”. It began as a wash of pigment brushed on wet paper with nothing in particular in mind, except to see what a bit of rock salt sprinkled here and there would create. The next step was to define something, a shape, a form, a suggestion. The first time I tried this, I struggled. My mind was blank. I saw nothing. Nothing came to me, except frustration and the feeling, maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I hate this.
I revisit that place from time to time, where desire and doubt butt heads. Desire wins out with a little perseverance. And the next thing I know something magical has happened and I created it—me and the water and the pigment and the Universe--one decision at a time.

Let Loose

“When it is my time to create, and I fear that what I have to say will be worth nothing to anyone, I think of these artists who have moved me so deeply….they have, through the years, held me up, sustained me, moved me forward, nourished me, healed me. And this, not because they attempted to fire up the spirit of anyone else, but because they dared let loose their own."
--Jan Phillips, Marry Your Muse

The Moment

Stay present with the moment. Feel it, sense it, become it. Embrace it fully aware. In joy and in pain, this aliveness will never fail you. It will strengthen and heal.

Life's Journey

“Many of us venture out into nature looking for signs of life with our cameras. We’re moved by something and we shoot, unaware that there’s more to the image than meets the eye, that it contains, perhaps, an answer to a question, a clue for our life’s journey.” --Jan Phillips, God is at Eye LevelI think about this intimate look at a crabapple blossom, how exquisitely delicate it is and, yet, how very, very tough; how brief its small life, yet, how everlasting its influence on the tree and other life forms that visit the tree. Is this not the same for all of life?

We sometimes make art, write, photograph, in order to hold time still, to capture a single moment of what we feel in our hearts so that we can revisit it over and over again, so that we can always remember.
These images were taken on day 6, following an entire day of fierce winds, a tornado watch and pelting rain. And still the blossom is beautiful.

Your Best Friend

Of writing, Natalie Goldberg says, “…it is your friend. It will never desert you, though you may desert it many times. The writing process is a constant source of life and vitality…. it offers me a chance to touch my life which always softens me and allows me to feel connected with myself again.”

I sometimes suggest writing as a way of sorting things out, gaining insights and restoring calm. Recently, a young woman brought me a page she had written. She had written it in a moment of feeling overwhelmed. She handed the page to me with embarrassment, saying, “this isn’t my best work,” and yet, I think it may have been just that, her best work. It was spontaneous, pure, open. In less than a page of words, she had expressed her fears, corrected the false assumptions that fueled them and restored calm. And that is beautiful. That is your best friend speaking to you from within.

Drippy Crabapple Blossoms

I so enjoyed this yesterday. In only a few hours, everything had changed. Gone were the airy petals of the morning. The storm left the blossoms drippy with rain. A March wind remained, shifting the clouds, changing the light, making the limbs sway and blossoms shiver. I was glad I took the time to visit. I would have seen the tree, but missed these amazing blossoms.

Crabapple Blooms and Satisfaction

"No artist is ever pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine satisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive..."
--Martha Graham Shimmering sunlight on damp petals, the energy of a thunderstorm--I enjoyed both this morning. The crabapple in the front yard opened its blossoms this week so I payed it a visit. I wanted to know it better and also see what my camera could do. There is softness in the photos, but not the clarity or detail I want. And so I'll play with it again when the rain is finished. It's funny how that works. There is no plan, just a series of interactions. And when you're finished, you know more than you did before. But you also know there is more, that you have not quite reached what is possible. This sort of dissatisfaction is enjoyable. It's intimate, energetic and alive.

Earth Intimacy

Wildflowers are shy and illusive. They reach up from fallen leaves in demur silence. It would be easy to overlook them. But to stumble upon their subtle beauty, while the nights are still cold and the tree limbs bare, to stop and gaze upon silken petals and inhale the rich Earth smells that surround them, this is to feel Earth's breath upon your face.
A budding Cutleaf Toothwort, not yet ready to open its pedals.

Wildflowers

Delicate, pale, delicious
wildflower blooms and whispers
come gently, come closer
Lie down beside me
on my damp bed Earth
and behold her blush

Vickie Henderson, 2008

I would not know the name of this Slender Toothwort without the help of my camera and my good friends Jack and Dot Carman. It is a treat to know people who enjoy nature as I do. Jack's book, Wildflowers of Tennessee, is my favorite among wildflower references. Focused on flowers of Tennessee, it is organized by plant families and includes excellent photos to aid identification. Because Tennessee's diverse terrain and geology produce such an abundance of flora, the species described in this book cover the eastern United States, the Central and Southern Appalachians, as well as, the Ohio, Tennessee and mid-Mississippi river valleys.
--A first-choice resource for native plants.

Harbinger-of-Spring

A harbinger “makes known the approach of another [or] heralds”, according Random House. I’ve heard this expression for years, tagged onto countless species of spring blooms and songbirds, among them the crocus and the bluebird. But during my hike in Edgar Evans State Park (see March 2 post), I stumbled upon the true Harbinger-of-Spring (Erigenia bulbosa), a flower that actually wears this name, an early blooming member of the parsley family, also known as “salt and pepper”. Among decaying leaves, while the forest hardwoods are still barren of bud and leaf, these delicate clusters of white brighten the drab landscape and whisper their promise of warmer days to come.

Spring's Waking Moments

The forest floor is coming to life on Tennesee’s Cumberland Plateau in Edgar Evans State Park and Wildlife Management area. At first glance the terrain speaks in browns and grays. But these neutrals set a perfect stage for the brilliant green mosses and ferns displayed beneath bare trees.

And among the leaves, a tiny flower garden blooms, as delicate and elusive as the Eastern bluebird songs drifting overhead.

Spring doesn't officially arrive on our calendar for three more weeks, but the natural world is brimming with spring's renewal.

Imagination

“So you see, imagination needs moodling—long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering.” --Brenda Ueland