I can remember the moment and see it in my mind — we were gathered in front of the entrance to Robert Frost Hall (on the SNHU campus). Surrounded by other first-year MFA’ers and some of that year’s graduating students, I had the sense that I had found ‘my people’. I am not a joiner by nature; the recent rediscovery of an essay I wrote in high school on why people join groups confirms it. So this was a new feeling, this belonging. From the outside, we couldn’t have looked more varied and different. But what bound us was “something that all begins with the 26 letters of the alphabet”, to quote Nancy Werlin. Writing. What brought me there? I simply wanted to grow my skills, to challenge myself. But still, I qualified as a member.

Monthly gatherings around a dining room table with my writing group were at one time my only connection to other writers (and readers). But in the spirit of someone’s now-famous quote about baby steps, I have slowly added to that. I’ve become a contributing Friend of my local library and had the pleasure of meeting bestselling author Chris Bohjalian. As this year’s graduate assistant in the writing program, I have had the privilege of chatting personally with our visiting writers, Francine Prose and Ann Hood. And on the invitation of a classmate, yesterday I attended the WNBA-Boston chapter’s annual tea (that is, Women’s National Book Association) where award-winning writers Nancy Werlin (Young Adult author), Ona Buchanan (poet and concert pianist), and Katie Smith Milway (Young Adult/Children’s author) spoke. Not only were the surroundings of the Fairmont Copley Plaza Hotel elegant and the pastries exquisite, the room was filled with book-loving, word-hungry peeps!

Early in the afternoon, I had an opportunity for a one-on-one conversation with Nancy Werlin — can you tell that personal chats are my favorite? Hearing some of the backstory details of her novel, impossible, up-close-and-personal, I was inspired to purchase a copy of my own from Village Books, the event’s independent bookseller of choice. … And on a personal note, Village Books took home some copies of Eating Clean to put on their shelves and has asked if I would do an event at their store in 2010. Which is what inspired me to write this post in the first place … finding my community, getting out of my comfort zone of familiar routine and dress-down jeans and showing my support of others, helps keep my artist self buoyed and eligible for opportunities, too. It’s never comfortable at first, but I seem to return home inspired, invigorated, and freshly enthused to get down to work. Here’s wishing you a creative week! I’d love to hear how you’ve built your own community for inspiration and sense of belonging.

Your warm and encouraging comments about my photography have sparked a new idea: JOY CARDS — pocket-sized editions of my home & garden, craft, pet, food, and dance photography. Each image is enhanced with a custom motivational phrase on the back side. Now available in my new etsy shop. Come take a look!

I’m working on an online slide show of the 30 images in this inaugural Joy Card set. Stay tuned for the link.

December marks my 3rd blogaversary. Thank you for stepping into My Artful Life!

It was a long time coming, but I finally learned how to make Stephanie Sersich’s Spiny Knotted Bracelet. I’ve been admiring photos of her work and aching to learn how to make one of these ‘wearable parties’ forever. Her book, Designing Jewelry with Glass Beads, provides easy to follow instructions, complete with how-to illustrations. My time had finally come!

All of the beads came from the stash that has been growing over the past twenty years. Other than the book, my only purchases were the beading board (manufactured by her father), and the linen and perle cotton necessary for the macrame. … I totally love my new bracelet.

… I’d curl up in a big fat overstuffed armchair, with a pot of tea and a stack of books that have been waiting for me, and I’d read the afternoon away.

Books just finished:

The Impostor’s Daughter – A True Memoir by Laurie Sandell. This is the first ‘graphic novel’ I’ve ever read and I loooooooved it! Great story (yes, it’s really a memoir), wonderful drawings. A delicious read. I enjoyed it so much that I’ve subscribed to Laurie’s blog — she seems to lead quite the fun and happening author’s life down in the Big Apple.

Gringa by Melissa Hart. Another memoir – this one more traditional in format than Impostor’s Daughter. Engaging young female voice and story of a family divided (I’m not going to give anything away here). Thoroughly enjoyed this one. Because I am writing my own memoir, with the story confined to six of my teen-aged years, I am scarfing up any and all memoirs told with a young voice. I particularly like an uplifting finish and am pleased to say that Gringa did not disappoint me.

Mid-read:

Francine Prose’s Reading Like a Writer. Required for school, however I enthusiastically recommend it to both writers and avid readers. With thoughtful care, Francine evaluates selected words, sentences, paragraphs, etc., of the literature she considers to be the best. After revisiting through her lens, some pieces that I read long ago, I am afraid that I have sped through way too many novels and short stories without allowing myself adequate time to ponder and fully appreciate well-written work on a cellular level. I love  her list of “Books to Be Read Immediately”, found at the back of the book. It is as though she wants to share the joy and bring the reader along with her. … Francine was our visiting author this past summer at SNHU. She is terrifically smart and funny and I felt honored to spend time with her.  Now that her book about Anne Frank is out, I am adding it to my memoir reading list. Her capacity for analysis and articulation of her insights amazes me.

I seem to be hanging out in the memoir section of the library and book store these days; I wonder if you have any you’d like to recommend?

It was an action- and inspiration-packed week. And there was even another author event at Portsmouth’s Music Hall with Tracy Kidder, but I didn’t have the presence of mind to snap a photo.

