Dawn Wink: Dewdrops

Writing, Teaching, Language, Landscape, Life


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Authentic Creative and Professional Community through Social Media

Original by Jim Doyle

Original by Jim Doyle

When I shared in Dewdrops last week that in a few days I would be giving a workshop on Authentic Creative and Professional Community Through Social Media for New Mexico Women in Film (NMWIF), Noé came home that evening and said, “What? Wait, are you attending or giving this workshop?” It’s been a tad busy around our home lately with end-of-semester and school-year portfolios, finals, grades, kids’ sport banquets, deadlines and more deadlines. Not that it is that unusual, though, for Noé to say, “Wait, you’re doing what?” in our home. 

Bathing Bad

Bathing Bad

A heartfelt thank you to Linda McDill and Melissa McCurley for inviting me to spend the evening with NMWIF. What a treat! This was a marvelous evening with wildly creative people -actors, screenwriters, and artists. First, the location. Noé and I walked into an older building in downtown Albuquerque to find a room swathed in luscious purples, reds, golds, and smelling of lavender and all kinds of other warm, yummy smells. This man I’d never met before walked up, looked me up and down and said, “Cute shoes, the meth is on the table,” looked at the coffee in my hand, “and where’s my coffee?” I was actually speechless. I’d just met Keith West-Harrison, owner of Great Face and Body, host of our event, and creator of the “Bathing Bad” Bath Salts used in the hit TV series Breaking Bad. The “meth” on this table was actually candy, tastes just like rock dandy, and a gorgeous color of turquoise. If only every presentation happened in this room of a luxury spa, smelling of lavender. And the stage where I presented has been used for music concerts, movies, and burlesque. It’s not every day that I get to present on a stage where burlesque dancers recently swayed. I loved it!

With Linda McDill, President of NMWIF and Melissa McCurley

Linda McDill, President of NMWIF and Melissa McCurley, member and actor on Breaking Bad.

Here are the ideas I shared, discoveries I’ve stumbled upon along the way that have made a profound difference in my relationship with social media. Remember, I was the person who swore up and down that I would never do social media, because of this, that, and the other… I considered naming this workshop, “Yet Another Time Hell Officially Froze Over in my Life.” There is actually quite a stack of those now.

What I have experienced since that time is an incredible professional and creative community I never would’ve known, had it not been for social media. What I’ve discovered is social media is just another creative medium – just like quilting, creating jewelry, writing, painting, and any other artistry. Social media is a canvas to fill with color, a page to fill with story, a necklace to bead, a cake to decorate, a song to write and sing, a garden to plant and tend. Once I realized this, my entire relationship with social media changed and I fell in love with the creativity of it all. 

Please grab a pen and paper and scribble your thoughts, if that feels right.

So, here we go!

~

Clouds

Clouds

1) What do you want to get out of our time together? What do you want to learn from this? 

Here are some of the things people in the workshop wanted to take away from our time together:

* To understand the holistic view of how the many different formats of social media can work together

* Connecting these formats without being redundant

* Why should I talk to people I don’t even know online?

* What is the line between professional and personal in social media and how do I not cross that line?

* How can I present a personal presence and still be professional?

* How do I avoid the dumbing down that I see happening in social media?

All of these are thoughts and wonderings I’ve wrestled with myself.

Park Güell, Barcelona

Park Güell, Barcelona

2) What is your vision for your social media community?

Who is your intended readership?

What are your professional goals?

Personal Goals?  

How would you like people to describe your social media presence?

3) The formats for social media we’ll focus on here are:

• Blogs

• Facebook

• Pinterest

• Twitter

Dewdrops

Dewdrops

BLOGS: Blogs can be a way to share ideas and create community around the world.  When I started Dewdrops, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. In my first post in August 2011, I wrote, “So here is my hope – that this blog will be doses of writing, dewdrops, that might knit us together in this wild, heartbreaking, and exquisite experience of life. Inevitably along the way, there will be thoughts and questions about language, culture, writing, teaching, the land, kids, and anything else that composes the chapters of life. I look forward to our journey together.” This tender hope has guided me along the way and guides me still. 

While I knew almost nothing about blogs, two things were clear to me about my vision for Dewdrops:

• Community rather than Self-Promotion

Some of the downfalls of blogs tend to be an erring toward narcissism. This is what gives blogs a bad name, and with good reason. Just as any good memoir, what engages people, even if a writer is writing about herself, is the human experience and connection created. My intention with Dewdrops is to create a place for community. How to do that? A writer’s intention comes through in the writing. When I sit to write for Dewdrops, I think of the readers, think of what I know about their lives, think of their gifts and my own gratitude for sharing this journey. If we write authentically, focusing on community, the reading becomes a shared experience between reader and writer. When this happens, what a gift!

• Quality rather Quantity

What matters in blogs is consistency. What is right for a writer varies wildly. I’d rather post less and write pieces of depth and/or substance. I know this goes against a lot of philosophies about blogs out there, but this feels very right for me. I post about every two weeks. People are busy and time to read is precious. I respect this as a writer and as a reader. This is also dependent on topic and readership. Whatever feels right for you, and your readers, it is the consistency that counts.

