The Way I Was: How Memory Can Serve Your Art

Memory... is the diary that we all carry about with us. 
~ Oscar Wilde

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logHer is hosting their NaBloPoMo this month ~ which for the life of me I can’t find what it stands for, but has something to do with blogging every day ~ a feat that would be the death of me.  Once a year in May with Michelle Rafter’s Blogathon is enough! 

Anyhoo, they have great prompts for blocked writers like me.  Today’s has to do with memory:

Wordsworth called memory the "inward eye."  Are your memories more sight-based, or do they concern sound, taste, touch, or smell?

As I’ve mentioned before, some memories are triggered by smells, or tastes.  But when I read this question, I took it to mean that when the memory is re-lived, do you then smell those cookies baking, or hear your mother humming, or touch the softness of your favorite dog’s fur?

The Rorschach of My Mind

Pandora’s box has nothing on my hippocampus and medial temporal lobes.

I dream and re-live memories in colour and with real emotion. Monet and Freud would have killed to be in my head.  In fact, my dreams are so vivid and seem so real, that if something tragic or sad happens in my dreams, I wake up crying.  And the same goes for memories; although sadly, the strongest ones are times when I’ve been hurt by someone or experienced a frightening situation.  I remember, and my body goes into flight or fight mode all over again.

Perhaps the increased adrenaline experienced during those times makes the memories “stick” out more.  Although I have to admit, there are some memories that I can recall easily because of the copious amount of endorphins that were coursing through my system.  Whatever it is, I have my own personal Xbox

in my mind.

So why is this important for writers (or any other artist)? 

Raiding the Mental Scrapbook

This “realness” that I experience when dreaming or accessing memories has the potential to translate into plots that are more believable, essays that are hard-hitting, and poems that make the reader think and emote with me.

If I don’t believe it, you won’t either.

On the other hand, if there is too much “me” in the resulting story, then you won’t be able to take it in and make it your own.  Instead, you’ll read it and think, “Gee, it’s terrible what happened to her!”  or “What a wonderful surprise for her!”  Whereas I want you to feel the emotion I’m conveying as if it were your own memory, your own dream.

The Muggle’s Penseive

Remember how memories worked in Harry Potter?  They were captured and stored in a penseive (ha ha) where one could later step into the memory and re-live it.  Ahh, if only that were possible.  Oh wait.  It is!

It’s called a journal. 

It can be made of paper, parchment, or digital files. Words on a page, images on a screen, or voices on a file.  Catch the emotion on the fly.  Set the record straight today.  Draw from it to create a new tomorrow.  Keep it to remember who you were, where you’ve been, and how you got here.

And take us along for the ride.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

What about you?  Are your memories sight-based, or do they concern sound, taste, touch, or smell?

Top Five Friday: Impressed with Impressionism

When my daughter was about seven years old, she asked me one day what I did at work. 
I told her I worked at the college - that my job was to teach people how to draw. 
She stared at me, incredulous, and said, "You mean they forget?"
~ Howard Ikemoto

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s I mentioned some posts back, I recently took up art therapy to expand my creative horizons.  It was an interesting exercise ~ painting not being one of my artistic strengths.  But I found that I enjoyed the feel of the brush in my hand, and the swirl of colours on the canvas.  And it opened up rooms in my soul that I had forgotten were there.

We focused mostly on abstract art and impressionism.  I always saw impressionism as looking at a painting through near-sighted eyes.  But I never appreciated how Monet, Hassam, and others focused on the play of light in their paintings.  Nor how much detail there really is when you take a close look.

These are my favorite five Impressionist paintings.

Oat and Poppy Field – Claude Monet

This painting reminded me of the meadow behind my house ~ only it has cows in it and not poppies!  But the play of light on the trees, turning them into dark green giants is familiar to me. As is the perspective and the lay of the land.  Perhaps that is why I love this painting so much ~ it feels like home.

