What inspires me to be creative and live a more beautiful life

“Bread and Coffee”

My thanks for this prompt goes to the Woman on the Wrong Side of the Mirror, who got it from The Night Writer, who got it from Inspiration Flirtation.

My inspiration comes from….

• Holding a camera
• Opening a journal to a blank page
• Watching a cursor blink
• Encountering the Ordinary over bread and coffee
• Experiencing the Divine through writ and ritual
• Picking and tripping over stones in the shade of oaks and sycamores
• Scanning the sea for wild whales and wayward pelicans
• Watching an egret hunt for her supper
• Cooking
• Roaming museums and libraries and connecting with the spirit that draws to Communion all creative souls
• Ascending mountains to see the dance of heaven
• Gazing at moon jellies and sea dragons in the dark
• The History Channel
• Rendezvous with the dark man in my nightly sojourns.
• Reading a trashy novel
• Solving a mystery
• Bellydancing
• Hanging with kindred angels
• Watching incense curl to the heavens and being thankful for it all.

Text and image:  L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Image of the Day: Big Sky

“Big Sky”

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

To Inspire your Inner Pirate

I gotta find a way to meet the owner of this house.  That person can’t be anything but FUN!!  Arrrrrrrgggggg and AVAST!!!!  Hang ‘em from the yardarm!

L.Gloyd (c) 2009

Just a Grey Lump

I know it’s just a grey lump in the water, but to me this is the shot I’ve been waiting for my whole life.   This is the first time I’ve every seen a wild whale with my own eyes.  Yes, I’ve seen trained killer whales at aquatic parks and, of course, I’ve seen loads of documentary films on whales.  But this is my first live encounter with an untamed one.

A few days ago I took my camera to work with me.   I had seen a news report that there was a California grey whale in the channel of a nearby boat harbor,  so during my lunch break,  I went down to breakwater at the mouth of harbor.  No whale.  Oh well, I got some other shots of interesting things so it wasn’t a complete waste of time (see previous post).    That was Wednesday.  This morning, Saturday, I decided to take a chance that the whale was still in the harbor and went down again with my camera.  I climbed out on the breakwater like I did a few days earlier.  Still no whale.

Then I saw a group of people on the breakwater on the other side of the channel.  They were looking at something.   I hopped in my car and drove all the way around to the other side.   I parked and walked about a mile out to the end of the rocks to where the people were gathered.

Then I heard it:  the whooshing sound of a whale blow.  Jackpot.   (The yellow spot on the map is the location of the whale.  I was on the strip of rocks just above it, about 35 or 40 feet from the animal).

I knew that I would never be this close to a wild whale again.  The law in these parts say that one cannot approach by boat protected marine animals.  Getting too close means a hefty fine and time in jail (rightly so). So the whale being this close to land is an opportunity that will most likely not happen again for me.  This would be my one-and-only-chance to get the photo I have been waiting decades to get.

I turned on my camera and poised myself.  Suddenly, the animal breached.  The crowds oooh-d and ahhh-d.  I quickly lifted my camera and snapped the shutter.  There was a long pause and a very slow click just as the whale moved back under the water.  I looked at the camera’s monitor and my heart jumped.  The glaring red flash of the “low battery” indicator blinked at me.

“NO!”   I said, a tad too loud because heads snapped around to look at me.  “Stupid, stupid, stupid”… I realized that I had left home without putting new batteries in my bag.

I snapped a few more pictures, each one with a delay that allowed the animal to sink back into the water before the shutter snapped.  Finally, the camera completely gave up the ghost and shut itself off.   I sighed and settled back to watch the whale gracefully lolling around in the water.  I got lost in watching the whale and the people watching it.  Fathers and mothers were lifting children onto their shoulders and pointing, “Do you see it?  Do you see the whale?”

I was briefly moved to tears:   this creature was so amazing and perfect that I finally concluded: what the hell, so I didn’t get a picture.  I am seeing this wonderful animal with my own eyes.   Me!   What did I do to deserve so great a gift?

It was  joyous.

But I did learn a few things that I want to pass on to you.  First, always take your camera with you.  You won’t get that perfect shot if you don’t have it.  Second, always, always, ALWAYS keep fresh batteries with you.  Duh.  I knew that but I didn’t do it this time and I paid for it.  Third, be willing to go the extra mile (literally).  Twice I went looking for the whale.  I was willing to try the third time and climb out on nearly a mile of breakwater to get the shot.

Finally, look for the miraculous in the ordinary.  It may look like only  a grey lump in the water, but to me it is one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life.

Here he is again, up close:

To read more about grey whales, see my article from two years ago: A Whale Watching Meditation.

Text and images:  L. Gloyd (c) 2009

PS:  I may just go back out there again soon with fresh batteries, just to see………………..

Fishing in Black and White

“Fishing”

RFoxx gave me some good advice (see comments below), so here is a revised version of the image.  Thanks, RFoxx.

