F is for Frommer's Barcelona Day by Day

Welcome to Week 2 of the A-Z Blogging Challenge. If you’re a new reader to my site, my theme for the month is “keeper books,” the books I can’t live without. Today’s selection is Frommer’s Barcelona, Day by Day, 21 Smart Ways to See the City. It’s one of my newer books—I haven’t even owned it a full twelve months. The reason it’s a keeper is that I used it last year on my trip to Barcelona, and I had so much fun I’m definitely going back! 

The book is small but loaded, much like the handbag I used to schlep the book over every square centimeter of Barcelona during my two-week summer vacation. And in many ways, that handbag was just as important as the book, maybe more so. Before I tell you why, I first want to apologize to the Barcelona tourist board for what may be perceived as a negative report, but it was their very own site that alerted me to the fact that Barcelona is swarming with pick-pockets. Yuk. At first I didn’t want to believe it—I’ve been in big cities, thank you, I can look after myself. Then I read the warnings again on numerous travel blogs, on my chosen hotel’s website, and finally in Frommer’s Barcelona Day by Day. Travelers beware: thieves abound.

I was worried. I’ve never been a paranoid traveler and I wasn't about to start. All the same, I decided I had to have the safest bag ever made to foil those pesky purse-snatchers. I wanted it to be stylish, small-ish, and something that didn’t scream “American tourist on the loose!” 

My solution was to go to a weapons site. Yes. Pacifist, timid me started scanning websites with names like “Gun-Toting Mamas” and “Guns-to-Go.” It was an education, mainly because it drew my attention to the reality that many women are a) armed and b) have good reason to be. Police officers, security guards, private detectives, women who live in dangerous American cities—all need to protect themselves and others, like it or not. And thanks to these resourceful sites, I found the perfect purse: tan leather, lots and lots of zippered pockets for things like passports and make-up, a slash-proof handle (very important), and a secret gun compartment (!). Once I removed the Velcro holster from the compartment, it was the exact size to hold Frommer’s Barcelona along with my travel journal and pencil case. Talk about turning swords to plowshares. 

Best of all, I could wear the bag cross-body, the recommended way those scary blog warnings insisted I do. They were right—on my last night in the city, while being seated at a very fancy and beautiful restaurant, a young woman was robbed. It broke my heart to see her sobbing helplessly while her family tried to comfort her as they called banks and embassies to block her credit cards and personal information. 

It was an eye-opener to realize the world isn’t as safe as it was in the past when I’d breezily ride the London tube home alone at midnight after attending a concert or play. It also got old to constantly clutch my cross-body weaponless-weapon bag like a cherished infant every minute of the day and night, but that’s the world we live in. It won’t stop me returning to Barcelona, or anywhere else for that matter. Besides, I have a secret weapon of my own: the purse itself. Filled with my pens, books, journals, camera, wallet, water, the thing weighs a ton. I’m sure it could knock out a grown man cold. The travel journal really is mightier than the sword. 

P.S. If you'd like to read my post about my wonderful and happy trip to beautiful Barcelona, just click here. Thanks for visiting.

E is for Electric Kiln Ceramics

Note to self: Never, ever lose Electric Kiln Ceramics, a Potter’s Guide to Clays and Glazes by Richard Zakin.

This former library book is stamped on the inside back cover with the damning instructions: DISCARD, DISCARD, probably due to the fact it is quite literally falling apart at the seams. All the more reason for me to cherish it these last fifteen years and do my best to give it a good home.

My husband found the book for me when we were at the Carrollton Library’s annual Friends of the Library sale back in Georgia. I had just started working in clay, and I was eager to gather all the information I could on the subject, especially for the grand price of a dollar!

Unlike writing, pottery is something I fell into by accident. I was taking drawing lessons that turned into watercolor experiments that somehow turned into pottery class. My first effort on that first day was a frog that fell apart and never made it into the kiln. C’est la vie. The advice I received that same day was much more valuable than any knick-knack: 1) Pretend you’re making a tortilla. 2) Never make your clay tortilla thicker than ¼ inch. 3) It’s just mud.