 

Celia Thaxton’s Garden – Childe Hassam

The bright colours of the flowers in the foreground pull you in to this painting.  And it too has an air of familiarity ~ but it’s the familiarity of a well-beloved book.  Doesn’t it remind you of Anne of Green Gables?

 Quiet – James Tissot

For this one, I just love the saturated colours ~ especially of the woman’s dress.  No, seriously, I want a dress like that.  And a couch like that!

The Swing – Auguste Renoir

I actually favor Renoir’s later paintings (Girls at a Piano, for instance), but this one is a good example of how impressionism focuses on light and its effects on objects seen.  I can fell the shade and the sunlight filtering through the trees.

Late Sunset – George Inness

Again, saturated colours, the play of light ~ in this case, fading light, and a long perspective.  I wish I could step into the painting and exlpore what lies just beyond those trees.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

Who are your favorite Impressionist painters?

La Belle's Hobby Farm: A Pictorial Tour of My Garden

What a man needs in gardening is a cast-iron back, with a hinge in it. 
~ Charles Dudley Warner

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nd mine is still healing.  Although not fast enough to suit me ~ I have weeds to pull, soil to amend, and tomatoes to pick.

Finally!

And I have discovered that it’s true: good things come to those who wait.  The flavor of my tommy toes is summertime distilled. The large ones still haven’t ripened yet, but the cherry tomatoes are popping up red and golden yellow every day now.  Next year, I’ll remember to tag them, because now I can’t remember what varieties I have!

Since most of you aren’t able to visit my garden in person, here is a pictorial tour.



Marigolds.  Great for keeping away pests.




One lone pink hydrangea. I think the heat burned the rest of the blooms.




And one lone purple hydrangea...




...and one blue bloom.




Tommy Toes!





My lovely Tia, guarding my basil plants with a new web.



 Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

How is your garden growing?

Top Five Friday: Hereeeeee's Tommy Toes!

Tomatoes are lusty enough, yet there runs through tomatoes an undercurrent of frivolity.
~ Tom Robbins

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ll this talk of tomatoes is making me hungry.  What’s that? 

Oh.

We weren’t talking about tomatoes?  Well, I sure have been thinking about them!  Between pulling up weeds from around them, to falling on my acreage in front of them, to picking my very first one.  And still the majority haven’t ripened yet!



Argh!

Well, I’m sure you have been gathering your harvest up every week ~ if not from your backyard, then hopefully from your local farmers’ market.  And since summer is fast drawing to a close (where the heck did it go!?), I thought you might like to add some new recipes starring your favorite tommy toes. 



Tommy is coming along nicely.  If only he'd turn red!
Photo copyright M. D'Eigh



Texas Toast Tomato Sandwiches – Southern Living

The best tomato sandwich will always be two slices of toasted white bread, one slice of cheese, a huge dollop of mayo, and a fat slice of tomato.  It screams sum-sum-summertime.  Now I use gluten free bread, Daiya “cheese”, mustard, and a fat slice of tomato.  And I still feel the summer wind, come blowin’ in, across the sea…

Sorry, got carried away by a memory. Where was I?

Oh yes!  This recipe is the humble tomato sandwich taken to Texas heights.  You can still use gluten-free bread ~ I won’t tell anyone.

“Roasted” Tomato Basil Soup - Rawmazing

I love this woman.  She makes raw simply “raw-some.”  And makes this foodie feel right at home.  While I may miss many things when I try to live an 80% raw lifestyle, I don’t miss taste.  And this soup is just what the weather man ordered for a hot day.

Plus, I get to trim my basil trees.



My first ripe tomato!  Well, almost...



Zucchini Ribbons with Raw Tomato Marinara – Food and Wine

Pasta can be so heavy, especially when it’s hot outside.  You just want to take a long nap afterwards.  How do the Italians do it!?  Wait.  They take a long nap afterwards.  Ahhhhh!

Anyhoo, this “pasta” is a veggie, so no food como side effects.  Heavenly with a light white wine.