Character and Texture: The more I write, the more the character and personality of Dewdrops unfolds and develops, the more natural this space for community of ideas feels. One thing I’ve learned is I love to texture the pieces with photos, with color, with vignettes from real life. I write about what I love, whatever that may be. If we write about what we feel drawn to write, instead of thinking about what we should write, these creates an authentic community of kindred spirits. We’ll find each other. 

Community: It has been a blessing – and fun! – to come to know the members of our Dewdrops community. Creating posts which allow members’ talents and gifts to shine creates community and is a real treat for all. For example, Writing Spaces of the World and Artists Among Us

facebookFACEBOOK:  Ah, Facebook. My mom was on Facebook for years before me. “I have to stay ahead of my grandchildren on technology, so I can communicate with them!” I figured that if one of us was on Facebook with my kids, we were covered. Remember how it felt to me like I was standing in the window of a department store in the downtown of a major metropolitan city – in my underwear? What I’ve discovered is a supportive, creative, inspiring community is possible on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dawn.wink.3?ref=tn_tnmn Here are some things that helped me:

• Friend/Like the pages of people you admire: For several months before I actually started sharing anything on Facebook, I Friended and Liked the pages of people I admired and studied how they negotiated Facebook. I was aware of what I liked, what didn’t feel right for me, what they would share, and what they didn’t share. This helped me enormously to get a sense of the possibilities and potential. This gave me a sense of the personalities of each. Most of the people I followed are writers and convey a shared sense of both the professional and personal: Luis Alberto Urrea, Elizabeth Gilbert, Isabel Allende, Craig Childs, Terry Tempest Williams, and Anne Rice.

Nefe & Breaths

Nefe & Breaths

• Follow sites on FB that you love: Took me several months to learn this. I found myself again and again drawn to images and quotes from the same sites over and over.

I’ve found I love Nefe & Breaths, Writer’s Write, and Wild Woman Sisterhood, among others.

• Share what you love: I only Share what has an energy charge for me. That’s the deciding factor. If I feel a jolt of recognition, excitement, or importance, then I’ll Share. My student, Melissa McCurley, brought her Character Journal to our Fiction Writing

Melissa's character journal

Melissa’s character journal

class and I fell in love with all she’d done. I was amazed at not only the ingenuity of her idea to create depth in her characters, but also at the sheer aesthetic beauty of the journal. Each page is devoted to the history of a character – conveyed through collage, seeds, lists, clusters, even a bullet she found on the ground. I loved what she’d created and ask if I could share. This inspired a long conversation on Facebook about journals, about the contents of Melissa’s journal, and how other writers were going to include in their own writing.

Another path to follow..

Another path to follow..

• Create themes: This I fell into and I love. I found myself drawn again and again to photos of paths in different places around the world. I started to Share under the title of, “Another path to follow…” I discovered that other people loved these paths, too, and looked forward to them. I found myself drawn to the definitions of very cool words and Shared those. These took on a life of their own with people commenting, and Sharing. I discovered people looked forward to these paths and words and these little communities take on a life of their own.

• Personalize: How much to personalize and remain professional and appropriate? Always the question. This, too, has developed over time for me. This, too, has developed over time for me. I’m guided by what I would like to receive, know, see from people I love and/or admire. Underlying it all is an assumption that, even though Facebook has privacy settings, once it’s on FB, it’s out in the world. I don’t share or write anything I wouldn’t mind having on the front page of the morning paper for the world to see. And there are sometimes more personal glimpses, like what I

Blessings on my 45th.

Blessings on my 45th.

shared on the morning of my 45th birthday: “My birthday present to myself this morning was to write in my journal by candlelight, the full moon bright in the window. I wrote of my gratitude for the many blessings I celebrate on my 45th birthday. A student asked me yesterday what I wanted for the future, and I realized, “To expand on the present. To love, to parent, to write, to teach, to give thanks for the nest of family

Respite in the Rio Grande

Respite in the Rio Grande

and dear friends.” Blessings all. All the more cherished for the birthdays in other chapters of life. It is a time of deep gratitude.” 

And sometimes there is just the spirit of fun and whimsy at unexpected joys, like the time I was driving home from observing student teachers in Taos and on the complete spur-of-the- moment, I pulled over along the Rio Grande to put my feet in the water. In the midst of a busy week, this was sheer heaven – so I shared.

Editing Meadowlark

Editing Meadowlark

• Upcoming publications or announcements: With MEADOWLARK‘S upcoming publication, I’ve shared aspects of its journey. In deciding what to share, I think about what I enjoy

seeing about others’ artistic journeys. These aspects tend to be fascinating to me. I’ve shared aspects of writing and editing. A community of readers, friends, writers and other creatives gather around this journey and creates an energy of its own. 

• Idea Inspiration: And sometimes these themes and posts inspire one another, when for example a series of photos I took of a nest with eggs beside our front door and Shared over the course of a month became this piece on Dewdrops: The Nest Behind the Skull

imagesPINTEREST: Pinterest is series of visual boards, each arranged around a theme. This is a marvelous opportunity for writers and artists. The fun is the themes of the boards – Some of the topics of my boards are: Meadowlark, Raven’s Time, Beautiful – Colors, Textures, and Places, Dewdrops, Wildness and Beauty, Quotes to Live By, Education, Writing, http://pinterest.com/dawnwink11.