Ann Hood is the visiting author this year at Southern New Hampshire University. I totally loved her novel, The Knitting Circle and am looking forward to her 2010 release, The Red Thread. On top of that, she is a totally fun person with great gusto for laughter. She is also a terrifically prolific writer — fiction, nonfiction and a zillion magazine publications. So this weekend, as I was reading about a blogger-become-book author in “More” mag, I was pleasantly surprised to see her now-familiar name at the byline. But then again, she’s the kind of woman with her keystrokes on a pulse-point. Welcome to SNHU, Ann!

It took two years of planning and committee meetings, but when Sunday, Oct. 25th arrived, the Friends of the Nashua Public Library were ready to host an afternoon with Chris Bohjalian. For those who wanted to chat with the author up-close-and-personal, we offered tickets to a private reception. It was a smashing success, as Chris graciously circulated among clusters of book club members and avid fans, many of whom were clutching copies of his most recent success, Skeletons at the Feast. Personally, I had a difficult time accompanying the characters as they survived the harsh conditions and cruel human acts of the winter of 1945. But Chris is a consummate story teller, both orally and on paper, and he did not disappoint us last Sunday. I was so transfixed during his 45-minute presentation that I barely bothered to adjust myself on the folding chair. Fantastic!

Every third-semester student in the SNHU MFA program is required to write a critical essay. The subject of the essay is to be on one aspect of the writing craft of an author (living or not) who writes in the same genre as the student is working in for their graduate manuscript project. The memoir author I have chosen for my essay is Augusten Burroughs. I am intrigued with his use of humor that has the reader laughing while at the same time choking or crying at the horror of the narrator’s circumstance. My email request for an interview went unanswered. But fortunately, his publicist has put together a tour for his latest book, You Better Not Cry. How lucky for me his tour included Boston! Tickets for his reading and Q&A were only $5, so if I couldn’t get an interview, at least I’d get to see him in action in the flesh. I was not disappointed — the reading was terrific and right in line with my thesis statement. As Augusten was leaving the stage, I mustered up the courage to approach him as he passed my seat. It was a brief but enlightening exchange. “No, I do not give interviews any longer,” he told me.  That’s alright. I think I just had one.

And then this weekend it was time to get back to the keyboard and my own story. In the words of both Ann Hood and Augusten, the yellow post-it note now stuck to my desk reminds me: emotional truth. That’s what will resonate with the reader. Thanks, guys.

Last night I needed something to read, a segue between 10 hours of memoir-focused writing (with more than a few email, facebook and snack breaks, I confess) and some shut-eye. I went to my bookshelf and selected Live What You Love by Bob and Melinda Blanchard. If you haven’t read their first book, A Trip to the Beach, it’s a must.

LWYL is the kind of book you can open up at any page and find the narrative refreshing as well as inspirational. A few pages before bed were just what I needed to change mental channels and calm down for sleep. I particularly like the book’s subtitle: “notes from an unusual life”. Speaks to my memoir material, too. This has been an unusual life!

So this morning I decided to check out their web site. Gosh, I’m hooked! They talk a lot about the Big 4: Passion, People, Environment and Money. (Reminds me of the four ice cream scoops of major pursuits I am supposed to keep in my virtual ice cream dish.) Worthy of more pondering. 

 … The memoir project has certainly detracted from my available time for blogging … and I MISS IT!

Until next time,
the joy-capturing shutterbug,

With the dinner plate dahlias still rejoicing in the garden, there is the illusion that the calendar pages haven’t yet turned towards the next season. 

Today I’m going on a giant Artist Date: visiting a number of artists’ studios on the Nashua Art Walk. And then there’s a dance lesson.  A delicious day of inspiration and creative refueling.

I hope you have an inspired Sunday, too.

Can you find the out-of-towner here?

Between the memoir-writing and new product development (more to come on that soon), not to mention generating an income, my travel bug lust has been left in the drawer. Antsy and neglected, she’s rearing her noisy head and begging for some out-of-town adventure. Preferably to destinations exotic and requiring language skills other than English. But alas, for now, photos must do the trick. … Care to join me for a trip down Memory Lane?

That’s me, in the yellow hat. Standing next to the coral on a dairy farm owned by the gentleman in the white shirt. This was in the Minas Gerais region of Brazil. The story of how I happened to arrive there is fodder for another memoir, which will have to stay on hold, for now. (Although I’m happy to answer any questions you may think of — so feel free to comment!) I spent a month with this family, and during that time acquired enough Portuguese to carry on a brief conversation at the vegetable stand or with a neighbor. Much of the language I learned while hanging out with the women in the family, as we did housekeeping chores: mopping floors, dusting, and the weekly laundry (without a machine!). And cooking. Lots of cooking. I think this would be called learning by immersion. Sometimes scary, but definitely effective!

View from the Farm

… from the comfort of my bed. After so many hours and days spent on the computer, I really felt the need to do something with my hands.

And the view from where I sit.

(In another lifetime, I made the stained glass lampshade.)

Meet the culprit. The reason my blog posts and new photography have been on simmer.

You are looking at the 177 pages of my memoir project I am willing to live with thus far and had to send to my mentor  in advance of the new semester’s first writing packet deadline. My memoir focuses on my teen years, when I was growing up on an island in the 196os. I have organized it by the freshman, sophomore, junior and senior years of high school. That’s how I keep my memories in order, so it was the most natural solution. But believe me — I was not popular nor did I attend the same school all four years or graduate in a cap and gown. So there’s a bit of irony.

Yesterday, 30 more pages went out the door to join the others.

This is the last semester dedicated to new writing. In February the edit and rewrite process begins in earnest.