That was my teacher talking, but here’s some more great advice, this time from the opening lines of Electric Kiln Ceramics, Chapter Two:

“Clay is a special material with unique properties. It is in itself formless, but can be shaped into many forms. Although it is soft and pliable, it can be hardened by heat into one of the hardest materials known. To understand the nature of ceramics, the potter must understand the nature of clay.”

Kind of sums up the whole of life and creativity, don’t you think?

Electric Kiln Ceramics has remained next to my clay table year and after year, inspiring me with both its words and photographs. More important, though, it is a constant reminder of a little town in Georgia where I learned to make mud pies and how to let go of frogs. Not bad for a dollar.

D is for Dying, in Other Words

Dying, in Other Words by British author Maggie Gee has been a keeper since 1984 when I attended a two-week writing seminar in London hosted by Northeastern University. Our instructors included Gary Goshgarian, Stephen King, Tabitha King, P.D. James, Robert B. Parker, William Martin, and the imcomparable Maggie Gee. Dying, in Other Words was Maggie Gee's first published novel, and it is my first signed book: "For Valerie, All best wishes for your own writing. Maggie."

I've read that inscription many times. It's carried me through the worst of rejections, the panic of acceptance, and it's become a sincere wish I've done my best to impart to other writers, especially when I've been asked to sign my own published work.

Some of my strongest memories from that conference include Stephen King jumping out of a dark hallway shouting "Boo!", scaring me and a fellow student out of our wits; Tabitha King breaking the heel off her shoe right before class (yes, famous people have those days too!); and having coffee with Maggie Gee. What an afternoon that was. She was wonderful, patiently answering all my eager and innocent questions about agents and writing schedules and Angela Carter (it turned out they knew each other). But best of all, she encouraged me to write, to never give up, to make my dreams real.

Every day that I sit down to write I can't help but think of that glorious conference, thirty years ago this summer, and how much Maggie's words and style have influenced and inspired me. I'm also reminded how important it is for professional writers and artists to remain generous, to pass on the baton whenever possible: You can do it.

One last thing: Besides being a keeper for the reasons above, Dying in Other Words is a REALLY GOOD BOOK! A surreal and edgy murder mystery, it gets 5 stars from me--read it!

C is for Cliffs of Fall

The short story collection, Cliffs of Fall, by Shirley Hazzard is a keeper because a) I'm a Shirley Hazzard fan, and b) I enjoy short stories. In my opinion there are not enough stories published these days, and I don't think we're better off for it.

Cliffs of Fall was Hazzard's first book; some of the stories originally appeared in magazines--the kind that used to publish fiction by new writers, but no more. The title is from a Gerard Manly Hopkins poem, and what I particularly love is that I can see in the poem and the stories the themes and character motivation Hazzard worked into her novels.

I don't write short stories for publication (yet), but I have a pretty big collection of freewriting drafts I've produced every two weeks or so with my writer's group. One of the things I love about my group is that we don't critique. Instead, we meet and write from a prompt; sometimes it's an evocative photo, other days we'll use a line from a magazine or a book of writing exercises, often it's a combination of the two. Over the years we've written flash fiction, poetry, personal essay, and even sections of our novels this way.

Here's an example of a flash fiction piece I wrote one afternoon when we were still meeting at the now-defunct Borders Books and Music cafe (more loss!). It's a raw, "first thoughts" piece transcribed straight from my journal, run-on sentences and all. The prompt line was "It was Sunday when it happened" and it was matched with a black-and-white photo of a sunny office stairwell looking over a grassy field.

For as long as I can remember I have loved the hidden backrooms and stairwells of office buildings. The places where you can pause, even hide, from the relentless assembly line of paperwork and ringing telephones. There is a certain feeling of stoppage—the heat pulses warm from the tinted glass and radiators; the place is so quiet. It is where you can gather your thoughts, put your head in order, believe for a moment that you might actually have a real life somewhere outside of the office.