Grace, MEADOWLARK

Grace, MEADOWLARK

When thinking about boards, what ideas, artistry do you want to get out into the world? What kind of community do you want to create and be a part of online? Two things to think about with pins: 

Personalize. Include some kind of little idea or note that is yours and connects you and the people who follow your boards.

• Include live links to your own work. If I pin something on the Meadowlark, I include a live link back to what I’ve written about Meadowlark on Dewdrops. 

Why do Pinterest? Because it creates the opportunity to connect and share your work with people in all kinds of ways that would otherwise remain closed.

twitter-bird-light-bgsTWITTER: Twitter is about the business end of keeping up with writers I follow, people I love, and important ideas in education and writing. My attitude about Twitter is, “Just the facts, ma’am.” It’s an important way to share own’s own work in a community, as well as receive and pass along ideas and work we support. I follow a number of writers, educators, and organizations in the publishing industry. 

 

4) Some things to consider when creating your social media presence:

• Your reality – My reality is that I work full/over-time teaching at the college and beyond, have three teenagers active in what appears to be every sporting, school event possible and I realize these are the good ol’ days with them and mothering comes before all else, write books, have been given the gift of finding love in this second chapter of my life and want to be a fairly present spouse to him. Soooo, my social media presence needs to fit into this. Consistency is what is important. It’s the composition of that consistency that varies. What is your reality? What implications does this have for your presence?

• How to handle certains topics –  One thing that I’ve wrestled with quite a bit is how to handle national and international tragedies. And, of course – politics. Will you address these? If so, how? 

To bring everything together, as you move forward:

Hummingbird outside my window.

Hummingbird outside my window.

5) Your Authentic Creative Social Media Community

• Which formats attract you?

• Possible Themes

• Envisioned Community

• Professional Goals

• Personal Goals

• First Steps

If you are looking to work with a professional (and fabulous person) to help you with this, I highly recommend Ashley Biggers, who specializes in Social Media for Writers. 

I just finished this piece and can’t help chuckling. This cracks me up that I am writing about this. If somebody had told me a year ago that this would be my experience, I never would’ve believed them. And, yet here I am. Much to my amazement and surprise, this new creative format is one that I love. I am deeply grateful for the people and opportunities this format has brought into my and my family’s lives. Incredible, really. 

I hope these ideas have been helpful. I’d love to learn your ideas, experiences, and suggestions. 

With Keith West-Harris, co-owner of Great Face and Body. He gave me a copy

With Keith West-Harrison, co-owner of Great Face and Body Day Spa and host of our event. He gave me a copy of an incredible book Women Empowered: Inspiring Change in the Emerging World. “A deeply inspirational work. Phil Borges has brought us face to face with heroes—remote and mostly unknown women—on the edge of a slow but steady transformation, bringing social and economic justice to women and girls worldwide,” wrote Isabel Allende. Thank you, Keith, for graciously hosting our event, for this gorgeous book, and for your care for the world.

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How to Create an Authentic Creative Community Through Social Media

New Mexico Women in Film

New Mexico Women in Film

Hi Everyone,

I just received this gorgeous announcement for a workshop for New Mexico Women in Film that I’m giving Tuesday, May 21st. Guests are welcome and I’d love to share this time with you!

Create an Authentic Social Media and Blog Presence

This interactive workshop focuses on how to create a social media presence based in authenticity, community, and creativity. We’ll explore ideas and tips about creating a Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and blog presence that reflects a creative and professional spirit – and is actually fun to do. Through guided exercises, participants discover ways in which their goals and dreams can be extended virtually to open new doors of professional and personal possibilities.

Dawn Wink is a writer and educator whose work explores the tensions and beauty of language, culture and place. Wink started a literary, educational and artistic blog community, Dewdrops, in 2011 and will release her latest novel, Meadowlark (Pronghorn Press), this July.

NMWIF members no charge / $15 guests

Place: The Mermaid room at Great Face and Body 125 S. Broadway SE (just south of Central) Albuquerque, NM

Time: May 21  6:30-8:30 pm

Tickets: www.nmwif.com

Remember, I am the person who originally joined Facebook only because my teenagers were on and I wanted to spy, ahem, I mean join their FB community. I resisted social media for many years. The mere thought of Facebook made me feel as if I was standing in a downtown department store window of a major metropolitan city – in my underwear. This is NOT something that came naturally to me. 

My literary agent, Liz, had been encouraging me to start a blog for years. I resisted much for the same reason that I resisted other social media – it felt way too exposed and way too self-promotional. I finally dove in last August, still resistant and with completely no idea what I was doing. Same for Facebook. I had no idea what to do, and made every mistake in the book. 

These past months I’ve stumbled my way through this new world. Here’s the huge surprise to me – I actually LOVE the creativity and community possible through social media and blogs. Nobody is more surprised than me. Nobody. Except perhaps those near and dear to me who heard me rail against them for years… 

This is because of YOU, Dewdrops readers and my Facebook community. 

