Today I am assigned to paste four pictures of my heroes.
Oprah, Jesse Owens, Spock, and Jimmy Carter
Category Archives: Writing
Barista Tip Jar Wars
This exercise is about maximizing tips by setting up rivalries that will get support from people. I dance Salsa, so the only bar-type environment I’ve ever experienced is Salsa night. Here are some rivalries that might get some people voting with their tips:
On-1 Vs. On-2
Old School Vs. New Guys
Salseros Vs. Bachateros
Live Music Vs. DJ’s
I always tip well, even if all I get is a soda. On each of these, I would put my money in On-1, Old School, Salseros, and DJ’s.
Theft Welding
“Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different. The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different from that from which it was torn.” – T.S. Eliot
I am at my WriteHers’ Group at Monkey Nest in Austin, TX. My exercise for the night is to create captions for circles.
- Moon
- Balance
- Absence
- Charlotte’s pupil
- Mistakes
- Money
- Home
“Art is Theft” – Pablo Picasso
The journal I’m reading highlights the artist’s way of looking at the world as though always “casing the joint”, finding inspiration everywhere, using ideas from unlikely places, and creating new art from all those great ingredients.
Today’s activities ask me to make 8 captions for a triangle. 
- Recycle
- Ancient Egypt
- Mountain climbing
- Black Diamond Ski Trail
- Balance
- Treasure
- Omniscience
- Salt
I’m not sure the real purpose of this exercise, except to maybe get the brain thinking a bit more globally, but there it is. Tomorrow is circles. By the way, I thought of the words, then went and found images for them afterwards. I don’t think it would be cheating, though, to scroll through images for ideas, especially since this whole book is about stealing for artistic use.
Celebrating Success
Ready to celebrate some successes! I finished my creativity course, got married, wrote a novel in the month of November for NanoWrimo, and feel back on track with writing daily.
Today I bought a new journal called The Steal Like An Artist Journal – A Notebook For Creative Kleptomaniacs by Austin Kleon. He opens the book with a quote by Mary Oliver – “I think we’re creative all day long. We have to have an appointment to have that work out on the page. Because the creative part of us gets tired of waiting, or just gets tired.” This sums up my new writing plans perfectly. I am attempting to set aside time daily to work out my creativity on the page. I plan to start sharing some of that experimentation here.
Activity #1 in the journal is Ten Things I Want To Learn:
- …Spanish
- …how to publish an ebook
- …how to format my poetry so it can be published as an ebook
- …everything necessary to get a Master’s Degree
- …everything necessary to get a Doctorate (just because I want to be Dr. Marshall)
- …to Waltz
- …to live a healthy lifestyle so I can maintain an ideal weight, shape, health for me
- …how to exercise without hurting my body
- …how to play 40K without David constantly reminding me of the rules
- …how to make a living as a writer
4 Vacation Days Left
I have thoroughly enjoyed this vacation. I have filled it a bit too full at times, but I made up for that yesterday with two long naps! My creativity course is proceeding splendidly. I am in week 2 and have done all of my writing exercises each and every day. I’m learning a little bit about my own habits and weaknesses that tend to interfere with my time for writing. I am also learning a plethora about my own creative potential and how much untapped awesomeness is contained in this universe. I don’t have to believe that every ounce resides in me, but simply that I can be a channel to get it on paper. I have to develop the willingness to let all that energy and beauty flow through me. Part of the willingness is simply showing up to the page and taking the steps to do the work. I do a ton more daydreaming about writing than actually writing. 🙂
Also, I am very excited to report that my sweet fiance has a three day weekend, which he will be spending with me when he wakes up. He was up during the night with a sick dog. I was no help. I was conked out. The dog and I are fine this morning, but my poor man is exhausted and needs to sleep the morning away.
Super amazing news – I have reached my summertime swimming goal of 60 laps. I’m not resting on my laurels, though. Now I’ve decided to set a new goal of 66 laps because my grandfather figured out that 66 (considering all the measurements of his pool) would equal half a mile. I just like the sound of swimming a nice round half mile.
This has been one of my best vacations ever. I have Salsa’d, written, read, sipped tons of tea, played with my granddaughter, attended support groups, worked on my creativity course, cleaned house making my environment more livable, swam, had outings with friends, gone to the movies, taken myself out to eat, roamed bookstores, and napped to my heart’s content. This is the way to live.
The lady at the front desk – a poem
The lady at the front desk
has an accent I can’t place.
Bright red dyed hair glows
like something radioactive.
She scolds the fact that I am on time;
early is the only acceptable number.
Words spit like machine gun fire –
bullet proof glass protects her from reprisal.
Woman number two attacks, actually
leaves her booth to eviscerate my daughter’s wardrobe.
My glare the only weapon I have;
she knows she has all the power.
Our true crime –
being related to my son.
He awaits our visit behind a clear wall,
his voice distant through the jailhouse phone.
He rolls his eyes as I explain the
reason his sister cannot visit.
Shorts too short, probably influenced
by the blue hair and tattoos.
We talk openly of the evil guards,
hope they’re listening in.
Corruption abounds, secret rules,
a cesspool of human indecency.
We wax simplistic on the meaning of life
and whether or not God sends dreams.
Black holes, the beginning of time,
alternate realities, expansion of the universe.
The mother in me wonders if other mothers
talk of such things when they visit their sons in jail.
A piece of trash sits on the floor
unmoved since my visit last week.
Even the air is oppressive,
cold hard metal the most comfort offered.
Another mother and I
ride the elevator down to the ground.
