Back from France! Part 1

Entry courtyard, Le Vieux Couvent (LVC), Frayssinet.

Back home from France! Too soon, too quick, too much to write about. It was an amazing trip, even if some days seemed as if there was too much food (impossible to believe, I know), too much to see (all awe-inspiring), and far too many angsty-hours waiting for my suitcase . . . Air Canada managed to misplace my luggage (with many of the required art supplies I listed in my last post) for a whole nine days. However, thanks to the emergency wardrobe my LVC hosts had on hand because "this sort of thing happens all the time," I easily survived, and with an unexpected bonus when I returned to Albuquerque:

The "secret" path from my room to the art studio.

The easiest unpacking of my life: everything went right back into my closet. No laundry!

One of the many LVC gathering areas.

Which then gave me extra time to think and write about all the quirky, unexpected, and quite wonderful things that happened. There are so many of them that I've decided to write two posts: one on my top 12 happy memories, and a second post next week about the art side of the retreat. So here goes: 

The back road to the church and convent buildings.

1. Meeting the rest of the tour group. It was such a pleasure to meet up again with people I had known from an earlier trip to Taiwan, but equally special was meeting so many new friends. Our backgrounds were as varied as the many places we came from, and I absolutely loved listening to the different voices and accompanying accents around the dining table. So much so that I often caught myself saying odd phrases like, "Bonjour, y'alls," or thanking people with "gracias" rather than "merci" whenever we were out and about. Hopefully the French thought I was just one more crazy American and didn't give any of it a second thought.

 

2. Splash Ink Lessons. As I mentioned, next week I'll be posting about the art that came out of the retreat, but before that I want to say a huge thank-you to Ming Franz for making the trip possible. It wasn't easy organizing all of our tickets, rooms, individual requests, or bringing the vast amounts of paint and paper we needed every day. Without Ming, there wouldn't have been a trip and I can't imagine any of it without her.

 

Adventures in splash ink: Thank you, Ming!

 

3. My room. I felt incredibly fortunate (and a bit guilty) to have one of the best rooms in the house. It was so nice we called it "The Princess Room." What no-one realized though is that if you're going to live like a princess, you have to walk like one. If I fell over the ledge dividing my room from the doorway once, I fell one thousand times. I simply couldn't see where the ledge ended and the floor began. Eventually I got the hang of it: there is a drop--think before you fly, and I learned to hold onto the door frame before stepping into space. Awkward but life-saving.

 

Le Ledge of Death.

 

Le Princess Bed Extraordinaire.

4. Furniture Shopping in Collonges-les-Rouges.

One of my most unforgettable days was a morning spent helping one of my travel companions shop for patio furniture in the village of Collonges-les-Rouges--far more interesting than wandering around reading historical plaques: "built in 1564 . . ." Except halfway through sales negotiations, re: shipping details and what color chair cushions to choose, I suddenly DID notice a plaque. And not just one--an entire roomful straight from Albuquerque, NM. In the front of the store every wall was plastered with metal plaques and New Mexico license plates featuring Route 66 and the joys of riding a Harley down the highway. I was speechless until I was able to tell the shop owner that I and several other members of our group were from Albuquerque, leaving him as stunned as I was. He then led us outside to show where he was cooking lunch on one of the Mexican clay stoves he sold--the type of ubiquitous clay fireplace found in almost every backyard here at home. I still feel as if I were in an episode of The Twilight Zone.

 

Everything in this village was made from red sandstone.

Except for the clay stoves from New Mexico.

 

5. Kitty Boy (or at least that's what I called him). Although there were several cats on the premises (with strict instructions they were not allowed into our rooms), I've always been a push-over for gingers. Despite the language barrier (I'm assuming the resident cats only spoke French) this chaton was happy to sit on my lap and be smothered with affection whenever possible. On our last morning I just had to know what his real name was (Pierre? Jean-Luc?) but no one could tell me because it turned out he didn't actually live there--what a little cad! He'd only been visiting for the treats and attention.

 

What's for lunch? I hope it's not foie gras AGAIN . . .

I'm ready for my close-up, Monsieur Rousseau . . .