What I have discovered, through much trial and error, is that authentic creativity and community are possible. I cannot tell you that wonderful, magical, professional, and simply amazing people who have come into my life through social media. 

This is the first time I’ll be presenting on what I’ve discovered stumbling along this path. Thank you to Melissa McCurley and Linda McDill for inviting me to share this time with New Mexico Women in Film. I have heard this is an amazing, creative group of women. I know I will learn as much as I share. This workshop is designed for all Creatives – actors, artists, writers, et al.

I’d love to share this time with you.

Love,

Dawn 

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My Mother’s Hands

Me and my favorite mare, Josie. Photo taken by my daughter, Wynn.

My hands and my favorite mare, Josie. Photo taken by my daughter, Wynn.

In honor of mothers everywhere, it is my great pleasure to share this essay, “My Mother’s Hands,” written by my amazing student and friend, Heather Burrell. This piece won the Santa Fe Community College Student Writing Awards for Personal Essay.

Heather Burrell and Dawn Wink, SFCC Writing Awards, Collected Works

Heather Burrell and Dawn Wink, SFCC Writing Awards, Collected Works

Heather and I met last year, when another instructor asked me to teach her class one day. Heather and I connected in that class, and slowly I learned her story. Heather began working at 10-years-old, and left school in the 8th grade (age 13) to work full-time waitressing and cleaning houses. She only just recently returned to take classes. She said to me one day, “I don’t speak school.” There is such deep wisdom for us all in those words. I will write more about that wisdom in a future Dewdrops.

I sat in the audience as Heather read this piece, tears streaming down my face, thinking of her life story and where she is now.

Enjoy.

My Mother’s Hands

by Heather Burrell

My mother comes into the darkened room and pulls the patchwork quilt up to my chin.  I have already tucked myself in, as it’s past midnight and there’s school in the morning.  I’ve been waiting for her, wide-eyed and sleepless.  Her clothes and hair smell like a cloud of fried codfish, but I breathe right through it and into her neck, which is dewy and sweet with the Chantilly Lace she spritzed on at dawn and which has since paled from her clean sweat.  The ghosts of Clorox and other cleaning agents waft into my eyes and burn hot from my mother’s hand as she smoothes the blanket over my back, the fabric crackling as it snags her broken skin.  I am seven.

Three years later, she brings me into work with her. And though I didn’t know it at the time, my mother was raising me to be a caregiver.…

“Cherry, like the pie,” is how my mother introduced herself to her customers. A waitress by day and a mother by night, she has made a life out of serving others.  “There are people who can make the creation of poetry or leadership of a large university or corporation seem loathsome, and then there are people who can make the job of porter or waitress seem a good and useful thing,” writes Joseph Epstein, in his essay (241).

I saw my mother, a good and useful person, making the job of waiting tables appear respectable and dignified, character-defining, benevolent, and at its most rarefied moments, blessed. I was not taught to ask what defined good work- it was simply modeled for me. I was not raised to ask if work was something I really wished to do, or enjoyed doing, or should enjoy doing. We simply worked because we were working people. There were no silver spoons and the world was not an oyster- but I didn’t know that, and I didn’t mourn it. To me, the world felt as full and fat and rich as butter.

Heather Burrell

Heather Burrell

I became a busser -and my mother’s saving grace- the same week she came close to strangling a new co-worker whose work ethics had driven her to the brink of good sense.  Her nemesis consistently showed up late, ornery and inebriated, and then disappeared into the freezer.  The walk-in freezer served as more than storage for frosty perishables; it was the hideout for underage employees, a quiet place to linger with a joint, a clandestine corner for steamy kisses, and a safe, soundproof cell to cool down with a long scream.  My mother’s difficult coworker would never have been able to keep up with her, but he barely tried.

The establishment, Tesuque Village Market, was known for its talented French pastry chef and addictive green-chile turkey burritos.  All day, every day, the restaurant was slammed.  My mother would rise at 4:30 AM to be at work by half past five, in time to wipe down tables and chairs on the patio.  But the early hour was worth securing the patio.  It didn’t matter if it was the middle of summer or the dead of winter; the tables on the patio were always the first to fill, and therefore the most sought after by the waitstaff. And so it came to be that weekends, school holidays, and summer breaks commenced with silent drives at twilight, as I willed my tired eyes open to the purr of the engine and the scent of Chantilly Lace telling me we’re on the way to work.

Work came naturally to me, but speed came with practice.  It took me thirty minutes to get everything so clean I could see my reflection flicker in the tabletops when I stood in the center of the patio to admire my work. Each table would be set up with neatly filled sugar containers, sparkling glass bottles of ketchup and mustard, and polished silverware rolls.  I started each ten-hour sprint like this, over the course of three years.  On the rare occasion that the Department of Labor dropped by for an inspection, I was shuffled into the freezer like a stowaway.

