Month: April 2012

Maurice Sendak on Melville and Diving

/ Tracy Abell

  

Herman Melville was always using the image of the artist as diver. 
He loved that word. Having to dive from some height, meaning, of
course, taking a serious risk. Because if you dive and you're lucky,
you'll come up with gold from the bottom of yourself. You dive deep
into the self. But you can also drown, you can smash your head upon
the rocks — there are terrible risks in diving from a great height. But
if you didn't dive, then you were not an artist in his terms. Without
risk you were just a middle-of-the-road type guy. 
               
                  ~ Maurice Sendak from Writers Dreaming by Naomi Epel

I'm afraid of heights
and sometimes I'm afraid to dive deep into myself.
However, I never want to be a middle-of-the-road type guy.

Inviting all my creative friends to join me in taking the plunge 
today and every day.

                   

Hawk Watch

/ Tracy Abell

Know what I’ve been doing?
Watching a pair of Red-Tailed Hawks in Ithaca, New York.
Wait, Tracy. I thought you were in Colorado.
That’s true, but the Cornell Lab of Ornithology has a nest cam on a light pole
about the athletic field where this pair has nested for at least the last four years.
And I’m watching.
(Wildebeest and Zebu think it’s a bit creepy to spy on birds without
their consent and I agree somewhat, but my curiosity wins out).

This is the female (designated Big Red) during her nest shift:

Here is what’s underneath: the first hawklet that hatched early yesterday morning
and the two pipped eggs:

I’m including this second screen save because right then I saw movement in the egg on the left and the already-born hawklet was leaning in and chirping, as if offering encouragement. (I know . . . anthropomorphism alert!)

(Also, I believe that red mass in the upper right is the remains of a pigeon.
Hawks are birds of prey, after all. Apologies for the graphic image but I’m just
learning how to do screen saves and that image was “grabbed” with everything else).

As I mentioned to a friend yesterday I thought my birthing experiences were hard
work (and they were), but I was never rained and snowed upon or worried about
attacks from owls or had to deal with one newborn while two others struggled to hatch.

Whew.

One more shot of the ever-vigilant mama:

(Warning: I’m sure I’ll be back with more shots of the next hawklet . . .)
EDITED TO ADD:

Here’s an exhausted hawklet #2 leaning against third egg in process of hatching:

Here are both hawklets while #1 gets fed:

And one more, just because:

Remembering Levon Helm

/ Tracy Abell

I grew up listening to The Band.
My parents had one of those huge cabinet stereos
that they’d hooked up to our intercom system
so music played throughout the house.

I washed dishes to The Band,
tanned outside on the deck,
lemon-oiled paneling and washed windows to their music.
I spent hours in my room, studying the album covers and liner notes
as I listened to the stories-in-songs they sang while trading verses and
marveled at the many instruments they played and the sounds they created.

These were the soundtracks for much of my childhood:

   
   

Rick Danko
Levon Helm
Garth Hudson
Richard Manuel
Robbie Robertson

I knew their names and faces.
And I loved them even more when I found out they’d been
Bob Dylan’s back-up band before becoming The Band.
(Dylan painted the cover art for Music From Big Pink)

I spent my fourteenth birthday at home during a snowstorm
in Wisconsin while they played their very last concert together
in San Francisco. I was heartbroken I couldn’t be there with them
and their many friends: Bob Dylan (see#23), Joni Mitchell, The Staples,
Neil Young, EmmyLou Harris, etc.  But I’ve watched that concert
“rockumentary” (see #24), many times since.

In the spring of 1985, Rick Danko, Garth Hudson, and Richard Manuel
played a small club somewhere in the San Fernando Valley.
My friend, Scott E., and I went, lining up at the door well before the show
so we’d get good seats. We were front row. No Levon and no Robbie, but it
was still remarkable basking in the music and memories.

Richard died the following spring.
Rick died in 1999.
And today, we lost Levon Helm.

Levon was the drummer but he also sang some of their most famous songs.
The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down and Up On Cripple Creek. And not-so-
famous Ophelia. When I was pregnant, I made a mix tape of songs for my labor soundtrack. I wanted music so familiar to me I wouldn’t need to expend any energy on
thinking or processing the songs. I wanted to be able to sing every single word
without hesitation. The Weight was one such song.

But right now, as I mourn the passing of yet another member of The Band,
I offer you Levon singing All La Glory.

Thank you for all the beautiful music, Levon.
Wherever you are, I hope you’re still smiling and laying down the beat.

This Writer’s View

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

Last fall I started using a treadmill desk
but have since stopped walking and writing
due to vision issues.

However, I still use that desk to stand while writing
after coming to the realization my body feels icky-numb
whenever I sit for long periods of time.

This is my writing desk at the window:

This is part of my view:

Along with plenty of fox, coyote, hawk, deer, etc. sightings in the open space, I also witness human interactions because of the many people who walk dogs, teach kids to ride bikes, jog, etc. on the path.

Here’s a man and dog I’ve seen before:

The dog has three legs and shaved fur around the neck/chest area, indicating a recent medical procedure. S/he moves well, hopping along with tail held high. The man is kind and patient, frequently reaching down to pet the dog. Today he waited as she rolled on her back in the grass, kicking her legs in the air. One day last week I had tears in my eyes as they headed home and the dog stopped to rest beneath a flowering crab apple tree. The man stood by for about five minutes, waiting patiently for her to gather the strength to continue. Throughout, he talked and petted his canine friend.

I am grateful for a view of the world that includes both natural wonders and people-powered dramas. Sometimes I do more watching than writing, but I believe these mental snapshots will someday make their way into my stories.

Friday Five: The Taking Flight Edition

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

             

I'm noticing lots of amorous behavior from the male doves in the neighborhood
and admit to chuckling at the way they follow the reluctant females from limb to
limb, wire to wire, hoping for attention.


© Tracy Abell and Zippy 2012

The females will put up with that behavior for only so long before taking wing.

                   

Self-Exposure

/ Tracy Abell / 11 Comments

Creative writing is a harrowing business, a terrifying commitment
to an absolute. This is it, the writer must say to himself, and I must
stand or fall upon what I have put down. The degree of self-exposure
is crucifying. And doubt is a constant companion. What if I am not as
good as I thought? is a question that always nags, and can cripple.
~ Walter Kerr


image from morguefile.com

Today I’m struggling to stand upon the words I’ve put down.
Begone, doubt!