 

6. The "school bus." Which took me forever to understand was really, really for tiny school children. I'm sure I wasn't alone in thinking when we were first told a school bus would be picking us up from the airport that a school bus meant, well, a big yellow school bus. So when I saw the small white van that was to be our ride for the rest of the trip, I didn't understand. I became even more confused when I took my seat; it was so tight. Surely I hadn't eaten that much on the plane. All I could think was, "Gosh, the French are skinny. What's wrong with them?" Finally one afternoon after sitting in my usual sideways position receiving numerous bruises to my rib cage and kneecaps I saw the yellow triangle on the windshield warning oncoming traffic of les enfants on board. The other drivers must have been astonished to watch us full-grown adults tumble out when we reached our destinations.

Skinny little road just right for our skinny little bus.

Side street in Cahors too skinny even for us.

 

7. Les Picnics. The food was exactly as you would imagine French cuisine to be: first-class. Servings and courses were numerous. Wine in abundance. Presentation, beautiful. I ate every bite, usually while promising myself I would never eat again. And then dessert would arrive and my plans would mysteriously change. But despite all the country charm of the LVC dining room, my favorite meals were the outdoor picnics under the trees and with no mosquitos--ever. (Flies, yes, but they were a pretty gold color and didn't bite.)

 

One of my favorite picnic sites: the Water Gardens, Perigord.

 

8. Chaud Chocolat on a rainy day. Our visit to the mountain-high village of Saint-Cirq Lapopie was one of the days lunch wasn't provided by LVC. It was also a day when we were told families ate out and it might be difficult to get a seat at a restaurant. None of this meant anything to me because this was the day I planned to skip lunch. Instead, I went shopping for new clothes as by now I had given up on ever seeing my suitcase again. The streets were steeper than steep and we had been warned that "if you go down, remember you have to climb up." Things worsened as it began to rain. Yet up and down the cobblestones I went, my shopping bags becoming increasingly soggy with every step until I had nowhere to go but to a cafe. By this time I was also longing for not coffee, but my preferred chaud chocolat. To my dismay, when I entered the only restaurant I could find all the tables had "reserved" signs on them. Within seconds, however, no problem--a waiter took me to the best table overlooking the best view, removed the reserved card, sat me down and insisted I stay as long as I wanted. The chocolat was steaming hot and even came with a package of biscuits. Sitting there watching the rain fall and feeling so peaceful is something I will always remember.

 

Rainy day, Saint-Cirq Lapopie.

One shop wouldn't let me leave until they demonstrated how to style my new dress three ways. Only in France.

9. Before I bought clothes though, I bought a berry bowl.

I've always wanted a berry bowl and this one with a matching plate was obviously waiting for me. Handmade in Toulouse out of glazed terra cotta, I've been using it every day--not just for berries, but cherry tomatoes, rinsing spinach or draining a serving of pasta--it's a keeper!

10. Rocamadour and the Black Madonna. Prior to leaving Albuquerque I didn't pay very much attention to what our daily itinerary would be. Part of me wanted it to be a surprise, another was too busy collecting "12 plastic spoons" etc., etc. Visiting Rocamadour and the Black Madonna was the last thing I ever thought we would be doing, so it came as a genuine gift when we went there for the day. Black Madonnas have always been important to me, with a visit to Montserrat being one of the highlights of my life. As soon as I got home from this last trip I couldn't wait to re-read the memoir written by my friend Elaine Soto, My Journey to the Black Madonna. In her book she includes a chapter describing her own visit to Rocamadour illustrated with her artwork. Reading this section again added an entirely new, and shared, dimension to my feelings about being there.

Somehow I walked from top to bottom.

The main street at last.

11. Les Milandes. Another surprise was going to Josephine Baker's home, Les Milandes. You can't go to Europe and not visit a castle and this one was definitely worth seeing, especially as it had on display a full array of costumes (the banana skirt!), photographs, and furniture. The woman in the gift shop issuing tickets was impressed with the way we said "caaa-stle" as opposed to her British-inflected "cah-stle." "We wanna see the caaa-stle!" "Oh, I do like way you say 'caaa-stle,'" she said. "It's so much more . . ." Here she paused. As I was in a hurry to get inside the caaa-stle--no dilly-dallying for me--I suggested: "Jazzier?" "Voila! That's it! It's much more jazzier! Oh, I do like that too!" Always happy to help.