I never stopped working, often times holding down three or four jobs.  I had no idea that my career as a waitress, a server, and ultimately a caregiver would start when I was ten and continue throughout my life. When I started cleaning houses at fifteen, I began to wear thick rubber gloves to protect my sensitive skin. I was a home-schooled and God-fearing Christian at the time, and if cleanliness was next to godliness, what better avenue could I achieve both than through bleach? I protected my hands as best I could, remembering the beauty of my mother’s hands, soft and silky, pale and glowing pink.  Her nails were as strong and lustrous as those having been recently manicured. But that was a long time ago, and years of labor have since aged her tapered fingers and tender palms.

By sixteen, I could bus tables, hostess, serve, cocktail, and cook.  I would also moonlight as a housekeeper, a dog-walker, a housesitter, an au pair, a wood-stacker, and a snow-shoveler. I excelled at diplomacy and found myself relied upon to smooth over tensile situations.  If a customer grew upset or impatient, I would smile and say, “Good food takes time!”  Once, when I was a nanny, the lady of the house told me she believed my heartbeat was the only thing that could calm her children and lull them to sleep.

The years passed, measured by the various caregiving jobs I have worked.  Rarely did I question or contemplate my calling.  Things are different now, and I find myself wondering who I am and how I got here. Jon Kabat-Zinn writes, “It may not mean that you will change what you do, but it may mean that you may want to change how you see it or hold it, and perhaps how you do it” (Kabat-Zinn 80).

When I started taking college classes, I felt lost. Even as a child, I had never identified as a student. As a grown woman, I felt like an impostor. My momentum faltered, and my first instinct was to head for the nearest exit. But I called Jon Kabat-Zinn to mind again, and his book “Wherever You Go, There You Are”, and I knew that leaving the campus wouldn’t help me retrieve my sense of direction.

Now I have a clearer understanding of why I panicked. When I’m in the classroom, there is no one for me to take care of, besides myself. That shift in responsibility required me to totally reorient my position in the world. And it was no longer the world as I knew it.  I have found that the education I am receiving does not discredit my work experience, nor my mother’s valuable lessons, but I am not surprised to find myself drawn to the Culinary Arts and Early Childhood Development programs, as both lend themselves to my nature and upbringing.

Sometimes, when I am in class, I look down at my hands. Although I had kept them sacredly protected, I see my years of contribution to the workforce.  I may not have known it at the time, but in each job I did many good and useful things.

I am my mother’s daughter.

~ ~ ~

Heather the night of the reading. When I exclaimed about how much I loved her tights, she said, “I had to bring in the help!”

Heather and The Help.

Heather and The Help.

I have to send huge congratulations out to my student, Marie-Claude Krawczyk, for her award-winning poem “Memories,” in whose reading I also basked in her life story. Thank you to the English Department of SFCC, whose hard work created this opportunity for students gifts to share – Daniel Kilpatric, Julia Deisler, Marci Eannarino, and Kate McCahill. Thank you!

 


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Lifelines—The Fierce Love of Grandmothers

Grammie with Luke, Wynn, and Wyatt, all asleep (2003).

Grammie with sleeping Luke, Wynn, and Wyatt, after checking cows on the ranch (2003).

My mom and I sat curled in the hospital bed, staring down at my oldest child, Wyatt, born just moments before. “I never really knew how to be a mom,” she said, as she gazed at Wyatt’s face, “but a grandmother, this I know how to do.”

IMG_2064

Lucille Clark (age 13). Mom’s maternal grandmother.

What she said made my breath catch in my throat—she was and is a mom extraordinary—this was one of those moments in time that forever shifts our understandings. While I knew that Mom’s own mother had died when Mom was a baby, that was the moment that, like the sun falling just right onto the keyhole into a secret garden, and you look through, just a glimpse, but enough to realize the world beyond, thorns and flowers, the tangled vines, the petals and birds, the secret garden of my mom’s heart to grow up without a mother. My world shifted irrevocably that day—I became a mother and I also leapt that chasm between childhood and adult daughter. And Mom, whose mothering came from her grandmothers during visits, at last entered the relationship she knew how to do – be a grammie.

Mom’s two grandmothers were as different as night and day. Grammie Lucille was all that was soft and gentle. She taught Mom to always set the table beautifully. When the Depression hit and her husband lost his job, Grammie created a hair salon in their front porch and got them through the Depression. The house still stands in Spearfish, South Dakota. Others in the town may call

Grammie and Grampy's House, Spearfish, SD

Grammie and Grampy’s House, Spearfish, SD

it the Dakota Quilt Company, in our family, the house will always be Grammie and Grampy’s house, where I played with my cousin, Janet, named after our grandmother, in the narrow water canal that ran alongside the house. We played amidst the hundreds of flowers that bloomed each spring, bulbs sown by our great-grandmother over decades. The windows in Grammie’s house sparkled, fresh posies of flowers graced the table, and the wood of her shelves gleamed. Grammie honored her family and her life by creating beauty in her and her family’s surroundings.

