Lest We Forget Heaven

The great news is that my poem, Betwixt and Between has just been published at Salomemagazine.com Yea! It is one of the poems I submitted just last week. Isn't that incredible? So shall I send out more poems? Yes!
I wrote a beautiful poem today. It actually made me cry. Never before has something I wrote myself made me cry. Maybe the poem didn't come from me but was inspired from -well, who can say? I began this poem at the funeral of a good friend's father but only liked the first stanza. Today, thinking of a friend who just lost her son I rewrote the rest of it. I hope you like it:

Lest we forget Heaven while on earth,
God brings us death to shorten the path.

Sorrow and grief spilling crazy like weeds,
Tears falling with no rainbow's relief.
It is times like these we look to Heaven,
Calling our love out loud...
Where is he...where is she?
And the only answer received is
Faith in God.

Is faith enough? Will faith laugh with us over dinner
Or give us a goodnight hug?
Will faith tell us secrets so that we relax well loved?
Only time will tell and it will tell it best
Remembering Heaven instead of death.


I suppose that is all I have to say today. I trust it is enough.

Giddy uP and Away we go!

Today I mailed off A Horse of Another Color to a possible publisher! Here is part of the cover letter-

Picture a blue horse on the Kansas prairie in the 1930’s. Can you imagine the colorful adventures he would have? Envision Cecil. He joins a traveling circus with characters named Starlit, Wanderfool, and Lanky Hank. He suffers cruelty at the hands of the ruddy-faced man but escapes in the most ingenious way. He joins an earth colored rainbow band of horses and valiantly leads them out of a dust storm.
A Horse of Another Color (approx. 12,00 words) deals with the developmental, social issues relevant to 7 to 12 year olds in a fun and imaginative way. Cecil learns about prejudice, exploitation, the many faces of love, and what freedom/independence really means. It is the story of a horse who leaves home wanting nothing more than a return to family but finds that life experiences change his vision of what home is.

I do think this book is good and will soon be published. See, this is me practicing the Secret, visualizing success! Yes? And to be most honest I do think Cecil, as I call the ms. will sell. I am not sure when but it is exciting, tight, and well, colorful. It has to become a real book because I know in the deepest, most pointed parts of my soul that it is meant to be read by many.

So to Cecil, giddy up and away we go across the prairie and into the homes of a million good boy and girls. Bad ones, too, I don't care. Nor does Cecil, he is not prejudiced, you see.

Mini Heroines

My Book!

Walk Like a Goddess

The Rabbits are Chortling Again!

Guess what! Today I met with the Market Master at City Market in downtown Kansas City. She looked at all the things I want to sell at the market and okayed them all, even my book, Fantastical tales for the Heroine's Quest. I am so excited!
I plan to set up shop there once or twice a month so that I can stay true to my mission statement of keeping the business fun and organic with the rest of my life. I can hardly wait! I m now inspired to make more things to sell. She loved my mini heroine's. They are adorable. I suppose I should put them on Etsy, too. I have the Heroine of Frightening Beauty, the Heroine of Strange but Likeable Things, and many more. I think I shall make more articulated paper dolls, too. They are much fun. The Market Master also liked my Magic Mushroom bags and Cupcake bags. She seemed impressed by my coloring book Herspectives and Walk Like a Goddess. I am very optimistic about the future.
Today, after the most excellent meeting I went to the Johnson County Library Sale and got this fun book on making puppets for only one dollar! Puppets Around the World (Discover Other Cultures) by Meryl DoneyCan't beat that. I also got
The Midnight Disease: The Drive to Write, Writer's Block, and the Creative Brain by Alice Weaver Flaherty which focuses on compulsive creativity. I read it long ago, borrowed from the library and though I loved it , it was too expensive to buy. I promised myself if I ever saw it on super sale I would get it and here it was for, you guessed it, a dollar!
You, my faithful reader, will also be glad to know I have sent out one short story submission and four poems. The Velvetine rabbits are chortling with delight.

Where Are the Velveteen Rabbits?

