Thankful Thursday: The I-Didn’t-Procrastinate-(Much) Edition

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I’ve started working again on a project that I put on hold in 2012 because I didn’t feel equipped to do it justice. I’m still not insanely confident about my abilities (after all, I am a writer), but I’m pushing ahead.

Last night my Writing Roosters critique group got together, and one of the members spoke of her current process as she drafts another book in a series. She said that for her, outlining and research could turn into a form of procrastination, and that it was important to just get writing and trust that that other stuff will sort itself out along the way. I realize that isn’t a new concept, but it was one of those right-comments-at-the-right time things, and it went ping in my brain.

That’s exactly where I’ve been with this project; reacquainting myself with the characters and plot, doing more and more research. Thinking I had to get most every detail nailed down. Obviously, that’s false. Because as it says in STOP THAT BALL! : Could this go on all day and night? It could, you know, and it just might.

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One of the best read-alouds EVER!

So today I stepped away from the outlining and research rabbit holes, and started writing. I didn’t get a whole lot of words down, but I accomplished more than page numbers.

Take that, Steven Wright!

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Denver represents!

Marched this morning with a couple hundred thousand other people. The day started out cold and overcast (really appreciated the ride downtown on the packed-to-the-gills light rail because all that body heat warmed me up again) before turning sunny and warmer. It was a good morning, and I’m glad my neighbor friend, Kim, invited me to march with her. I brought my camera and captured some of the wit and wisdom of the very large gathering. (Click to enlarge)

carrie-fisher-sent-me    princess-leia    gaslighting

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introverts    noriega

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feminist-as-fuck

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In case you missed it the first time.

Maybe someone can help me out here. My Spanish is rusty and the online translator came back with "They wanted to enter us but they did not know that we were seeds."

“They tried to bury us. They did not know that we were seeds.” (h/t and thanks to Jenn Hubbard for translation)

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Construction workers above the march.

Construction workers above the march.

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And here’s me with my sign:

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Finally, here’s an overhead shot of Civic Center Park in Denver:

DENVER, CO - January 21: Tens of thousands in Civic Center Park for the Women's March on Denver January 21, 2017. (Photo by Andy Cross/The Denver Post)

DENVER, CO – January 21: Tens of thousands in Civic Center Park for the Women’s March on Denver January 21, 2017. (Photo by Andy Cross/The Denver Post)

Kim and I left the march before it reached the park so you won’t be able to find us in this crowd. Turning around was a good call, though, because as we “swam” downstream, we got a good look at THE MANY MANY PEOPLE. It was life-affirming to read the signs screaming with anger, hope, and humor.

We’re gonna need all three to make it out alive.

 

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Twofer Tuesday: lounge lizards

marcel-and-loki

Marcel up top, watching me closely while Loki, down below, does his best impression of a narcoleptic. A much better photographer than me would be able to balance the harsh sunlight with the white fur and black fur. Makes me long for the days in the darkroom when I could dodge and burn the image. But because I should be working on my writing project rather than messing with this, I’ll let it go.

Apologies for the glare. (HA! I made a pun.)

 

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Amelia, is that you?

This morning I took my exercise and yoga routine to the basement in order to escape the cacophonous roofers. As I did a quad stretch next to the support post, something caught my eye:
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AE?
My first thought was that those initials were etched by Alex E., one of Zebu’s best friends throughout childhood. But then it hit me: Amelia Earhart!

Because look what else I found just inches from those inititals:
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That’s clearly either a flight route or maybe even a rough sketch of Howland Island where Amelia was headed on that fateful flight. Do you know what this means? I’ve uncovered a clue that could help solve the mystery of Amelia Earhart’s disappearance!

Wow! Who knew what was in store when I woke up this morning?!

(Okay, okay. Cut me some slack. I’m suffering the effects of WAY too much loud noise. The hammers are echoing in my head.)

 

 

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Punching is for expression

GET FUZZY by Darby Conley
Get Fuzzy on writing as expression

This old Get Fuzzy strip does not represent any personal animosity toward poets.
Rather, it’s more a statement on my current state of mind.
Specifically, my desire to punch something.
Although, stabbing would be equally therapeutic.

As Zebu would say, “Mom’s feeling a little stabby today.”

“Stabby and punchy.”
That’s me.

Shouldn’t there be a t-shirt or bumpersticker?

 

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Karl Pilkington for the assist

For much of yesterday and today, it’s felt as if a railroad spike had been driven into my left eye.
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I’m tired and nauseated and sick of just about everything right now, and thought I’d post a quick spike image that might convey those feelings. But then I came across this quotation:

The other day I was thinking – because I get a lot of headaches – I was wondering whether the head should be where it is. Because, at the end of the day, it’s probably the heaviest part of your body, right? And yet it’s at the top as opposed to, I don’t, dangling at the bottom somewhere.    ~  Karl Pilkington

And now I’m laughing and feeling a tiny bit better. Karl Pilkington saves the day yet again!
karl pilkington

Thanks, Karl!
P.S. I thoroughly enjoyed THE WORLD ACCORDING TO KARL PILKINGTON