These quiet spaces are even more appealing on the weekends, those rare occurrences when I agree to go into work alone and for extra pay plus expenses to catch up on overflowing filing trays, or to complete the bookwork that was neglected in favor of some other more important deadline. On those weekends I am given a check for lunch, but I always bring one of my own. I’d rather eat my own food anyway, and the money they give me is enough for new shoes if they’re on sale, or simply to store up in my bank account for the proverbial rainy day when I may want to bolt and quit this dull place filled with people who would rather die than smile.

So there I was, eating my cheese and apricots, a flask of latte, and a book to read after I was finished eating, all snug in my favorite back hallway, the one where the windows face the sloping lawn and the lake below. No one ever walks on this lawn or swims in the lake. Instead, it is designed for privacy and a show of power. Acres and acres of grass for no one but the executives to maintain through the largesse of the company’s enormous profits.

I had brought in a comfortable chair and a pillow. My lunch allowance gives me an hour and a half on Sundays, and I was determined to take it. I know some people try to rush through their weekend work so they can get home and forget about it, but I love the solitude and relaxation of having the building all to myself. The security guards don’t check in until five, and even the maintenance staff are gone for the day. The entire block is mine. I could eat my lunch in the boardroom if I wanted and no one would be the wiser.

So there I was, alone, happy, ready to snooze when I saw them down at the edge of the water, obviously having forgotten, or perhaps never been told, that today was my turn to spend the better part of the weekend in their employ. There was only the two of them: Mr. Channing and Miss Hellman. The thing that caught my eye was not so much the surprise of seeing them, but what they were wearing. Usually I passed them once or twice a day and had never seen them dressed like this: in white and like people going to some bizarre party where all the guests were angels or high school graduates.

For a second I wondered if they were wearing choir robes, but there was something too creative and secular about their outfits. “Organdy” was the word that went through my mind. Maybe “prom dress” or “shroud” would have been appropriate, too. I saw them open a bag--the sort you see these days in grocery stores when people want to make some kind of self-conscious snooty statement about global warming or landfills, when what they’re really doing is spreading mites and bacteria. From the bag, a deep egg yolk yellow with a sunflower on its side, they removed something large and unwieldy and threw it into the middle of the lake. Whatever it was, it hit the water like a sack of potatoes and did not resurface as I imagined it might do, if only for a second. They then left as silently as they had appeared, their white gowns floating behind them.

They sold the company the following week, and we were all paid handsomely to leave and find work elsewhere. Perhaps I will investigate diving or pond cleaning for the new owners. Somehow I will make sure I can return to my spot by the window, if only for the chance to sit and stare in quiet, as if the world was made only for me.

B is for Bleak House

This is how I remember my mother: sick, sleeping, sewing, or reading. My job as a child was to stay out of her way, to be as quiet as possible, preferably reading a book of my own. If she did ever come close, it was with a mouthful of pins, both literal and metaphoric, and I was terrified of her.

Now before you think this is the start of a pity party, I want to assure you it isn't. The reason my mother and I never bonded is because I didn’t live with her full-time until I was five and going to school, and I left home at eighteen. But during those few years we had together, the one safe topic to share was books. I especially waited for those mornings when my mother liked to sit at the breakfast table and talk to my father about whatever book she was currently reading. One book I remember in particular was Bleak House by Charles Dickens. Listening to her speak, the title alone captured my imagination, describing what I believed to be our own house: bleak, cold, and very lonely. Even more disturbing, however, was that as my mother described the character of Jo, she couldn’t stop crying. 

I wanted to know more—about the story and her tears. One afternoon while she was napping, I started to read her library copy of Bleak House in secret. It wasn’t any good; I couldn’t understand most of it, but I did figure out that Jo was a street child, unloved and unwanted, a boy who cleaned the streets and helped a woman who had abandoned her own child.

