In Love with Laundry

I'm not a fan of maintenance: all those daily chores that grease the skids of life so we can eat and be clothed. I keep a fairly tidy environment because a lot of clutter makes me feel overwhelmed. But I don't enjoy it. I'm always rushing through those tasks so I can get to the real stuff - writing, or something equally joyful and meaningful.

This morning something shifted. I had to finish folding the laundry, which normally I would resent because it cut into my early morning writing session. But instead I found myself in love.

As I picked up each piece of clothing, I was struck by how this life - right here, right now - is filled with incredible purpose and beauty. Each garment represented a blessing:

• My teenage daughter's long black camisole: I treasured her amazing essence, and the fact that we get to have her around until she grows up and flies away, and that we can clothe, feed and support her. 
• My favorite black SmartWool Zip-T: I thanked the New Zealand sheep and the people who made it so that I can be both warm AND feel like a mysterious, gorgeous Secret Agent when I wear it.
• My husband's jeans: I felt the tough denim and appreciated the grueling work that he does everyday to keep us fed and sheltered. 

As I moved through the pile, tears rose up. Yes, friends, I cried folding laundry. Actual, full, real tears that required me to pause and blow my nose.

A song played in my head, Steely Dan's Only a Fool Would Say That:
"I heard it was you, Talking 'bout a world where all is free,
it just couldn't be, and only a fool would say that." 

If we extend the idea of "free" to be a world in which we choose to recognize that whatever we have is a gift, and to learn from the many difficulties that come our way, then I am happy to be exactly that kind of fool.

The kind of fool who can - on good days - celebrate the process of making this life. Even the laundry.

Pecking away

I like to watch for birds on my morning walks. The particular bird that I notice on any given day often has a direct message for me.

For the last week, red-tailed hawks whirled over my head. These sharp-eyed raptors fly high above the fray, and use keen powers of discernment to locate their prey. Hawks are hunters, but they only dive down when the right thing comes along.

I had been spending a lot of time ‘diving down’ to grab things that weren't necessarily for me. The Internet is full of shiny objects that one might want to go for. But which blog to follow, which mini-literary contest to enter, which agent to pursue? Now I can hone my own powers of discernment. Thank you, red tail hawks!

This morning, I heard the distinct rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker on a telephone pole. He drilled down through the hard wood to get the tasty morsels hidden inside. Grubs and whatnot.

In my current writing project, I need to drill down farther into the material to expose the truly juicy parts. Yay, woodpecker!

In my personal life, a friend is dealing with very painful family issues, the result of ancient emotions that had never been dealt with. We often develop very hard defenses to cope with our wounds. The good stuff -- the bundle of soft, elusive feelings that make us who we are, and lead us toward our fullest experience of humanity -- is often buried below a thick wall that we created to stay safe. To protect ourselves from further wounding. To feel in control.

Everyone is wounded. If we are not wounded, we are not living.

Let's face it, without a strong beak like a woodpecker, it's gonna be painful to break through the woody exterior that has protected us for so long. Still, there is always time to peck away at that old, hard wood, and find the jewels below.

You think about something, and the universe responds...

I am continually in awe of serendipity, how things show up just when you need them.

But I am also asking you to help out. Please follow this new blog in my name.

This morning on one of the zillion blogs I follow, Chinook Update, I saw: Win A Free Chat with an Agent. I had to check it out.

Mark McVeigh reps both authors and illustrators, and his is positively oozing with industry insights. Very juicy.

I'm an author whose day job is as an designer/illustrator. I often dream of the perfect project that combines the sensibility of a novel with the cool visuals I imagine as I write. But just this morning I envisioned the illustration for the first page of my WIP (work in progress), and wondered if I need to stay on course and write the same, or differently - given that there will be ART?

If you follow his blog, and 10 people do this, I will get a 10-minute Skype call with him. And I have many questions...

Please follow! and let me know.

Three minute journey

Check it out. I loooove this animated journey into deep identity.

Head Garden from Lilli Carré on Vimeo.

Oh, and I am entering this agent's literary contest.

There are way too darn many cool things to do online that sort-of-involve-writing.

Review: "Olive Kitterage" by Elizabeth Strout

This novel unfolds through 13 portraits of people living in a small town on the coast of Maine. A large, brutally honest, no-nonsense retired math teacher, Olive sees her fellow townspeople mainly as nincompoops, ninnies, and dopes, and blames others for nearly all of her life's discomforts.

Widowed at 74, Olive slowly awakens to herself. Through her losses and disappointments, she begins to notice both the emptiness and the beauty of her days.When she finds tentative love in the arms of a man she would have barely tolerated previously, my heart flooded with joy.

How had I come to care about her so much? Terrific writing, full of nuanced, perfectly chosen details. Rich in surprises, suffering and smiles, this book deserved the Pulitzer prize. (As a slow writer, I was gratified to find credits for the stories go back to 1992).

What was the joy about? At any age, each of us carries the possibility of growing up. Any of us can discover a deeper way of experiencing ourselves, our relations and our world. So let's not wait.

Contests.

I've entered plenty of contests, but I never win anything.

Oh, yeah, except a hand-beaded necklace at the opening of the Suquamish Tribe's Bingo Palace.

Today I entered a first 500-words contest at KidLit, sponsored by Mary Kole, literary agent. She very cleverly required entrants to post links, thus this blog posting. It's such a good idea, I shall have to find a way to steal it.

My Fabulous Friends

Last night was a delicious evening, celebrating my friends' creative successes:

1. Artist Bridget Young (whom I first met as a teaching colleague in the 90's) has reshaped herself as a comic with a hugely loveable persona: The Realtor Lady. Last night at Bainbridge Performing Arts, Bridget was not only hilarious, she made it look so easy, to get up in front of a sold-out audience of 250+ and be Herself.

Many sides of herself, actually, including trailer trash, drunken east coast uppity bitch, scary creepy potential serial murderer. All with such wit and heart you fell in love with all of them.

Bravo, Bridget! You deserved that standing-O! You inspire us to make what we can, be who we are, and revel in it.

2. Paundy opened in a tight set of Paundiliciousness. This Kitsap band is magical, delightful, weird, unique, splendid, and just plain fun.
There's a reason they call it "playing" music, and Paul Burback, Andy Miller, Tony Dattilo, Chad Channing, Drew McCabe, and Justine Jeanotte totally get that.

These wizards cook up a musical feast, bending genres and trading instruments, toys and hats. Paundy mixes and matches rhythms and grooves like a plaid-and-paisley outfit from ValueVillage (which sometimes makes it a tiny bit hard to dance to). I am blessed to know them, and even get to sing and play along as Special Guest on occasion.

Check out their sounds on myspace.  Next stop, European Tour! You will rock them. And they will not be the same.

Thanks to Bridget and Paundy for their generosity: the fundraiser made over 2k for Habitat for Humanity.

 3. To top off the night, a bunch of us headed to IslandVibes at Pegasus, a tiny bar/dancefloor on Bainbridge Island. Friends Heather Wolf-Smeeth, Sean and Caitlin Matteson created this weekly event that looks like a scene, tastes like a scene, drinks artisan brews like a scene, and dances like a scene. DJ Seanchaí gave us massive world music love to shake our bones upon. Heather and Caitlin did not STOP once, not that I could see. Thanks for creating this space and opportunity for all us rural homies to get our groove on.

check out the IslandVibes facebook.

Wow, and this is only January. Looking forward to more joy with friends this year!