Grammie Lucille’s daughter, Janet, married a cowboy off the plains who took her to a ranch on the prairie, where she met Mom’s paternal grandmother, Grace. The ranch held none of the softness of the Black Hills, whose trees and mountains provided shelter from the howling winds that ripped across the prairie. For all of Grammie Lucille’s gentility, Grandma Grace was strength, hard work, and determination. Pretty tables didn’t matter so much on the ranch, as whether the food was ready to feed hungry cowboys. “By the time I was 10, I was considered good help to Grandma Grace. We worked from early morning, until after the dishes were cleaned, and put away at night,” Mom said. While Uncle Jim and the ranch foreman, Paul, slept upstairs, Mom shared Grandma Grace’s bed in her room.

Her grandmothers gave Mom the best of themselves. From these two extraordinary and ordinary women, Mom learned gentility with strength, an appreciation of beauty with determination, what it is to create a home for one’s family. Mom experienced the lifeline in the fierce love of a grandmother.

International Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers, photo by Marisol Villanueva

International Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers, photo by Marisol Villanueva

This fierce love of grandmothers transforms our world. Seeing our world in such desperate shape and recognizing their unique power, grandmothers from around the globe rise to heal, counsel, and protect. In 2004, The International Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers from around the world, from Alaska, North, South, and Central America; Africa; and Asia, gathered to create and sign an alliance “to join with all those who honor Creator, and to all who work and pray for our children, for world peace, and for the healing of our Mother Earth.” Their mission states, “We represent a global alliance of prayer, education and healing for our Mother Earth, all Her inhabitants, all the children, and for the next seven generations to come … We look to further our vision through the realization of projects that protect our diverse cultures: lands, medicines, language and ceremonial ways of prayer and through projects that educate and nurture our children.”

A few years ago, the Tewa Women United hosted the International Gathering of Grandmothers in Pojoaque Pueblo, New Mexico. Grandmothers from Tibet, China, South Africa, and around the world brought earth from their homelands. In a symbol of peace, understanding, and healing, the grandmothers mixed the earth from the different homelands together, and then mixed this earth with water and formed balls of earth. Some of these included turquoise for healing. As they mixed the earth and water, the grandmothers infused these earth balls with the hopes, intentions, and the tears of all.

Hole-in-the-Wall, New Dehli

Hole-in-the-Wall, New Dehli

From Indigenous grandmothers to the latest breakthroughs in science and technology, the transformational power of grandmother energy. Sugata Mitra, educational researcher, whose earned his Ph.D in Physics and whose early work focused on the structure of organic molecules has focused his latest work around Hole in the Wall Education. Dr. Mitra noticed that the “gifted” children seemed to be those of upper-middle-class education parents. Pondering this, he took computers to the slums in India and installed them in ‘holes in the wall.’ With access to the internet and motivated by curiosity, these children were soon explaining molecular physics to one another. Further research revealed that among other variables, “Encouragement” was a primary determinant for Mitra’s ‘school in the cloud.’ Who better to encourage than a grandmother? Dr. Mitra returned to his home in England and put an add in the paper for “British grandmothers with broad band and a camera interested in donating one hour a week to help children around the world.” Two hundred responses arrived within the first two weeks. From villages all over England, grandmothers Skype with children 6,000 miles away in the poorest areas of India, encouraging them as they learn. “We call them the Granny cloud,” Mitra said. “If there is a child in trouble, we beam a Gran.” And the children thrive.

To be a grandmother is a way of being, a way of moving through the world. One need not have biological grandchildren to grandmother the world and the world’s children. Some of the most loving, connected, soul-filled grandmothers I know are not related by blood, but those steel strands threading out from the heart to the world. The world desperately needs grandmothers. I have to believe, based not on any scientific study, but rather on every experience with every grandmother I’ve met, that

Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou

grandmothers will not readily send their and others’ grandchildren into war and allow children to go hungry. The body that creates new life and the spirit who nourishes its soul through the years, I believe, will do nearly anything to promote peace, care for one another, and love. Maya Angelou writes, “While I know myself as a creation of God, I am also obligated to realize and remember that everyone else and everything else are also God’s creation.”

This piece joins other writers gathered around an honoring of Grandmothers. As I wrote this morning by candlelight, I thought of all the other writers, around the US and the world, focusing grandmothers and the energy created. Terry Tempest Williams writes, “Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy.  The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.” Let us celebrate grandmothers, celebrate their fierce love, their beauty, their determination—their presence cradles the world.

I give thanks to my own great-grandmothers, Lucille and Grace, for cradling my mom into adulthood, for their ways of beauty, determination, strength, and fierce love passed to her that she now passes to her own grandchildren, and the world. Lifelines. And, so it goes…

To read more pieces honoring grandmothers, click here.

 

(A heartfelt thank you to Frances Salles for inviting me to join this writers’ celebration of grandmothers, to Tara Mohr for this inspired idea and hosting, and to Erwin Rivera, for sharing sacred understandings and his experiences with the International Gathering of Grandmothers in Pojoaque.)

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Photo by Wynn Wink-Moran

Photo by Wynn Wink-Moran

 


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The Nest Behind the Skull

Signs of spring

March 26

On March 26th, our family discovered a bird had built a nest behind the skull next to our front door. This began a time of wait, watch, and wonder for our family. Some of you have shared this experience through photos and my notes, as it unfolded. Here is the journey as a whole.