Two years later, on a family visit to the UK, I saw a copy of Bleak House in a village bookstore and bought it with money my grandmother had given me for the trip. (My grandmother was a very loving and generous person. She had a chihuahua, painted in watercolor and oil, and drove a white Mustang with red leather seats. And we had FUN. So, you see, it wasn't all darkness . . .) Anyway, that year I was fourteen and I could finally appreciate Dickens’ style and flair. I also realized how much humor was in the story, and how valuable it was to laugh in the midst of chaos and/or despair. Yet it was only a few days ago when I thought about writing this post that I also realized how strange it was that I should discover a book about an estranged mother and daughter through my bitterly-depressed mother. There’s an irony here I want to explore further one day. Maybe this post is a good start.

My mother and I were never able to share much of anything in her lifetime; in the end she chose to live over 7000 miles away from home, but her love of reading has been her most important gift to me. Reading has given me some of the most wonderful moments of my life, carrying me through both the bleak and the sublime—and I am grateful for a life well-read.

A is for The Alexandria Quartet

Well, here we are--the first day of the A-Z Blogging Challenge, and I hope we all have a fun and enjoyable month reading, writing, and sharing our blogs with each other. As I mentioned last week, my theme for the month is My Keeper Books, the books I cannot live without. To start the party, my first selection is: The Alexandria Quartet, by Lawrence Durrell.
 

As the title implies, it's really four books in one: Justine, Balthazar, Mountolive, and Clea. However, the books are so intricately linked that I don't believe one can be read or understood without the others.

I can't remember when I bought my copy, but it was a long time ago at Foyle's bookstore in London (I used to live in the UK, so there have been a few trips back and forth) and I do remember reading it throughout the entire return flight back to the US.

I bought it for two reasons: first, my best friend from my New Zealand university days always said it was her favorite book--a great recommendation because she had excellent literary taste, and second, she had once made me watch the rather bad movie version. She claimed to have loved the film too, but maybe it was loyalty to the books that made her feel that way. Whatever her reasons, I personally found the movie, simply titled Justine, so cryptic and choppy I had to read the book just to unravel the plot.

To understand a bit more, you can read a great Roger Ebert review and even watch this incredibly hokey trailer (that YouTube insists on embedding with the "play" arrow right over Anouk Aimée's beautiful nose):

If you've stopped laughing, we'll continue . . .  

Questionable movies aside, The Alexandria Quartet is now MY favorite book. Set in Alexandria, Egypt before, during, and after World War II, reading it is like looking through a pinhole camera view of privileged, decadent, confused and hungry lives unique to their time and place. Romantic, political, desperate, experimental--the book and its characters call to me again and again, and that's why it's a keeper!

P.S. I suddenly want to see the movie again . . . oh, dear!

The 2014 A-Z Blogging Challenge

Taking a deep breath and . . . getting my mind around the fact that I've signed up for the 2014 A-Z Blogging Challenge. Whew. How did that happen??

Blame it on Twitter. Several weeks ago I came across a tweet from a fellow writer announcing she had signed up for the challenge. What challenge? I wondered. (Note to self: Limit wondering. Wondering can be a dangerous pursuit. You never know where it might lead.) Which then meant I had to follow the link that led me to the challenge and to what I now consider my totally insane impulse to sign up.

Here's what the challenge entails: blogging EVERY DAY (other than Sundays) for the month of April. To make things even more, um, challenging, participants must follow an alphabetical order for their posts (A-Z), and with an optional continuous theme. The good news is the organizers suggest writing short posts, somewhere between 100-300 words.

Short posts aside, I'm still asking myself why, oh, why have I done this?

A couple of reasons:  First, although I've been blogging for over five years now, I rarely think of myself as a "blogger." I don't know why, maybe it's because I consider myself a writer first, artist second, and "blogging" sounds too much like a job description. But I am a blogger, and the fact is, I love blogging. 