Roasted Tomato Tart - Gourmet

This one is a keeper for gluten addicts.  The recipe doesn’t include it, but I’ve found that frozen puff pastry is too young to leave it out on its own – layer it with butter or better yet, lard.  Otherwise, it gets dry and cranky and rebellious.



Spicy Flame-Grilled Tomato Bloody Marys – Mother Earth News

Summer isn’t complete without at least one fresh-made Bloody Mary.  I like mine without a whole lot of hot sauce.  



 Sigh.  There's always fried green tomatoes....



One thing only I ask of you – do not put canned tomato juice in this one.  Juice your own.  So much better. Look Mom! No MSG or toxins in my blood! Yay!

Y’all be safe out there this holiday weekend.  Enjoy the last long weekend of summer!  

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

What are your favorite tomato recipes?  And what are your favorite varieties?

La Belle's Hobby Farm: The Bloodythirsty Gardener (Or How I Hurt My Back)

Don't eat me. I am an inchworm. I am useful. I measure things.
~ Leo Lionni

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erhaps that is true of the inchworm, but not so for tomato hornworms.  The big green nasties hide underneath poor tommy toes leaves and chomp, chomp away!  I was hoping he would pass my wee garden by, but alas!  While I took my early morning garden stroll on Sunday, I saw through his (or her) disguise!

I am Manduca Sexta - hear me chomp through your tommy toes!

A little research showed that Manduca quinquemaculata was innocent of veggie-cide; it was actually his cousin, Manduca sexta, alias tobacco hornworm.  Although much good mistaken identity did my tomato plants.  Those bad boys aren’t as selective as one would think about the vegetation they consume.

I tried scolding, I tried poking but he was having none of it.  His buffet was not to be interrupted.  Squashing was not an option ~ gardener I may be, but a girlie girl I am to the core and squashing anything living is just. . . .ewwwwww!

As an organic gardener, not using poison is also a no-brainer.  Actually, that is bass-ackwards: it should be that using poison is a no-brainer, because people with no brains use it.  Who wants to eat poison through their food, even if it’s residual poison?!

So how to get rid of the plant murderer?

The Sustainable Executioner

The answer (I thought) was on the plant next door, the garden-hood watch, so to speak.  Since she moved to her digs, Tia has been catching aphids and growing huge!  It’s either her increased diet or she’s preggers.   Which would be very cool!

I looked at Duca S and Tia and realized that by the time he made it anywhere near her place, he would have eaten a good many leaves.  And this criminal activity could not be allowed to continue.  So I helped.

Tia is a beloved member of the garden-hood watch, but webs still freak me out.  I think it was that Sinbad movie I saw when I was 7.  And Shelob didn’t help my phobia either.  I picked up a dead leaf and pushed him on. 

His body was baby-skin soft.  I felt like I was the criminal for a moment.  After all, wasn’t I killing a butterfly before it had a chance to sow its wild oats? (My later research said no, left to their own devices hornworms turn into moths – large and interesting, but not pretty butterflies.)

It took some odd maneuvering, but I finally got the leaf onto to the far side of Tia’s web.  Then I crouched down and waited for the show to begin.

Just call me the Bloodthirsty Gardener.

If I had been watching this on NatGeoWild and it were lions and antelope, or wolves and reindeer, I would have shivered and cried at nature’s cruel but effective means of culling the herd.  But somehow, insects just fascinate the scientific side of my brain ~ except of course for dragonflies and butterflies.

Tia took her time, but finally the rocking of the web drew her attention and she raced up and her long legs began feeling Duca S’s big long body.  And then something happened I could barely believe.  Duca S reared up and used his big head like an arm and hit at Tia!

Breakfast was putting up a fight!

Boy, do I know what that’ s like: acid reflux!  However, my food is not normally alive by then!  Tia waved her legs over him for a few more seconds, trying to get in her spider-novacaine, but finally had to retreat defeated and hungry. 

All this was new to me, so I wanted to get a better look and see where this story was headed.  And promptly fell with all my weight onto a leftover 2x6.