We talk like old friends of everything
except our sons, guilty with relief of leaving.
The fluorescent red-head plops my license into the metal indention
so no actual human interaction has to occur.
No eye contact, no goodbye, no apology
for making a horrible situation even worse.
The workers look miserable, underpaid, imprisoned
within the same walls as the people they guard.
My daughter posts a selfie as she flips off the jail –
and the women who cannot see her from the safety of outside.
I am irritated by her silent vulgar rebellion,
and maybe a little proud that she is my daughter.
-Rebekah J. Marshall
Summer Vacation!!!
This was how I felt by the last day of summer school — white knuckling it — and so left my room like this:
Ok, maybe not quite that bad, but I certainly did not leave it in any shape for the start of school. I will deal with that when I return for the year. I am on vacation!
A kid asked if I will miss her and I said, “Probably not. I’ll only be gone a week.” She looked a bit wounded, but, come on. I couldn’t muster the energy to come up with a creative response and I don’t lie to my students. I should have said something like, “Probably as much as you’ll miss me,” but my brain was sluggish…due to her and her cronies exhausting me.
My dream goal five years from now is to be able to summer in Colorado or somewhere else cool (literally not hot like Texas.) I will rent a cottage in the mountains and write for three months straight. It will be a true retreat and I will return refreshed, enlightened, and ready to teach because I have truly had a break.
This is a real goal, not a far-fetched pipe dream. I became a teacher so I could read and tell stories all day and have the summers off. I have not had the summer off for the last 14 years. Not cool. I do get to do the story part, though.
For this vacation, I am writing, beginning The Artist’s Way 12 Week Course by Julia Cameron, dancing, swimming, and taking naps every day. So far, my vacation has been a blast and I am appreciating every single second that I am not at work.
HEB Jungle
It has been one week since my pain left my joints. I have finished my cleanse and am now following a strict diet that does not include any inflammation-causing ingredients…mostly consuming fruits, veggies, lean meats, and drinking tons of water. I still walk with a limp, tire easily, get cramps and twinges of discomfort, and have swelling that has not gone away entirely. I am feeling a little more hopeful, though.
The other day I stood up and my hip caught, causing shooting pain all the way to my head. I doubled over on the bed and wept ferociously. All the terror of an impending lifetime of crippling pain overwhelmed me and I just broke down. My poor fiance witnessed my hysteria, tried to console me, and quite heroicly never said another word about it once I was all better. Such a gentleman. I have to accept that it will not be all smooth sailing. I am sure my road to recovery will be arduous and fraught with setbacks, as all roads to recovery seem to be. Why would I expect it to be otherwise? But I can’t give up at each obstacle or I’ll never get to the good stuff.
Yesterday, my daughter left me in charge of my granddaughter in the car while she shopped. She thought we should drive around the parking lot in the air conditioning so I wouldn’t have to walk and we could stay cool in the Texas heat. Instead, we went on an adventure…something I never would have done a week ago. Charlotte and I created a pram out of one of the smaller carts and explored the jungle that is HEB’s outdoor garden center. We touched each and every flower, bush, and plant that looked safe. We wheeled under hanging plants and looked at them from below. We weaved in and out of potted trees and stood underneath giant fans that made the shaded area quite comfortable, despite the 95 degree Texas heat.
We got thirsty and enjoyed refreshments next to a beautiful large-leafed plant that looked very exotic. Charlotte stared at it the entire time she drank her bottle. For the first time in a very long time, I did something that involved walking, entertained my grandbaby successfully, and spent time outside in a nature-like setting. This was big for me. The warmth, good bottle, and spirit of adventure took their toll and left us both quite spent, but it was good fun. Charlotte is a good recovery partner. She does not judge my need for breaks, does not hurry me along, goes right along with my crazy ideas, and takes naps. My kind of girl.
Knock on Wood
I am not superstitious, but I hesitate to write this post the way people are afraid of speaking blessings out loud because the devil might steal them or people knock on wood that they have been spared. Part of me is thrilled. Part of me is scared.
The thrilled part would like to announce that, as of today, I am pain free. Gone is my cane. Gone is my limp. Gone is the agony with every step that dictated all my plans and efforts on a daily basis. I am on day 5 of my cleanse, and as promised, my pain is gone. My healer actually said it might take the full 14 days, but I’m not going to look a gift-horse in the mouth. I am not comfortable, per say, but I am free of pain. What I feel now is weakness in muscles that have not been used properly for far too long. There is also tightness and difficulty with movement in my joints, like they are unaccustomed to moving. Much still needs to be done to recover fully, but to be given a day off from pain. My eyes fill with tears of joy and relief as I write this. I must re-learn to walk properly, use mindful walking, and not overdo it. I must walk before I run, metaphorically speaking…or perhaps quite literally. I never thought I would do either again in this lifetime. I have dreams of running the same as dreams of flying. Both are desires my body has not been capable of lately.
Now the scared part must rear its fearful head. What if this reprieve is temporary? How many days do I have? One, two, a week? What if it is only a side-effect of the cleanse and as soon as that is over my pain returns? Perhaps I will be like Charley in Flowers for Algernon, all too aware of my impending decent back to my normal, which is unacceptable. I want this to be my new normal. I am not able to just stay in the now and appreciate a day free of pain. I want to forecast the future and in the process drive myself crazy. I know I am supposed to stay in the present, focus on the here and now, be content with this moment of pain-free existence that is enveloping me in peace. Perhaps admitting my fear gives it less control over me.
rebekahjmarshall 