Secondly, I've always wanted to blog more often than my current schedule of once a week or sometimes less. But usually I'm so busy writing my novel or drawing or cooking or, well, you know, living, that the week disappears before I can get to a second or third post. The blogging challenge might help me to change this--not to write a blog post every day when the month is over (I mean, who'd want to read all that?), but at least a little more frequently.

My chosen theme for the month is My Keeper Books. These are the books I have on my very small bookshelf that are never going to the library donation table, the white elephant gift exchange, or to my best friends--even to borrow (sorry, besties!). But these are the books that I refer to over and over, and that I couldn't imagine living without. Some are decades old, others as new as a few weeks.

I won't be writing reviews or synopses, information that is easily available from Goodreads or Amazon.com. What I will be discussing is why these books matter to me: where they came from, who wrote them, why they are so important I've hauled some of them around the world more than once, and will probably do so again. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to examine the books in a new light and with a fresh purpose, and maybe introduce you to some great titles at the same time.

So that's the plan, starting on Tuesday, April 1 (and that's no joke).

Tip of the Day: Here's an easy way you can play along, too: plan to visit, read, and comment on a blog or two every day during the month of April. There's an entire list right here at the challenge site. See you next week!

Kitchen Lessons for Writers

I think I can easily say I enjoy cooking as much as any of my other creative pursuits. Maybe it's the combination of colors (red onion, green spinach, the bright orange of a ripe pepper), or maybe I just love to eat! 

Whatever the reason, I've certainly spent quality time in the kitchen, and like many of my interests, cooking seems to overlap everything else I do. It's also taught me some important lessons not just about food preparation, but about life in general (e.g., never read while stirring béchamel sauce; if the pot won't boil it means the stove isn't turned on; pets are your best friends for cleaning broken eggs off the floor). Other handy tips I've learned include:

• Kitchen space, writing space--it's all sacred space. For that reason I like to keep my work areas clean, uncluttered, and a pleasant place to be. The less time I have to spend searching for the right spoon or pen, the more time I have to create.
• Fresh ingredients. Although frozen food can be a wonderful resource on the nights I'm late coming home from work or just don't have time to run to the store, nothing beats fresh. It's the same with writing and painting: the best ideas are the fresh ones.
• Too much (or not enough) salt, sugar, and spice? A bland stew is boring to eat. Overly-spiced and it's inedible. When it comes to our creativity, not enough seasoning turns the work into a big yawn, but add too much and the story or painting becomes scattered, messy, and difficult to pull together.
• Use the right tools. Whether I'm cooking or writing I like to keep my utensils simple: cast iron pans, a few wooden spoons, a really good spatula. For my writing I prefer a fountain pen, a legal pad, and my Alphasmart. Once I have a complete draft I clean it up on Word. That's it.
• Do you really need a lettuce spinner? Depends on how much lettuce you eat! Seriously, though, I've never owned a spinner but I can see its usefulness. Every now and then we need a special gadget to make our work easier and fun. Maybe it's a set of glitter gel pens, or an ultra-expensive watercolor brush. Splurge.
• Shake up the recipe books. I own one cookbook: Sunset Menus and Recipes for Vegetarian Cooking. I bought it years ago while I was living in San Francisco, and the only reason I keep it is purely sentimental. It reminds me of my days walking home up Market Street, then catching the cable car to go grocery shopping. Once upon a time it did teach me how to cook vegetarian meals, but since then I've modified, added, and changed just about every recipe in the book. It's the same with how-to-write books. Read them, then adapt them to suit your own needs and style. Better yet, put all your new ideas and methods into your own how-to book!
• Fusion. There's nothing tastier to me than a dinner that includes more than one cultural influence: Thai burritos, or green chili quiche. My fusion tastes extend to my reading and writing, too. "Mixed genre" and "mixed medium" are two of my favorite terms. A mystery with romance elements; a pen and ink drawing on a collaged background and highlighted with watercolor--the possibilities are endless.
• Bake at 350 degrees for forty-five minutes. There's a reason why you're not supposed to open the oven door while baking a cake. Sometimes you do have to follow the rules, especially when it comes to submitting work for publication: clean, double-spaced manuscript pages; a three-paragraph synopsis; self-addressed envelopes for return or reply. Read publisher's guidelines and follow to the letter!
• Keep a sharp knife for editing. I'm terrified of knives. They scare me more than I can say. And yet I've learned the hard way that a blunt knife is one of the most dangerous things in the kitchen. My manuscripts benefit from bravery and a sharp pair of scissors, too.
• Leftovers. Save your snippets of dialogue, character bio, setting, or unused scenes. They can either be recycled into a new manuscript, or stand alone as a poem or a piece of "flash fiction." Every now and then, though, go through your files and see what's gone past it's "shelf-life." Getting rid of the old makes way for the new.
• Too many cooks can spoil the broth. Some people can't stand mayonnaise. Others complain because you added cloves to the apple pie. And there's always somebody who will insist you absolutely MUST peel mushrooms before adding them to a sauté. Listen attentively, be polite, then see what works and what you need to ignore. Writer's groups, beta readers, your next door neighbor--everybody has an opinion. At the end of the day, only you know what's best for your manuscript.
• Comfort food feeds the soul. Macaroni cheese; creamy mashed potatoes; endless spaghetti plates; bean soup on a cold day--sometimes old-fashioned is so much better than nouvelle. As much as I enjoy experimental literary fiction and an unconventional narrative, there are days when I need to read and/or write solid, strong, themed fiction that makes me fall in love with my craft all over again. (Hint: re-reading Velda Johnston's Masquerade in Venice never disappoints.)

