come hither

I've been problem solving some serious RL issues. There wasn't anything left in my brain between that and work. Yesterday, I got some excellent solutions in place. And last night, my brain played with the penultimate scene in my story. I have some heavy commitments over the next two days but my notebook will be with me. The imagination beckons. What a relief!

Dufferin Islands

I was sitting in the sun, waiting for a good friend and her wonderful husband to stroll through the Autumn leaves. This tiny flower was beneath my hand.

This was my view.

Breathe deep, my friends, the air is restorative.

George

This is a piece of fleece I brought home from Rotmell Farm where Granny was born almost 150 years ago.

He got a bit felted in my luggage so I put him on top of Granny's cabinet filled with yarn. The pictures over him are from the Visitor Center in Dunkeld, just down the road from the farm.

cutwork

I've enjoyed seeing things anew in my home. They're all there because I like them but I don't always see them.

This is one of the end tables. The photo is one of Jon Gustafsson's, the rock is from Iceland and the cloth reminds me of Grandma Fenton's lace work. It isn't hers but I do like it.

I'm a big fan of cutwork.

Whats the story?

My great-uncle (he really was great) made these two boxes. He used them in his workshop. The top one has hinges to hold pages down so they don't get caught when you close the drawers.

Yet, with all the care and precision  that went into the chests, the handles are slapdash. That's not like him at all and I really want to hear that story.

sheep

This arrangement sits on my vanity. The rocks and thistle are from Dunfermline, the sheep is from Edinburgh. He was supposed to be a souvenir toy for Ky but I like him.

Look at that face

Horseman

I've had this guy sitting on my dresser for years. Sadly, his head won't stay on not matter what kind of glue I use. He really is the headless horseman. Ba dum bum.

Imagine my surprise when I went to Scotland, to the home where my great-grandmother was born, and saw a headed copy of my horseman. Freaked me out, but tickled me too.

More often than not he has one of my bracelets  draped around his neck.

Houses

I've kept this picture in my kitchen for years. I used to want to live here.

Now I want to live here

Kyanite

I walk by these three specimens repeatedly throughout the day. This stone is how my dog got his name. His legs reminded me of the black kyanite in the front. The blue is easier to find. The big piece was from a good friend. A Welcome Puppy gift. His grey had a hint of blue when he was young so it was appropriate.

Pretty blue

I walk past this weed every day. It lurks at the edge of the garden and brushes everyone on the sidewalk.  I think it actually helped the tomatoes grow so I don't pull it. It's very pretty. Chickory?

Right in front of our eyes

The biggest note I have on the wip is DETAILS.  All those little things involving the senses that flesh out a story and give insight to a character's emotional, physical, mental state are vital.

It occurred to me this morning that there are hundreds of details right at hand, part of my everyday life, that I ignore or take little notice of.  Every day this week, I'm going to post a picture of something that I either walk by, sit beside, use every day that gets next to no thought from me.  It's my way of remembering to include the details and small touches in the story.

This is the sleeve I put on my cup of tea every morning at work.  I bought it in Whistler in 2010 a few weeks after the Winter Olympics left town.  I likely paid a third of the peak season asking price. It's pretty and I love the swirls of ice from one activity to another.

Change of pace

Two and a half weeks since I lasted posted.  Hard to believe that much time has gone by.  Nothing weird or exciting happened but nothing bad either so that's good.

I spent one long afternoon walking along the Niagara Parkway from Dufferin Islands to the Tesla statue by the Victoria restaurant (or whatever it is called these days).  It was a week day so the tourists were minimal.  The air was crisp and clear, little wind to blow the mist around and the bright sun to dry out the clothes.  There were a few spots I stood where the rush of the river was so loud it drowned out all thoughts.  That alone made the day perfect.

I sat under the tree right here, my favourite tree, and actually wrote for a while.  There were lots of problems with the story but that day I remembered some key elements about my characters.  I let the fresh air and scent of the water fill my soul while my brain absorbed everything around me. I made two pages of notes on the setting.  Silly, really, because this story never goes near the falls but the connection to nature is very strong, elemental.

It is good to take yourself out of the routine, hie off to a change of scenery.  While it might be familiar, you never know what you might find. I found peace, the germ of an idea, and wild yarrow growing at the edge of the falls.