Which is how I ended up spending two days flat on my back, nursing some very bruised glute bones and a sore spine. 

I don’t know what happened to Duca S ~ I’m sure he crawled off none the worse for wear and began munching on my plants again.  As for me, my days as a fight promoter are over.  I’m just going to let nature take its course.

Unless I start squashing.

Ewww!

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

What pests are eating your garden and how are you dealing with them?  Don’t get hurt out there!

On the Road to Recovery: Or Why You Haven't Heard From Me

It is in human nature to relax, when not compelled by personal advantage or disadvantage.
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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r when one is flat on one’s back

Wretched writer, leaving my dear reader friends alone both Friday and Monday with nary a word!

Rude, I say!

Such it is in the age of instant messaging, tweets, etc.  However, it was not for lack of wanting, but for lack of both cell service [which runs my home internet] and general physical equilibrium.

Thursday and Friday I wrestled with some demon food that held me up in knots.  I finally calmed the monster down with some medication.  But by then it was Saturday morning.

Blight it!*

Then Sunday, I fell in the garden [yes that garden!] and brusied by back and few other choice bones and was, literally, flat on my back [and a heating pad] until this morning.

I’m still sore and still a little cranky for having lost four good days to do something creative or useful.  But glad to be on the road to recovery.  I promise a full report tomorrow, on Hobby Farm day, as the agony and the fury happened there.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

*One of the things I did do over these past four days is read Lois McMaster Bujold’s Knife Sharing series.  If you like fantasy stories with a whisper nod to the Shire, take up and read.  I couldn’t put them down!  One of her main characters loves to say "Blight!" A lot.

La Belle's Hobby Farm: The Garden of Fall Eatin'

You can never have enough garlic.
With enough garlic, you can eat The New York Times.

~ Morley Safer

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ifficult to believe that it is almost September.  Where did the summer go!?

Not that I’m complaining.  Autumn is my favorite time of year and I wait for that gloriously ochre-coloured season with as much patience as a kid waits for Santa on Christmas Eve.

But time enough to enjoy shorter days, cooler nights, and the promise of pumpkins and firelight.  As a gardener who planted late, I’m focused on harvesting my tommy toes in the next couple of weeks.  They’re still going strong and growing up before my very eyes.  I just hope the deer or squirrels don't get to them before I do! 

Aphids and other winged thieves will no longer be an issue: Tia moved her web to the middle of the tomato plants and has put by a huge feast for herself.  I’m thrilled.  I was worried she wasn’t catching anything over on the skunk cabbage (don’t ask). 

The Garden of Fall Eatin’

Now is the time to start planning the fall garden.  Thank heaven for living in Zone 7!  I need to plan and order my Autumn newbies quick ~ the time to plant will be here before I know it.  Here’s my list so far: 

Cabbage (Red)

Collards

Garlic

Kale

Perennial Onions
Spinach

Garlic is one of my favorite crops.  I put it in almost everything.  Sautéing fresh garlic in sweet cream butter smells like home and comfort.  Add some spinach and mushrooms and you have a wee bit of heaven on your plate.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

Have you started planning your fall garden?  What’s on your list?

Creative Perceptions

Genius means little more than the faculty of perceiving in an unhabitual way.
~ William James

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erceptions can be dangerous.  Especially if they’re the wrong ones.  In the latest issue of Mary Jane’s Farm [love, love, LOVE that magazine! Can you tell I love it?], Rebekah Teal has an article about her truck, Elvis.  Rebekah also owns an SUV and she’s noticed that people respond to her differently when she drives Elvis.  And not in a positive way.

How snobby and shallow of those people! 

And I must admit, that is pretty shallow: judging a person based on their ride.  Yet we do it all the time.  I’m as guilty as the next person, although mine is a little counter-current cultural: if I see you driving a truck, I automatically think you’re polite, can build and/or fix anything with your own two hands, and like homemade biscuits.  Which is just silly, because I drive a truck and I can only lay claim to two of those perceptions!