Tip of the Day: What's a favorite recipe you haven't made in a long time? Examine the reasons for neglecting it: maybe you haven't had the time to spend on the required preparation or to shop at specialty stores for exotic ingredients. Or maybe the needed items are just too expensive, hard to find, and/or disliked by the people you're cooking for. Decide to make it anyway; schedule in a day for shopping and cooking, then invite friends in to share the finished results. While you're eating and socializing, here's a topic for conversation: what other creative projects have you put on hold? Brainstorm ways to get cooking again!

My Favorite Art Prompts (Great for Writing, too!)

Deciding what to draw or paint every day can be just as worrisome as wondering what to write. That's why I rely on my grab-bag of prompts for both activities, whether they're from magazine cut-outs, art history books, or my handy pile of themed index cards. 

Today I thought I'd share some of my favorite idea-starters, ones that can be used for artwork or sketching practice as well as steering clear of the writing doldrums:

• Illustrate a fairy tale. It helps to choose a story you truly love, but if, on the other hand, you feel that "Sleeping Beauty" or "Little Red Riding Hood" have been over-done, or are too iconic, try choosing an unfamiliar tale, one from a culture foreign to your own, or one you've made up!
• Collage your current goals. Magazines are a great way to find your initial pictures, but don't overlook the hidden gems you might discover in junk mail, retail catalogs, or business brochures.
• Last night's dream. Although it can be fun to reproduce the objects and scenes from a dream, I personally find it more evocative to paint the mood of my dreams. Fortunately, I have always dreamed in color, but even if you're a person who dreams in black-and-white, you can still explore what you think the colors of your dream would be if they appeared on paper.
• A still life of five random objects. Don't think--just gather items without judging or evaluating their artistic worth. Your job is to arrange the items in such a way that they take on a whole new life and meaning. Aim for, "Wow! I never thought of that before!"
• Copy an Old Masters painting in pencil. Don't be overwhelmed if the painting you've chosen to copy is too big, too detailed, or just plain old "too good." Instead, play with line work, blocking out the composition, or a portion of the picture, e.g., a section of drapery, the trees in the background, the hands in a portrait.
• Cut up or tear a reproduction or photocopy of an Old Masters painting and turn it into a collage. Pay special attention to the colors and themes of any materials or ephemera you add to your composition. Try some startling contrasts or harmonious blending. 
• Your hand holding an object. Sometimes when I'm really stuck for subject matter I'll simply draw my hand and wrist. To make the exercise more lively, I've started adding objects to the mix: my pen, a toy, a cup of tea. Often these drawings can be the equivalent of a complete, but much-less complicated, self-portrait.
• Draw or paint a landscape with only two colors. Limiting yourself to a two-color palette can be a fun and inspiring choice. Will you use complementary colors (say, red and green), warm vs. cool colors, or two shades from the same range, for instance a light violet paired with a darker purple? It's interesting to note how the colors you pick can often speak more loudly than an entire rainbow of color.
