Monthly Archives: November 2008
I am finding my focus too narrow, projects fall to the wayside, and I need to spurn my growth beyond the lines. Be on the Verge! Stretch past the Contoursof who I am and reach toward who I long to be. Tonight’s project was a regroup. playing with markers I took a look at what I might want to do for the coming months. I am not locking myself into this schedule–it is a guide–an inspiration. Tomorrow I might do a word bubble.
It was so good to have a whole day off work. To watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade brought a bit of melancholy as I remember the excitement my children had as they watched each year. Traditions have gotten a bit lost.
To keep upbeat, I worked on my new blog A Winter Journal, Notes from the Upper Peninsula. I made a post and then added webcams links and other links to help people understand the wintry place in which I live. I am going to like this blog, especially once I catch a sunny day to take photos on, or a day when I have freedom while the sun shines (seems I am working more than usual).
I am also starting research for an article on Seasonal Affective Disorder. I am going to focus on natural and organic approaches to fight the affects of S.A.D., perhaps looking at diet adaptations in societies that function in low light for extended periods of the year.
As artists and writers, how do you motivate yourself in winter? During the Holidays?
It’s all very strange, each year I get a bit older. I end up working with women who were once in my Junior Girl Scout Troop or working along side students I have had in class. This January I will be forty-five years old. I am a mother of three wonderful adult children and grandmother to two.
I live my life very open and it sounds cliché but I tell everyone I am an open book, everyone knows my life. But, I am becoming more cognizant of the secrets I do have. There are simple statements of joy that I repress as they may cause others pain. So in the respect of those people I keep silent.
That silence reminds me of the days of abuse. My life prior to becoming an adult was a life of fear. I was a runaway to avoid my own home. I did not tell teachers, law enforcement, or counselors of that abuse until I was safely beyond the abuse. I dealt with the truths of my childhood years later after having children of my own.
So, yesterday, I was asked where a woman could turn to for help–No insurance–Not on welfare–But in need of counseling. I thought of the weekly headlines announcing cuts to mental health services in Marquette and Alger County and I knew that odds of finding services were very slim. I had to give some hope so I suggested the Women’s Center.
As my hands age, lines become deeper. As my hair grays, and wrinkles around my eyes fan out, they suggest wisdom. As I enter the next phase of my life, I am getting more outspoken of secrets. I don’t want to live contrary to my own cliché, “My life is an open book.”
This has been a year of taking photos, and in many ways photography is easier as my writing has always been a bit autobiographical whether poetry, fiction, or memoir. Even non-fiction articles have a strong “I voice.” The words that would rise to the surface felt like words I could not say, write, or share. I avoided my writing. I picked up a camera.
In the coming year I will write more. It is not that I regret picking up a camera-I love digital photography and I will be pursuing that strongly, too. But it is time to return to the page.
The path that led me to Mike, well I never knew that there was this path.
I remember being alone, hurt. My nest empty of children. I was injured in an accident. On the outside, I was spontaneous, full of hope, smiling. On the inside, I was afraid of being alone.
But one day I look up and there was this path, and over the years many paths. I look ahead and I see Mike. Here he is again on a path to the beach. Magic.
I look up and there he is, again, and again.
I am grateful. I am filling with hope, again, and again.
The flu got my goose on this trip. Mike and I were driving down the highway when I saw many flocks on different flight paths, finally the flocks joined together and headed in one direction. I said, “Mike! Look at the Canadian Ducks.” Well, you know, when you’re not feeling well the brain finds it’s own flight path, my neuro-pathways were miss-wired and geese became ducks. So for the trip we joked about all the ducks we came across. Duck, Duck, Got your Goose. Run with it (wink).
These Canadian Ducks are at the Illinois State Beach picnic area (south).
As Mike and I headed back to the North Country we stopped at Illinois Beach State Park. It was a cold gray morning. The only thing missing was snow, and there would be plenty of that once we were back in the Upper Peninsula. Our trip had been full of wind and cold despite being over 300 miles south of home.
The day looked like the sun was just rising, but the day was heading toward noon (Eastern Time). These clouds speak of Lake Effect snow perhaps on the Chicago shore. At times we could see a very faint Chicago skyline.
This is the Zion Nuclear Power Station on the North side of the beach. There is more of the state park on the other side of this facility–we could not find the road to it. The plant has been retired, but dismantling will wait for the future when things are “safe.” It is interesting to read the info at wikipedia.
I had the flu on our trip. The morning we woke for Terry’s gradaution from boot camp had us running to the Walgreens across the street from our hotel. In this area of Illinois we found many Walgreens conveniently placed, everywhere. Needless to say, our time on the cold wind swept beach was short as I had been running a temp for two days.
Taken after graduation ceremonies at Great Lakes Naval Station (Friday, November 21, 2008) Airman Recruit Terry Hainstock and Father walk through Lincoln Park Zoo at sunset.
This photo was published in the Schmap Chicago Sixth Edition–Lincoln Park.