March 30 – Eggs in the nest behind our skull!

March 30

March 30

March 30 – And then there were three.

March 30

March 30

April 1 – And now, four…

Nest 1

April 1

April 12 – Look who just hatched! I checked this morning and there were four eggs. Came home just now to two baby chicks. I’m thinking we’ll wake up to two more.

Nest 2

April 12

April 13 – And, now there are three. It was fascinating to watch the process of the past two weeks and how the mama bird shifted the eggs around in the nest. When we checked this morning, Noé said, and I’m not making this up, “Oh, they grow up so fast! Look, they already have feathers.”
One lone egg remains, Noé said the other three babies are saying, “Come on in there! Come out!” And the lone little bird in the egg responds back through the shell, “No way. It’s too cold out there!”
Nest 3

April 13

April 14 – Sunday morning and everybody is sleeping in.

Nest 4

April 14

April 18 – Time for breakfast behind the skull.

Nest 5

April 18

April 21 – Babies are now sprouting tiny feathers. I learned they’re called pin feathers. This makes me think of my own nest.

Nest 7

April 21

April 23 – Bellying up to the bar behind the skull.

Nest 8

April 23

April 28 - The birds today. We can imagine it will be long now, before we go out to an empty nest. The front door is open and we hear a chorus of chirping when the mama bird feeds them. 

Nest 11

April 28

April 30 – And then there was one. The other three took flight today. They don’t seem to go far yet and prefer to hang out on a nearby bush. This last one flew a little bit and came back to the nest behind the skull. This week there was quite a bit of discussion about the type of bird, whether house finch or sparrow. After a lively discussion among serious birders, I believe house finch was the consensus.

One

April 30

May 4 – The nest behind the skull sits empty now. When I look closely, I find it woven with strands from our mop, our dog’s hair, and horsehair from the nearby stable.

Nest

May 4

May 4 – The nest stands empty, and we wait …


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Anne Hillerman on Writing and Her Dad, Tony Hillerman

Anne Hillerman surrounded by Fiction Writers

Anne Hillerman surrounded by Fiction Writers

My Fiction Writing class was blessed last week to share our time with Anne Hillerman. Anne talked about her own literary life, and her father, best-selling mystery writer, Tony Hillerman. Author of eight books, Anne’s latest work, Spider Woman’s Daughter follows the adventures of Joe Leaphorn, Jim Chee, and Bernadette Manuelito as they track a would-be cop killer, travel to Chaco Canyon on the trail of a murderer, and discover intrigue in the world of ancient Indian art and artifacts.

You can understand why we were all thrilled to share our time together. With incredible warmth, insight, and humor, Anne shared some of the lens through which she experiences her literary world.

Spider Woman's Daughter

Spider Woman’s Daughter

Anne began by reading two scenes involving the same character, Bernadette Manuelito – one from her father’s The Sinister Pig and another scene from her Spider Woman’s Daughter. The difference in Bernadette’s response and experiences highlights one of the aspects Anne found rewarding about writing this novel, ”What was fun about writing Spider Woman’s Daughter is these two characters, Bernie and Jim, who had always been in Joe’s shadow, now step fully into their own right. Rather than side-kicks, they are multi-dimensional characters who bring out whole other potential in the series and stories.”

Anne shared more about her dad’s relationship with Native Americans.

“My dad had a special relationship with the Native American people. He grew up in a small town in Oklahoma and his family was one of the few Catholic families in town. Those boys were allowed to go to an all-girls Native American Catholic school. This experience had a profound influence on him. He was the only non-Indian and the only boy. As a non-Indian and one of the few boys, it taught him what it was like to be different. He later said that his classmates would forgive him for not being an Indian, but not for being a boy. He served in WWII and watched the different treatment that the Native American veterans received from their tribes when they came home. We didn’t have the language for Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome back then and overall, it was expected that veterans take care of this themselves. Dad watched as tribes received the young men and tried to bring them back into balance, into wholeness, the Navajo idea of  hózhǫ́ beauty, harmony, and interconnectedness with the natural world. He won lots of awards, but he said the one that meant the most to him was the Navajo Tribe’s Special Friends of the Dineh Award.

The land was such a part of my dad’s books. Often, reviewers would be negative about scenes where all of this action was happening and we were about ready to catch the killer and then—everybody had to watch the sunset. These were always reviewers from New York City or Boston or somewhere in the East Coast, places where they couldn’t imagine our skies and our sunsets that literally stop you in your tracks.”

Anne Hillerman

Anne Hillerman

What is your writing schedule? asked a student.

“I have a golden retriver, and she is my alarm clock. First thing in the morning, we walk and then come home and I have a cup of coffee with my husband, Don. I start writing at 9:00 and I try to write until noon. Even if it’s awful. I try to keep the that morning time sacred. If things are going well, I will try to work well. It’s especially important if things aren’t going well, to be in the presence of those characters where something can happen.

Do you do very much research, and if so, what are your methods?