“Fishing 2.0″

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Ageless Fun: A Day at the Beach

“Ageless Fun:  A Day at the Beach”

An “Aged” Photo

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

The Lady of Shalott

“The Lady of Shalott”

Based on a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

“…And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear…”

Digital montage, L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Behind the Chancel

I’ve shared stories with you before about some of the weird things that I’ve heard when I’ve been working alone in my church.  Footsteps, muffled voices, lights going on and off, the sound of the refrigerator door in the church kitchen opening and shutting – all these occurrences happening for no seemingly logical reason.    Usually I am the only one to notice this stuff.    This time, not so.

A fellow parishioner and I spent a couple of hours this afternoon at the church cleaning out a store room.  The room is part of a warren of small offices, closets, maintenance rooms, and the like that take up a two-storey area behind the chancel (the area at the front of the church sanctuary behind the pulpit).

There is one doorway into this part of the church and one set of wooden stairs that connect the two floors.   My friend and I were in this area and know for a fact that we were the only two people there –  in fact, we were the only two people in the building when we arrived.

My friend left to go down to the basement to do something, leaving me to de-construct an old bookcase that we were tossing out.  I was working near the pulpit platform right outside the entrance to this area behind the chancel.  NO ONE would be able to go in without passing by me.

I don’t know about other churches, but in our church no one ever likes to throw anything away.   I thought about this as I disassembled the bookcase.  A couple of people came to mind — people who are no longer among us – and wondered what they would say if they knew I was throwing out a perfectly good, dented, dusty, bulky, gun-metal gray, butt-ugly bookcase.

A couple of times I thought I heard my companion come back into the sanctuary and I turned around to say something.  Both times, there was no  one there.   Of course, it did occur to me, based on my previous experiences in the church, that maybe – just maybe I might not be alone.   I shrugged it off though.  I had a lot of work to do and I didn’t want my friend to think I was totally nuts if I suddenly  began going off about “feeling a presence.”

About ten minutes later, just as I was finishing up with the bookcase,  I heard a door shut and foot steps . I froze.  The sounds had come from the upstairs area behind the chancel – where I knew for a fact there was NO ONE.  I stopped what I was doing and just listened.

Suddenly, my companion was back.  I told him what happened.  “Maybe it’s the ghost,” he teased.  Actually, we both concluded that it was the acoustics of the building and in fact what I heard coming from upstairs was actually his movement downstairs that had somehow reverberated up.

It seemed logical.

After we finished up with our work in the storage closet,  we started talking about some minor construction work that was going to be done in this area.    My friend opened a small hatch in the wall of the hallway to show me how the electrical wiring would proceed.  We were both crouched on the floor looking into a very dark, cobweb-draped hole under the pulpit platform.   Honest to Pete, if this were a horror movie, this is the part where the red evil eyes would glare at us from the darkness, or the demented ax murderer who was hiding under the platform would jumped out at us.   No, nothing like that happened.

Instead, I heard a knock on the wall.

“Did you hear that?”  Oh, how I sounded just like Jason, Grant, and Yvette, the ghost busters on TV.

My friend pulled his head out of the hatch and we both were quiet.  Then, suddenly, there were three rapid knocks that sounded just like someone was knocking on a wooden door.  And it sounded to me like it was coming from upstairs, where I knew for a fact there was NO ONE.

My friend called out “Is there anybody there?”  Nothing.

I can’t say that we rushed out of the area; in fact, we went poking around a few more dark, creepy areas in the bowels of the building, but I can’t say that I was anything but uneasy.

Finally, as we were leaving, I mentioned the knocking we heard.  “See,” I said, “I don’t imagine these things.”

I’m sure my companion has already figured out the logical explanation for these knocks.  I’m sure he’s probably right.  There most likely is  a logical explanation.    However, I can’t help thinking that maybe there is someone still hanging around there didn’t like us throwing out stuff.   And she or he was trying to let us know about it.

L. Gloyd © 2009

The previous accounts:

The Noises Upstairs

What I Heard

Lemurian Flag

“Lemurian Flag”

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

I had a dream…

“I Had a Dream….”

Based on a real dream….  Come visit the real Soul Food Cafe HERE.

Photo collage

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

At the Festival

There could not have been a more perfect day for a festival: a dazzling blue sky, spring foliage coming into its own, and a light breeze wafting in from the ocean. And people – lots and lots of people – about fifty thousand of them, all gathered to celebrate the written word. Yesterday, I attended the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, held each year on the campus of the University of California at Los Angeles. The Festival is two days full of panel discussions and interviews, readings, book signings, community crossword puzzles, musical and dance entertainment, cooking demonstrations by cookbook authors, and publishers and authors hawking their books. All the activities at the Festival are free. One just needs to come with a love of the written word and a convivial spirit.