"To be creative and magical and to have fun in all parts of my life and especially in giving life to velveteen rabbits (the metaphor I give to my creations). To do this is to brighten my soul's light, growing my soul on earth to more glorify and know God"My new story is to have fun as I take steps, to enjoy the steps and not to be afraid of them. For the steps to be fun they have to grow organically out of the rest of my life. They need to mostly reflect the creative and magical qualities I value. In this way I will create my small business creatively and magically."

Remember this declaration when I first began this blog? I do and that is why that even though this blog is called Creativity Run Amok it may seem to be about everything except for creativity- that is because I have been working in the garden of my life, mucking around in the compost because as I say above- for the steps to be fun they have to grow organically out of the rest of my life. But the garden has grown too quiet with all the velveteen rabbits hiding? Where are they?

Sometimes I have to go find the velveteen rabbits. Other times they clamor to be fed or run around riotously. But lately they have been hiding. I have been worried about them. Are they dead? Do they not like me anymore? Or have I been so neglectful they do not trust me?

I looked last night and found a rabbit cowering in my Word Document file. This rabbit is called Turtle Bones and is a short story that has its good points but is too removed and abstract to be as entertaining as it has potential to be. So I cuddled it, fed it and plan to continue doing so today. I am hopeful we will be good friends again soon.

I have found that I am at times compulsive about creating- that I have made things and written stories and poems out of some desperate attempt to validate my life. That place as it is full of pressure and recriminations yet productive. I want to have the joy I had as a child taking my stenographer's notebook to Central Park in Chanute, Kansas. I think when velveteen rabbits are asked to join me in joy they may not be so hesitant. However, this takes jump starting. I can't wait for the joy but begin creating and the joy will come. Yes?

The Mystery

This weekend The Siblings met to talk about how to proceed with my mother. The plan is for Cheryl and Carl to move in, Mom to sell them the house and use this money to pay for home health care when needed. My oldest brother and I plan to tour Carondolet Manor soon to see if it would be a good place for her way, way down the line. We are excited about Carondolet because when she was a nun she belonged to the Sisters of St. Joseph Carondelet.
She talked of this this weekend. She entered the convent in 1947 right after graduation. She was 17 years old. She wore a red dress with white trim and three white buttons. The style then was above the knees . She wore three inch black heels . She and a couple of other girls who were entering sat on the wall outside the convent each smoking a pack of cigarettes because they knew there would be no smoking once they entered. She hasn't had a cigarette since.
She left the convent several years later when she got in trouble for something that she only vaguely refers to- it is The Mystery. Mother Vivianne asked her what she was going to do about it and Mom answered, "I tell you what I am going to do about it, I'm leaving. Go call my mother to get me." Her mother was overjoyed as she hadn't wanted her to join the Sisters of St. Joseph anyway, throwing herself on the floor of Union station (the train depot) when she left for the convent originally.
Grandma didn't come to get her but sent her a train ticket. Mom had to come home in the same dress she entered in but now the dress styles were the Gibson Girl, hems to the ankle, so here Mom was in a red dress, her head shaved and wearing a coat borrowed from Sister Karen Joseph that was several sizes too small, tottering in her three inch black heels that by this time she was not used to.She was befriended by a soldier on the train who gave her his seat and bought her food to eat. She was very nervous because she hadn't talked to a man for a very long time. She was also very sad because by this time she regretted leaving the convent but she also strongly trusted in the will of God.
But that was all long ago. Long before she met my father and had six kids. Long before she got her nursing degree. Long before she went to Europe or divorced my father.Long before she began to forget.
I hope we like Carondelet because it would be like coming full circle. She said today (and every time I see her at least a dozen times) that she is very frightened she is losing her memories, that she is losing her mind. Today I reminded her that it means just living in the present and that she can trust God. She smiled, nodded her head and agreed this is true.
There may come a day she will forget the convent. There may come a day she forgets me. There may come a day she forgets God. But this does not mean that we weren't all there, are there now and at least one of Us will be there forever.