• Collage with black-and-white photos. Make photocopies or prints of vintage photographs, whether from your own family or those found in used bookstores or thrift stores. Tell a visual story; then add writing or calligraphy to embellish the composition. Alternatively, you can use the pieces to make a strong and surreal abstract.
• Cut shapes out of various colors of construction paper. Then arrange them into interesting designs you either glue to paper and paint over, or use as a reference to copy and turn into a separate, and original, piece.
• Draw to music. Never fails. Whether you're doodling or painting a masterpiece worthy of gallery space, listening to music while you work is a great way to loosen up and fully express yourself.
• Read a poem. Then paint your feelings, or illustrate your favorite line(s).

Many, if not all, of these ideas can easily be turned into writing prompts. For instance, rather than painting a fairy tale, try rewriting one like I did with "Little Goldie"-- my take on "Goldilocks and the Three Bears." Happy creating!

Tip of the Day: Write these and any other prompts you can think of on scraps of paper. Fold each one into a square, then place it into a jar or bowl to select at random each day. Be sure to keep the prompts when you're finished; repeating the exercises with new subjects, mediums, and approaches is a valuable practice in itself.

Start the Day with a Mini-Project

I'm a big fan of morning pages, but there are definitely times when I need a break. It's not that I don't find the pages useful, but every now and then I need to shake up my routine and make life more . . . exciting.  

One of the ways I thought of doing that was to start my day with a "mini-project" instead of the usual three handwritten pages Julia Cameron recommends in The Artist's Way. I got the idea from a gardening book that mentioned how Renoir painted a single rose every day before tackling his main work-in-progress. I don't know if I could stick to a regimen that centered on a single subject, but I can certainly appreciate the need for a warm-up exercise. With that in mind I sat down and brainstormed what might work for me--and for you, too! 

• Write a structured poem such as a sonnet, pantoum, or ghazal. Base the poem on last night's dream.
• Cut three pictures with a similar theme or subject from a magazine. For example, 3 pictures featuring purple. Or three pictures of dogs, or children, recipes, etc.
• Collage a three-page character bio--for either an existing character or a new one.
• Play with watercolor brushstrokes: random colors, patterns, feelings.
• Sketch one item only, e.g. a cup, an apple, a toy--using a single medium.
• Write three pages of dialogue.
• Place an artist's mannikin in a fresh pose every day. Record the poses in a single sketchbook used only for this purpose.
• A quick sketch of where you are right now. Try a different color of pencil or ink for each day.
• Write a stacked journal entry in three colors of ink.
• Clay: make a small pinch pot, egg cup, votive, bead, dipping bowl, soap dish, or incense holder.
• Three pages of flash fiction.
• Mini-collage on a piece of junk mail.
• Set a timer and create a new Polyvore set or Pinterest Board in twenty minutes or less.

Tip of the Day: At the end of the month, collect all these mini-projects and use them to create a larger piece, or to inspire you in some fresh way. For instance, a sketchbook of mannikin poses could be the basis for a new children's book. The stacked journal entries could be part of a framed collage. At the same time, examine what you enjoyed writing or drawing the most. Did you have a favorite theme, color, or medium? Take note and keep exploring.