However, my own perception of who I am and what I’m capable of changes when I drive my truck.  When I drive my truck, I feel like I can fix or repair anything.  I can't, but that fact doesn't change my perception.

Okay.  So how does this pertain to art?

Creative Perceptions

Perception plays a key role for any medium.  Specifically, as a writer, my perception of my own characters ~ be it a fictitious one, or not ~ influences how you the reader perceive them.  Is my language sympathetic?  Are you meant to like this character and side with them?  Or is my language harsh and cold, leading you to hope that this character “gets what’s coming to them?”

Brainstorming for new artistic ideas can sometimes be like waiting for rain in the desert.  Better to do a rain dance then sit around.  And I’ve spoken before about ways we can prime the pump.

Why not change your perception?

If I feel like a different person when I drive my truck, I can tap into that feeling, expand it, apply it to a character, express it in a poem, or write about in a blog post.  Don’t have a truck?  Test drive one!  Or test drive a luxury sedan or sports car.  There’s no law that says you can’t test drive a car even if you have no intention of buying it. You may be surprised at the views you encounter along the way.

Including the one from the driver’s seat.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

What changes your perception of yourself? Of others?  Cars? Clothes? Job title?  How can you use that change to change your art?

Top Five Friday: Books Julia Child Would Have Loved

She died with a knife in her hand in her kitchen, where she had cooked for fifty years,
and the death was solemnly listed in the newspaper as that of an artist.
~ Janet Flanner

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ulia Child would have been 100 years old this week. 

What an amazing person!  She picked up cooking later in life and turned it into a passion and career.  She never let the number of candles on her éclair dictate what she could or could not do.

In honor of her Centennial Birthday, here are my top five books that combine wit, humour, life, and, of course, food.   



Babette’s Feast - Isak Dinesen

It has always been one of my dreams to re-create Babette’s famous dinner for 12.  I might have to find a substitute for the sea turtle ~ I think they’re on the endangered list now. 

This book embodies all that I believe about food and culture.  Most Americans eat like that narrow, puritanical community: without joy and without fellowship.  The only difference is the gruel they ate might actually have been nutritious, whereas there isn’t much in the Standard American Diet (SAD) that is even food, let alone nutritious.

To leave this story off this list would be tantamount to heresy. 



Photo: Joop Hoek



Love in a Dish. . .And Other Culinary Delights – M.F.K. Fisher

Who says a mentor has to be alive and kicking?  No shelf of cooking essays is complete without something by M.F.K. Fisher.  She was a master essayist on everything gastronomical. . .and then some!  I soak up her witticisms and wisecracks like so much French bread in mushroom gravy.

The Bread of Three Rivers: The Story of a French Loaf – Sara Mansfield Taber

Honestly, I was a little floured with envy when I read Taber’s account of her quest to find the quintessial loaf of French bread.  Talk about the best job ever!  It is an intimate look at how important supporting the local economy is and just what goes into making a loaf of French bread.

Great, just talking about it makes me want to run to the kitchen and get my arms floured up.

Cooking for Mr. Latte: A Food Lover’s Courtship, with Recipes – Amanda Hesser

This was the first book I read that combined an an engaging story with usable recipes.  After devouring it, I was hooked on books that married superbly written true stories and mouth-watering recipes.

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle – Barbara Kingsolver

Anyone concerned about where their food comes from, what has been sprayed on it and whether their strawberry’s DNA has been crossed with a toad [okay, that’s a bit of exaggeration – but not much!] knows about this great book.  Kingsolver took her family on a eat fresh, eat local one year adventure that is still going on today. 

It is a must have on any kitchen shelf: your cooking is only as great as your ingredients.  I like mine to travel as little as possible.

 

Happy Birthday, Julia!   Thank you for showing us that any age is a great age to be as long as you approach with joy, passion, and with your heart and hands wide open to give and receive.   

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

And thanks for the coq au vin!