In past years’ attendance at the Festival, I have had the opportunity to see interviews with and readings by the likes of Ray Bradbury, Madeleine Albright, Joan Didion, Maya Angelou, Jared Diamond, and Maria Shriver. This year I decided to attend a themed panel discussion instead of an interview. The panel discussion I chose, for which I stood in line almost an hour to obtain a ticket, was about a topic that is near and dear to my Soul Food Café heart. It was entitled: “Status Update: Social Networking and Media.”

The panel discussion was moderated by Andrew Nystrom, the senior producer of social and emerging media for the L.A. Times. The panelists were Otis Chandler, the founder of Goodreads.com, a book-oriented social network, Sara Wolf, co-editor of Itch, an interactive e-zine for people in the dance profession, and Wil Wheaton , book author, blogger, and social commentator who ranks thirty-third in the number of people following him on Twitter. (If you are a Trekker, you know who Wil Wheaton is).

The discussion revolved around the impact of social networking and web-based media on reading. Chandler commented that books are not essentially a form of mass media because book reading is something that is done alone. With his network, Goodreads, he is trying to make reading a more social activity, with conversations revolving around books. Thousands of people can be reading and discussing a book at the same time. He cites, for example, the popularity of the Twilight novels are in part due to this type of social interaction. Wheaton commented that social networking has been criticized for shortening attention spans. Not true, he said. It is, in actuality, television entertainment that has been most responsible for the “dumbing down” of our society. Technology, to the contrary, is a motivator for getting young people to read and, similarly, getting people to write. He, for example, publishes mostly through LuLu.com. There is no financial risk and all he needs to do is write the book and then broadcast its availability to his Twitter followers (all 400,000 of them). It makes both economic and marketing sense.

(I need to comment that while the discussion was going on, many people in the lecture hall were twittering back and forth with each other and with one of the panelists about the discussion — very weird to watch).

If I were to boil the discussion down to one sentence it would be: The book is not dead, but literacy IS being greatly impacted by emerging media and it is too early to say how and to what extent yet.

After this panel, I spent the rest of my day at the Festival wandering the vendor booths, listening to outdoor speakers and readers, and enjoying a lovely Spring day with people of common interests and deportment. I came away bubbling over with creative ideas.

Here are a few images I brought home:

Text and images: L. Gloyd © 2009

 

The Vocapeople

A friend sent this to me.  This is so cool.

 

Demeter Rising at Wheatsheaf

 

“Demeter Rising at Wheatsheaf”

a digital composition

This is a little housewarming gift I made for my creativity mentor, Heather, who just moved to a new house in the country  near a town called Wheatsheaf.

 

L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Creative Blockage and the Art of Cheese-making

I am presently caught in a creative block and have have engaged in the Artist’s Way program to pull myself out of it. Julia Cameron, the creator of the program, writes about creative blocks in her book Walking the World. “Often we experience a sense of powerlessness because we do not see any direct action that we can take to concretely alter our sense of being stuck…sometimes we need to exercise just a little elbow grease in any creative direction we can find.” (pp 246-247) Then she offers a directive to start listing “small creative actions” to prime the pump, such as painting a windowsill or making a collection of favorite poems.

None of these particular creative actions appealed to me, but I began considering doing something creative in the kitchen. I’m not certain what got me thinking about cheese except perhaps a recent episode of Tony Bourdain’s No Reservations where he snarkily eats his way through Greece.  Greek food made me think of goat cheese, and I wondered if I could make this type of  cheese in the way Greek farm wives  have made it for thousands of years.

So I began researching recipes and “how-to” videos on fresh cheese-making. The first batch was a disaster resulting in my dumping a half gallon of expensive goat’s milk down the drain because I could not get the curds to separate from the whey. (This is when I realized that cheese-making is an ART). Rather than give up, I went back to my computer and started research how NOT to make fresh cheese. After tweaking my separating agents and getting a finer weave of cheesecloth, I was able to triumphantly hang up my first bag of cheese to drain.

Furthermore, I dovetailed my weekly “artist’s date” with this endeavor by going to my favorite spice and herb merchant (Penzey’s), sampling appropriate herbs for this batch of cheese, and finally selecting a sweet California Basil. When I got home, I blended the basil with garlic and coarse sea-salt and worked it into the cheese at the proper step of the process. The finished product was about a cup of fresh cheese that was sweeter and creamier than the most expensive chevre I could ever have purchased in a store.

So, I know you are asking “What’s this got to do with the creative process?” Everything. The action of making something is almost as important as the inspiration to create. That’s why a painter will write or a writer will play a guitar or a poet will bellydance. Action busts through the creative block the way a sledge-hammer breaks through a brick wall.

All that and a great tasting cheese on top of it.

Text and images: L. Gloyd (c) 2009

Something to lighten your day

I’ve been looking all over the internet for this and I finally found it.   This is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard.   Enjoy and let it lighten your day.