Les Milandes; Josephine Baker's home.

12. The Caves at Pech Merle. Were cold and drizzly and one of the most interesting--and moving--places I have ever been to. The wall art dates back 29,000 years and from the minute I entered all I could think about was how much I miss working in clay (temporarily on hold until I have a studio again). From early childhood when I was given a book on Neanderthal and Cro-Magnum cultures for Christmas I've been hooked on clay beads, bison and woolly mammoth figurines, and especially wall paintings made on damp earth and rock. Walking underground and seeing these creations was, without exaggeration, a dream come true.

 

No photography allowed so I "borrowed" from the website.

13. And one more: Swimming lessons. The two items I most wanted from my missing suitcase were my flip-flops and my bathing suit. Every day I would pass either one of the two pools and wish I could go swimming. On the day my case finally arrived it was late and nearly time for drinks and dinner but when I saw the sun sparkling on the water, I knew if I didn't take the opportunity to swim I would regret it for the rest of my life. Within minutes I was ready to go. What I had completely forgotten, though, was that I hadn't been in a pool for close to ten years. Worse yet, this particular pool was shaped like a soup bowl with rounded walls; no stairs or railings. Regardless, I thought I could just walk in (how hard could it be?) when of course I promptly lost my footing and fell ingloriously into the deep end. At the same time I immediately realized I had forgotten how to swim. Oh, great, I thought. I get my suitcase at last and now I drown. After a few micro-seconds of near-panic instinct suddenly kicked in and I found myself floating on my back, looking into the beautiful sky and thinking how perfect the whole trip had been. Just float, I told myself. Just float. And so I did.

Next post: It's all about the art! See you soon.
 

I Finished My WIP! Now What?

 

© creativecommonsstockphotos / dreamstime.com

It only took about a year longer than planned, but I am happy to announce my work-in-progress novel, Ghazal, is finally, really and truly finished. The End. I made it!

Of course, now the big question is: what's next? Until it's published, is a work-in-progress ever finished? What steps do I, or anyone else who's completed a WIP, have to take in order to get the manuscript into print?

Here's my road map:

1. The first thing I always do upon finishing a manuscript at any draft stage is to print it out and put it away. I make sure I don't even peek at a single page for at least four to six weeks.

2. Once my manuscript is safely locked away, I take a break. Lunch with friends. Shopping, Drawing, beading--even a writing challenge such as Camp NaNoWriMo with a new story in mind can be a refreshing break.

 3. The next step after all those weeks of fun is to take the manuscript out of storage and read the whole thing through, but with this sole promise: that I will not, under any circumstance, write any kind of notes on the manuscript. Instead, I like to have a legal pad and pen ready to list my page and line numbers that contain typos, grammatical blunders, glaring plot holes or character inconsistencies such as wrong birth dates or a jumbled timeline. 

4. When I'm finished with that task, I then transcribe my list item by item onto index cards. I then go through the manuscript and clip my cards to the appropriate pages. I still don't rush to "fix" anything yet. Instead, I continue to let the manuscript rest while I write out the best ways to make my corrections. This is because sometimes rather than fixing a typo I might replace it with a better word choice, or I may eliminate the word altogether. The same goes for plot holes; filling them in too quickly can sometimes lead to an entirely new set of difficulties.

5. When I'm certain that I've found my problem areas, I use the notes on my index cards to make my corrections and then print out a fresh manuscript copy. 

6. My next job is to create a chapter-by-chapter outline. For this I again use index cards and note down the one-to-two most important scenes per chapter. I then type the list into chapter order. At the same time I also like to consider what the purpose of each chapter is. I do this for both my own notes and as a possible addition to the outline if I feel it will shed more light on the individual chapers.

7. Now that I have my outline, I write a one-sentence log line describing my book: a character, what he/or she wants, why they can't have it . . . . Very concise, very simple.