I love research. Sometimes it is so much easier than writing. It’s so easy to be distracted. I am writing the next book and in the part that I’m working on now something bad has happened and they found a necklace. I start to research silver smiths of Navajo silver and then I get pulled into reading about Turkish silver and before I know it, I’m deep into the history of the Ottoman Empire. When there is something that I need to research, I highlight it and leave it alone to keep writing. Then, on those days when things are not going well, I go back to it. The internet is great, but I find there is a lot more juice in actually talking with people. Research is good, but it’s just so tempting. I try to stick with the story and find where the holes are and stick with those.

Could you go over your revising process?

Actually, I love revising. When I start, I re-read the previous two pages. I learned from my dad that the first chapter always changed, as the story evolved, things changed. So, I try to to get stuck on that first chapters. Some people spend twenty years on the first chapter! Just write it and keep going. When I’m done with a piece, I share it with my writing partners, other professional writers who can tell me the truth. They can say, “What were you thinking?” or “You’ve got it.” Each writer has their own quirks. They don’t focus on that. My writing partners focus, for example, on a character who is not fully-developed. Even bad characters need to have something about them that we can connect with somehow. Then, I let it sit for six weeks. And that is so hard! It’s worth it when I go back to it, though, as now I can tell where the writing works and where it is soft.

My dad did a lot of writing in his head. He knew the start he knew the end, he knew the main points. He would think about it a lot, and then sit in front of his typewriter and write what he heard. He would sit playing spider solitaire. Mom would say to me, “Don’t bother your dad, he’s working.” The part of his brain involved in the details of solitaire, playing with plot.

Anne Hillerman, SFCC, Fiction Writing

Anne Hillerman, SFCC, Fiction Writing

In terms of your own writing, what was it like living with a writer, your dad? 

We moved to Santa Fe when I was a young child. When I remember our conversations at the dinner table, it had to do with what he was reading or what my mom was reading, that words are important. He was a journalist then and didn’t have much time. Even though he didn’t have a lot of time, he was already working on his first novel The Blessing Way. I was always interested in writing, but because my dad was so successful, I was determined not to go into the same field. So I took many classes at the University of New Mexico and I had loads credits in all kinds of areas, and I finally needed to decide what was going to be my major. At that point, I decided that even though my dad was a writer, writing is what I really loved to do and I decided to study journalism. Journalism, so I can make a living as a writer. It gives you an excuse to learn about a lot of other things.

Do you enjoy reading what you’ve written?

If it’s good! Sometimes I’m really surprised, and sometimes I just want to crawl in a hole.

What surprised you about writing Spider Woman’s Daughter?

The humor. I didn’t realize this book would have so much humor.

How do you push through those bad writing days?

It’s a special product called butt glue. I tell myself that what I’m writing are only impulses on the screen. It’s only words. I just have to do it. One thing journalism teaches you, you can’t wait for inspiration.

Please tell us more about the Tony Hillerman Writers Conference.

Faculty Badge

Faculty Badge

The Tony Hillerman Writers Conference happens this year November 7-9, 2013. The conference celebrates both the art and craft of writing, as well as all that goes with a publishing life. There will be editors, publishers, and agents. One of the highlights is Friday evening’s “Writing with the Stars.” Writers submit the first page of their manuscripts and an author and agent read on-the-spot and share their thoughts. Dawn will be there presenting.

(Yes, I will. I’m presenting, “Will this Book Ever be Published?” I’m thrilled to contribute to the conference. I may make a pin out of this faculty badge and wear it as a brooch.)

A final question, Do Joe Leaphorn and Bernadette Manuelito stop to watch the sunsets?

Yes, they do.

~ ~ ~

As someone who loves Southwestern sunsets, I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank you, Anne, for taking the time to share your insight, experiences, wisdom, and spirit. A blessed day for us all.

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Dewdrops Quotes

brian_carnation_dewdrops

Dewdrops

The world globes itself in a drop of dew.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson 

A bit of beauty for your day.

I’ve been collecting quotes about dewdrops over the past several months. It’s been a journey in beauty. I find myself reading some of these quotes again and again, and their wisdom very much guides how I feel about our Dewdrops community. I hope you enjoy.

Longfellow dewdrop

Longfellow dewdrop

Every dew-drop and rain-drop had a whole heaven within it.

                                                     ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

When we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.”

                                                      ~ John Muir 

Hubble starburst

Hubble starburst

The dew, “Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.

                                                      ~ Philip James Bailey

And every dewdrop paints a bow.

                                                       ~ Lord Alfred Tennyson

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

                                                      ~ Kahlil Gibran

Drop of dew on a life

Drop of dew on a leaf

Man’s life is like a drop of dew on a leaf.

                                                      ~Socrates

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a life.

                                                     ~Rabindranath Tagore

Dewdrops

Dewdrops

Words are things, and a small drink of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

                                                     ~ Lord Byron

I have learned so much from this wisdom shared.

I also wanted to share with you that I received a surprise email, since the last time I wrote. I belong to a wonderful community Story Circle Network: For Women with Stories to Tell. Story Circle Network wrote to tell me that our Dewdrops community has been selected to be featured in their national eletter and we’ve been selected as a Star Blog. A true honor. I am beyond thrilled. Thank you and thank you, Story Circle Network.

A lovely day to all,

Dawn

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