Recently, I set myself the task to write a story about the accompanying photo in fifty words. Turns out, the story ended at forty-nine words (the title “Look” is included in the word count.) It is intriguing to give yourself a word limit for a piece, then stick with it. During the process, all becomes distilled; thoughts and words. Look November. Northern Plains of Montana. Winter’s stalk, damascus-sharp, and dismal edged penetrates the air. The scent, a raw mainline of dead leaves. I take a picture of skeleton trees, the gilt glow of grasses and sage against the amber light…
Category: Creativity
Glimpses of Jenny's Writing I
Going on behind the scene of Earthwise and the Alabaster Horse, I write essays. I am building my collection so that I can someday turn them into a book. Occasionally, an essay appears as a blog post in a shorter, condensed version. To give my readers an additional taste of the words I write, from time to time I will include excerpts of essays here as well. The following passages are from my essay “Across the Way.” This essay arose from the photo below I took one unseasonably warm 50 degree January day in north central Montana, as I was…
Here We Go!
I am back. A long time away from this space, I know. It seems like my blog follows the arc of the year; active in spring, summer and fall, then hibernates over the winter. Now it is time to emerge and stretch upward in the ever-strengthening sunlight. My Lusitano, Evaristo, and I Even though the blog has been in hibernation for some months, it has been much in my thoughts. I’ve been thinking and doing some work on its evolution, how to move it in a direction that feels sustainable for me. Too, I wish to make it a space…
Books & Words II
Childhood Unboxed My left hand held a small leather bound book open across my knee as my pencil transcribed thoughts in fuzzy grey marks. Rustle, rustle, rustle. The pencil spoke to the paper as it skipped along. Not having much choice, the paper agreed to the pencil’s rhetoric. The paper, off-white and lined, fluttered in the breeze. My left hand clamped it down so the pencil could finish a word. I sat on a sun-warmed, charcoal grey, lichen spotted rock on a steep hillside. The hillside was dotted with juniper trees. Bluebirds flitted amongst them. Late afternoon sunlight slanted through…
Books & Words I
My left hand held a small leather bound book open across my knees as my pencil transcribed thoughts in fuzzy grey marks. Rustle, rustle, rustle. The pencil spoke to the paper as it skipped along. Not having much choice, the paper agreed to the pencil’s rhetoric. The paper, off-white and lined, fluttered in the breeze. My left hand clamped it down so the pencil could finish a word. I sat on a sun-warmed, charcoal grey, lichen spotted rock on a steep hillside. The hillside was dotted with juniper trees. Bluebirds flitted amongst them. Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees…
Creativity & New Energy
During some introspective times of late, I have come to a couple of conclusions: 1) I want to awaken this blog; 2) I would like to invite you, my patient readers, into my life farther; 3) say “thank you!!” for taking the time to click on my blog link and perhaps read an essay or two; 4) compose more and shorter posts about my life, those I share it with, what I am learning and experiencing, books I am reading, blogs I follow and find of interest, and anything else that strikes me to include here. So. Now I’ve said…