8. From this small start I then write a one-paragraph book description.

9. Followed by a one-page synopsis.

10. Followed by a two-page synopsis.

11. I then write at least three different types of bio-notes: a few sentences; one paragraph; half a page.

12. I research agents, editors, and contests.

13. I then write a query letter based on my synopsis.

14. My final step is to create 12 separate submission packages each one tweaked to individual agent requirements (e.g. one agent wants a letter, a one-page synopsis, the first chapter. Another might want a letter, an outline, a one-paragraph bio and the first 50 pages. Whatever, I like to have each piece prepared for when and how it's needed.)  Once my packages are ready, I send them out, usually by email or through an online submission form.

15. And while my book is doing the rounds, I get to work on my next manuscript. Yep, it never ends!

Tip of the Day: The whole secret to this final stage of manuscript preparation and submission is to remember Rome wasn't built in a day. It's tempting to want to get the whole thing over and done with and as quickly as possible, but baby steps are key. Set aside 30-minutes to an hour a day solely to work on each of the above steps. Take your time and enjoy the process. And keep writing!

Adventures in Metal Clay

First foray into metal clay!

I've just returned (recovered?) from a 2-day class working with metal clay. Never in my life would I have thought making little metal bits and pieces could be a) so messy, b) so labor intensive, and c) so totally addictive. I can't wait to make more!
 
I apologize for the quality of these terrible photos. I'm not a photographer and I snapped them very quickly in my studio without a light box or any other professional set-up. No matter what I did I couldn't capture the rich luster of the pieces (the largest is about 2" high) which in real life have a much stronger sheen and color than shown here, thanks to several hours of polishing with a small hand-held rotary tool.
 

Copper pendants for beading.

Prior to taking the class, the only clay I ever worked with was just your typical ceramic-type clay: stoneware, porcelain, and terra cotta. The first time I ever heard of metal clay was through Twitter. I asked a Scottish jewelry maker how she crafted the quite lovely pieces she displayed on her profile page and she replied that she used silver clay. I was dumbfounded--I'd never heard of such a thing. When I further investigated the subject, I discovered there were all kinds of metal clays including steel, copper, and bronze which were the materials we used in the workshop.

My goals for creating the pieces were two-fold: first, I wanted to learn to make pendants for my bead work, and second, I wanted to create items for pottery inlay. I first thought of doing this when I brought home some antique coins from Taiwan several years ago and made a series of Asian-inspired pots using the coins for decoration. I was pleased with the way the pots turned out, but as I was tying the coins to the pots with leather and raffia I kept thinking it would be far more original and fun to create my own metal work designs. Hence my need for a workshop.

Now that I've taken the class and gone through all the stages of "I'm never doing THAT again," to "Wow, I could spend the rest of my life doing this!" my next step is to buy a comprehensive how-to book and investigate starting out with silver clay, a much less-complicated medium than bronze and copper. With silver, you simply form a design, fire it with a butane torch for a few minutes, scrub off the residue with a soft-bristled wire brush and Bob's your uncle--pure silver jewelry. Steel, bronze, and copper on the other hand require a certain amount of clay preparation (we mixed our own using powdered metal and water), a somewhat lengthy kiln firing, and a lot of finishing work: sanding, filing, and polishing. Again and again.

Despite all the tedium, not to mention the rivers of olive oil required to keep the clay from sticking to any surfaces and tools while in the molding stage (on Day One I was covered in enough oil to qualify as a fritter), I was extremely happy with my initial results. Believe me, they look much better in person, and I was amazed at my patience in learning to use a Dremel rotary tool without harming myself or others. I am definitely going to continue with this medium, and in the meantime I have eight pieces of treasure to keep me occupied for months to come. A real win-win if you ask me!

Tip of the Day: The workshop I took was held in a private studio but offered through the University of New Mexico continuing education department. Taking a class in the middle of the work week was as good as going away to summer camp for a month. What have you always wanted to learn to do? I bet your local school or college has just the course to get you started. Sign up today!

