I am a writer as well as an artist. And though every publisher will tell you that more than one focus scatters your interest, it can't be helped. There is truth in this. Dividing your time is a challenge. But now that I have discovered who I am, I refuse to go forward leaving either behind.
And so there is this dance, this back and forth journey, both creative endeavors, both requiring deep commitment, both rewarding in and of themselves.
The hawks. Yes, I visited them yesterday. Neither of the adults were around and as I ventured into the nest yard, I felt its emptiness, as though no one were home. But knowing this was probably my last opportunity to see the juvenile, I stayed the duration of four hours and visited the gardens and sketched while waiting. In time, a juvenile began calling in the nest area. I saw him in flight several times, though when he perched, I could never locate him through the leaves. He returned to the nest area, flying within it from perch to perch, then exceeded its boundaries to cross the road and travel to neighboring areas, noted both visually and by the distance and direction of his solicitous calls. Though he is seen from time to time by the residents, it has become less and less likely that I will see the hawk family. And so, I will now devote my hawk watching time to using the inspiration they've given me to finish my sketchbook and select some favorite images to paint, all of which I will share with you as they are completed.
In the meantime, I want to introduce you to several other Red-shouldered hawk lovers and observers that I have met along the way. This has been another amazing part of the journey, the connection that blogging has given me to others who have enjoyed similar experiences and captured these in their own unique ways.
Leonard is a professor and journalist in Marietta, GA. You must visit his video and though the outcome of his story is uncertain at this time, mobbing is a turnabout reality for hawks, one in which nature provides for the predated as well as, the predator.
Mary Howell Cromer lives in LeGrange, KY. She launched her blog, Red-shouldered Hawks of Tingsgrove this week to display her journal and photos of the Red-shouldered hawks that she has spent hours observing the past several years. She has experienced both happy and sad endings, as well, and given aid to the parents a time or two. Don't miss her fun images of the juveniles.
And Jay at Down to Earth, created a wonderful diary post about her experiences with Red-shouldered hawks living in and around her property in eastern North Carolina. Visit her beautiful images, including a juvenile visiting the bird bath.
And last, but certainly not least, you must visit Larry Jordan's Red-shouldered hawks at Birder's Report for a northern California look at this beautiful species.
To see my entire series of posts on this family of Red-shouldered hawks, click this link. The above images were taken at various times during my observations. The sketch is of the female with prey brought to her by the male. The second image is the male taking the remains of the female's meal to another perch to eat. The dragonfly is a ballerina ! a very small male Blue dasher. The perched hawk image is the male; the hawk in flight, one of the adults.
The inspiration found in blogging works in much the same way. It comes as a natural outcrop of creating. The more we create, the more we are stimulated to create and the more easily new ideas flow.
Changes in awareness and confidence are a natural result of that creating. So the next time I write a blog post, send out queries for a book, tell a story to my neighbor or embark on a new endeavor, newly honed skills emerge from my creative library and add sparkle to what I do, often without me even noticing.
And that brings me to the second aspect of blogging inspiration, my fellow bloggers. Creating stimulates more creating. And seeing what others have created pumps you with new ideas, encourages by example, and gets your creative juices flowing even more.
So, by way of celebration, I want to name and thank three fellow bloggers who have particularly inspired me during this past year.
A parting note about shyness: Passion, determination, practice--whether experienced individually or in combination--all trump shyness.
And as our calendars flip over to February, it’s clear that the date itself,
The stage of course is the blogging platform, a place to "perform", to publish your
Every stage we create has something to give us. We step forward, find our
I was recently talking with a friend who is a published author and artist, and said, “I haven’t done one thing toward publishing my novel. It just sits there along with the writer’s market books that are stacked on my buffet and I do nothing.”
And that is one of the many ways this stage has become important to me—practice. We create, we let the world see what we have to
Next post: The inspiration in blogging
One of my favorite motivational quotes comes from
Okay, that's enough for now. I noticed there is a lot of playing on my list. Welcome 2009!
Visit the recent posts of 

But I have wondered what aspect of this experience made it so difficult to re-engage when I returned home, so much so, that it took a full two weeks before I could feel my feet firmly replanted in everyday life again. I have concluded it was the silence. The silence of the mountain, the silence we observed just after meeting each other--thirteen of us inclusive of teachers, the silence of meditation, of walking, of writing and of listening.
There was nothing superficial, shallow or pretentious to occupy our minds. Everything around us was real and pure, the air we breathed through our nose, the earth squarely solid beneath our feet, the whisper of the wind in the pines. There was nothing in the way of our opening up.
Without everyday distractions and demands to hold you to the surface, as your pen moves across the paper, what bubbles up is what matters. And what matters comes from a deeper place. And when you go deep you heal and become open to who you are.
As we read what we had written aloud to each other, this bubbling up was honored with silence, reverent, affirming silence. No reassurances bombarded you. There were no attempts to repair your composure or make your voice go away. No criticism or ‘fix it’ responses, no rushing in to make you feel better. There was only listening and silence.
And how does this feel? Uncertain at first. It’s unfamiliar. But what follows is a very settling and strengthened certainty that you have honored who you are. You have listened deeply and heard what you had to say and in the midst of that profound silence, you know that is all that really matters.

I’ve been writing morning pages for ten years. You don’t have to be a writer. It’s a tool for everyone.
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.