Good-bye, #CampNaNoWriMo

Time to gather round the campfire one last night and say good-bye to CampNaNoWrimo. It was fun, it was crazy-making, and it was often challenging to reach those word quotas, but we did it. Yay! And as always, I hasten to assure my fellow writers that if the best you could do was churn out an outline and a chapter or two, you still got some writing done and that's a win for sure.

As with every adventure, the minute I come home I like to unpack, sort out my souvenirs, go through my ticket stubs and guidebooks, and reflect on what the trip meant to me. In the case of CampNaNo, I didn't have to go very far from home, but I still came back with a virtual bag of goodies, mainly in the form of knowledge. Things I learned include:

• Choosing to write short stories rather than a novel wasn't as good an idea as I thought it would be. Don't get me wrong, I love writing short pieces, but it was sometimes difficult to end one story and then immediately begin working on a new topic with new characters, settings, and conflicts. I kept thinking I was "finished" with the whole thing only to have to start writing again. A novel, I believe, would have provided an easier flow of productivity.
• On the positive side, however, when a story's plot-line bored or evaded me, it was easy to conclude it with either a "happily ever after" ending, or drop it completely. In the latter situation, I was sure to make notes on various possible endings for when I do go back to edit and revise. 
• Whether I brought a story to a conclusion or not, I re-discovered and re-affirmed how much I love writing. I really do. First drafts are exciting. I can't imagine a life without them.
• I also learned that I'm a true "pantster," i.e., someone who writes "by the seat of their pants." The one certainty that kept me enthused every day was not knowing what would happen next. My curiosity was all the motivation I needed.
• I enjoyed being in a community of writers, especially being part of a cabin. It was encouraging to know other writers were busily typing or scribbling away, going through the same struggles and bursts of inspiration as me.
• It was great to stop marketing my current novel-for-sale for a few weeks. Putting query letters, synopses, and bio-statements on hold for a month was heavenly.
• Slow and steady does win the race. Although I did have some miraculous moments where I was able to write 4000+ words in a single session, in general I was happy sticking to anywhere between 1500-2000 words a day. I realized there's no need to over-achieve on days that are busy, chaotic, or full of unexpected catastrophe. Just 30-minutes a day can be more than enough to get that story written!
• I'm glad I took the time to create both a book of writing prompts and an accompanying art journal to go with my manuscript. I'm looking forward to continuing with the journal, and my prompts are great subjects for illustration, particularly for my children's picture book WIP. Double-duty!

As a "take home" reward and gift to myself for attending camp every day, I've splurged on a new bottle of sumi ink, a pad of rice paper, a bunch of collage ephemera and papers, and a sketchbook designed solely for ink and markers. Oh, and a 20-piece set of my favorite Akashiya watercolor pens. (I was VERY well-behaved, LOL!) So here I go: ready and set to keep  on writing  and drawing till at least the end of the year.

Back in January, or even May for that matter, I had absolutely no intention of signing up for #CampNaNoWriMo. In fact, if you'd suggested I do so, I would have come up with a thousand ways to say no. Yet when I made my decision to join up the week before camp started, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Spontaneity is an important part of the creative process. Never let your plans become so rigid that you miss out on valuable, and unexpected, experience. 

Tip of the Day: Even with toasted marshmallows and dips in the pool, a solid month of writing can be exhausting. If you're finding yourself suffering from word-burn, a good way to take a break without losing your momentum is to switch your focus from writing text to activities such as designing your book cover, creating a book trailer, writing your log line, synopsis and query letter, and if necessary, putting together a detailed character and plot map. Not only will your energy levels increase, but you'll also have a wealth of fresh ideas for beginning your revision and marketing tasks. 

Spring Get-Away: Corpus Christi, TX

I've just come back from a week's holiday in Corpus Christi, Texas, a place I've wanted to see for many years after taking a workshop from poet Denise Brennan Watson. In the workshop, Denise often referred to her childhood in Corpus Christi and how it influenced her found poetry and food writing, as well as her love of cooking and Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor's Vibration Cooking: or, Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl (which in many ways inspired my own WIP Ghazal). When I read The Undertow of Hunger, Denise's first full poetry collection, I was completely hooked. I just had to go to Corpus Christi one day.

Now that I've been there, I realize there was a lot I didn't know: mainly that the wind blows every single day and night, as in every single second of every day and night; the seagulls are small and cute but even noisier than the howling wind; the seawater is warm but posted signs warning of currents and jellyfish kept me from doing much more than wading; and the town itself can be rather empty. For an entire week my husband and I rattled around the quite lovely downtown all on our own, wondering where the other people were. I'm still wondering. However, it was nice to never have trouble finding a parking spot, the store owners and restaurant servers were polite and glad to see us, and the only panhandler we encountered asked for a dollar and then changed his mind, saying he "didn't really want it."

Despite the blustery weather, heavy thunderstorms, and getting my thumb smashed in our hotel room door when the wind whistled through the hall one particularly wild afternoon, we saw some impressive sights. Our room was right on the beach, and we could see the USS Lexington, now a museum, from our balcony. I loved how it was lit up at night recalling its nickname the "Blue Ghost", creating a ghostly and haunting image indeed. Going on board in the morning was even more intriguing. A trip that I thought would take half an hour at most turned into a four-hour exploration of decks, captain's and crew quarters, galleys, sick bay, chapel, engine room, bridge, and all thoroughly re-constructed to depict how life would have been on board during WWII. I was fascinated and frequently moved by the well-presented exhibits, and took the elevator only once at the end of the tour. After climbing and descending dozens of ladders placed throughout the ship I was grateful for the chance to simply push a button and ascend into daylight again. Well worth the visit and I do highly recommend going there if you're in the area one day (and feeling fit).

Another great place next to our hotel was this beach store that carried every kind of towel, flipper, swimsuit, T-shirt, and souvenir any tourist could possibly want. We bought a wind chime (what else??).

The Art Center was yet another good venue, complete with a restaurant where we had morning tea and cake while a local Irish band fiddled away:

Foggy, mysterious, yet pleasantly warm:

This (scary) (in the wind) bridge connected our hotel to downtown. I think we crossed it 500 times, but my husband claims it was only 499:

More views from our room. A beach of our own!

I wasn't able to sketch in the wind, but I did take some photos specifically for a future series of "Urban Sketching-style" drawings:

On our last day we visited the Aquarium. Although we were indoors, I couldn't sketch there either because it was apparently Kindergarten Day: hundreds of tiny tots in matching T-shirts to identify themselves as five-year-olds (just so there was no confusion with the few adults in attendance). I don't know which was louder: the wind, the gulls, or the children, but coming home to Albuquerque I'm still in awe of the silence.

Final shot of the docks. I think this would make a good painting, too:

Between wind gusts we went to some excellent restaurants (the Vietnamese one being my favorite. Breakfast with a city view upstairs at the Omni Hotel was also spectacular.), saw several movies, including "King Kong, Skull Island" (perfect escapism) and "Gold" which we soon recognized as having been filmed in Albuquerque! Other highlights were finding a bead store where I bought new beads for new jewelry projects, and going to Barnes and Noble where I purchased a book I'm still reading: Elizabeth Kostova's The Swan Thieves. I love it, and will forever pair it in my mind with a beautiful old city I'm glad I got the chance to see. Thank you, Corpus Christi, for an unforgettable time!

Sssh: Writer At Sleep

Sleep, glorious sleep--for a long time it's eluded me, and from what I hear, many of my creative friends have much the same problem. For roughly about the last two years, I've spent most nights tossing and turning, my mind going a zillion-miles-per-hour as I worry over plot lines, imaginary illnesses, remembering I have to pay a bill in two weeks, and oh, don't forget to return those library books by the weekend. . . . On and on. I'd say it's been a nightmare, except I haven't enjoyed any of the sleep that goes with a bad dream! If I got four hours a night in Slumberland, I considered myself lucky.

And then I got my Bucky pillow. Oh, my goodness.

I don't endorse many products outside of recommending some of my favorite art supplies, but I felt compelled this morning to tell everyone about my new pillow. I've had it for exactly two weeks now, and during these two weeks I've slept right through the night, EVERY NIGHT! Peeps, this is a miracle.

One of the reasons (I'm pretty sure) that I've had so much trouble sleeping is that I haven't used a pillow for decades. Every pillow I've ever tried has given me a headache, tried to suffocate me, or slid off the mattress (either that or I've thrown it overboard). Things got so bad a few weeks ago I even contemplated buying a new mattress. Then, out of the blue, I thought of trying a buckwheat pillow. Prior to this I had only read about these pillows in Japanese novels, and I've always been intrigued by the concept. However, the time had come to stop wondering and discover for myself what they were all about. 

I went to my local European-style pharmacy and sure enough they had them for sale (and on sale!). I bought two--one for me, one for my husband, and that first night I slept and slept and slept like I would never wake up. It's been that way ever since. I can't believe it. My husband is sleeping much better, too. Over the weekend I asked him if he wanted to go back to his old pillow. His reply? "Never!"

The pillows I bought for us are organic buckwheat on one side, millet on the other. They're smaller than a standard bed pillow, can be configured in a variety of heights and densities, and provide the best neck and shoulder support I've ever experienced. Although I have no scientific proof to back me up here (so please don't quote me), I have a feeling that the pillow is hitting all the right acupressure points in the back of my skull to induce sleep. I can't think of what else it can be, but whatever it is, it's truly amazing!

Sleep is vital to creativity. Heck, it's vital to life! I can't overstate how much better I'm feeling during the day, and how much less back pain I wake up with (currently none at all. Keeping my fingers crossed. . . .)

My next purchase will be to buy the Bucky travel versions of this incredible invention. Now that I've become such a total fan I can't imagine leaving home without one. And as my husband says, in case of global disaster, we can always eat them. A good deal, all round, I'd say.

Tip of the Day: There are many brands and types of buckwheat pillows available, "Bucky" being only one of them. But if you're suffering from any kind of insomnia or sleep-related problem, changing over to this type of pillow might be just the answer you're looking for. And if it doesn't work for you at night, I think you'll still be pleased at the way it makes an extremely firm and supportive head-rest for reading in bed or on the couch. Sweet dreams!

#AtoZChallenge, M is for Morning Tea (and Other Small Pleasures)

It's Friday and here I still am: collaging, journaling, blogging my way through the alphabet, landing on M and thanking the heavens for my morning cup of tea. 

Ah, tea. Solves everything, in my opinion! It also makes a good subject for drawing and art journaling. For today's journal page I drew (during my morning tea break!) my office tea cup, adding, amongst other things, the tag from one of my favorite tea bag flavors: Jasmine Green, and a scrap of origami paper.

For me, my morning tea is a much-needed daily ritual and respite. I don’t like to hurry any aspect of it. It's also loaded with memories: tea shops in England and New Zealand as a child;  visiting an organic tea plantation in Taiwan last year; my parents receiving annual shipments of Murfee’s tea from Canada when we lived in California. I remember when we went together to Vancouver to place that first order. The building was from another century, dark and paneled in Tudor black oak, with all the bins of tea arranged in orderly rows that made me feel I was on board an old clipper ship. I really can't drink tea without thinking about it at least once!

Tea, writing, drawing, and "M is for memories" just all seem to go together. Some journal questions you might like to ask are:

• Did you ever play "tea party" as a child? You know, with a little tea-set and mud-pies?
• What morning rituals do you now follow every day? (Even making your bed can take on quiet significance).
• What's your favorite way to take a break from daily stress, e.g., daily blogging?
• If you are a tea-drinker, what are your favorite brands and flavors? (Fortnum and Mason’s Royal Blend for me!) 
• If you're not into tea, what makes a good morning for you?

Tip of the Day: Art journaling can be about the simplest things. Tomorrow morning, make yourself a cup of tea. Sit down with your journal. Watch the steam rise. Take a sip. Start writing.

Make Every Day a Vacation

2015 was so travel-filled for me that I'm actually looking forward to staying home as much as possible this year. There are dozens of fun things to do in here in Albuquerque and never enough hours in the day (or night) to fit them all in. But as much as I love seeking out new museum displays, creative groups, or shops and restaurants, it can also be too easy to to become complacent and take them for granted. This year I want to change that.

One of the things I was most aware of while I was traveling was how different everything felt to me--from the air I breathed to the way the light struck a windowpane, and how quickly I stopped noticing those little nuances once I was back home. Around Christmas-time I was desperate to know why that was. 

Beyond the obvious answers such as, "Well, you don't have to wash the windows when you're on vacation," or, "Each day abroad is a chance to re-invent yourself," I realized that when I travel I put a lot more effort into what I can only call mindfulness, probably because I know it might be my only chance to experience that particular travel destination ever again.

So my major question for the year is: How can I cultivate that same travel mindset here at home and not just when I'm riding a tour bus? How can I make every day a vacation day? To get the ball rolling, I made a list while I was writing out some morning pages and here's what I came up with.

Have afternoon tea. One of my favorite things to do when I travel is to have afternoon tea either in a tea shop or right in my hotel room. I especially like trying out different flavors and brands that are foreign to me. Lesson learned: relax, savor, and enjoy some new tea brands (yay, oolong . . .).

Get up early, even when I don't have to. When I travel, I can't wait to get up and get out the door. All those places to see! Here at home, struggling to wake up before it's entirely necessary can be torture, especially in the winter. Then I remembered how much I love those fancy little shampoos and body washes the hotels provide. Stocking my bathroom shelves with spa toiletries has made my mornings a lot easier to face and far more luxurious--just like when I'm on vacation.

Sketch, sketch, sketch. Take photos. Of anything and everything. Sketching and photographing my surroundings lets me to see the world with new eyes--even the places I already know. Having a sketch plan or goal before I leave the house each day reminds me to take the time to look.

It's okay to draw like a little kid. When I sketch in my travel journal, I don't care how it turns out. I'm just going for first impressions and ways to capture the memories. The same applies to my daily journal entries. It's a viewpoint that cuts out the angst and makes creativity a joy to pursue and express.

Love the day without expectations. It's impossible to know in advance what you'll encounter in another country outside your own, yet, somehow, that never seems to matter. As far as I'm concerned, if it's a vacation, it's all good--exactly how I want to experience my day wherever I am.

Trust I am being taken care of. Goal: Give up daily worry, anxiety, everything negative that keeps me fretting and wastes my energy. The bus driver knows where we're going--so let him drive. My one and only job is to enjoy the view.

Eat well, eat small. Thanks to my vegetarian lifestyle, it isn't as easy as it should be to find a wide array of food choices when I'm on the road. And that is probably a good thing--less chance of stomach upsets, less chance of over-eating, and less chance to spend/waste money on not-so-great meals. This year I want to stay more conscious of only eating when I truly need to, rather than because "it's so yummy I can't resist and I don't care about stupid old calories." 

Walk more. Walking in Albuquerque (at least for me) isn't always a great idea: lots of traffic (and drivers who run red lights), broken and uneven sidewalks and streets with potholes, and the neighborhood shops aren't close enough to home to bring back groceries, etc. on foot. What we do have to counter that, though, are beautiful parks, open-air shopping malls, and a number of museums worth visiting throughout the year. It's no problem to drive to these places and then go for a good long walk once I'm there--with my sketchbook in hand. A wonderful way to stay in a holiday mood.

Travel light. I've always been a big fan of down-sizing, minimizing, and de-cluttering, but even when I think I've done my best, sure enough I find something more to give away, toss out altogether, or purchase yet another storage bin for. This year I am going to put a lot of thought into what I buy, asking myself: will it fit into my suitcase (i.e., my house/life) and how heavy will it be? And do I really need it? The answer, just like when I dithered over purchasing an entire set of Portuguese tiles last year, will probably be "no." And that's fine with me.

Tip of the Day: Whenever I travel I like to immerse myself in learning about the history, the food, the art, the entertainment, and of course, the people of each new place. One way to make every day a vacation is to do the same in my own backyard. A concentrated "course of study" about subjects as diverse as New Mexico's santos or native plants will go a long way to make being at home more interesting to me. I'm sure you'll find just as many fascinating topics in your own home town!