I began this blog in April, 2015. I knew I wanted to begin sharing my poetry, photography and my art with people who would appreciate the importance of creative endeavors. I had been told about blogs from my colleagues, my students, and even my children. I have been very technologically challenged in the past and I wasn't confident about how to proceed. I asked my youngest son for assistance in setting up this Weebly site and I posted one thing just to see how it would work. And, then, my computer crashed, Many months have passed and I have endeavored to learn about blogging through many sources (especially the Artful Blogging magazine which is published from Stampington & Company.) I know what you're thinking and, no, I am not being paid by Stampington to say nice things about them!! I have been reading back issues from cover to cover. The stories of the bloggers in the magazine and the beautiful photos and collage art have made me realize that I can overcome my "tech-phobia" and I can really so this.
This is the start of my journey. As they say, "every journey begins with a single step", or in this case with a post. I have been creative all my life. I grew up in a very close family. We had to be close because my father was a scientist and engineer in the oil industry and the companies he worked for transferred him constantly. From the time I was born to the time I entered sixth grade, we had moved 28 different times. We moved to Houston when I was in middle school and we stayed there. During much of my formative years, I found solace in books. I would read while I waited for the bus, while I waited for classes to begin after the bus dropped us off, during lunch, during gym if I could get away with it, and after school waiting for the bus. I began writing poetry and taking poetry seriously when I had the fortune to have an excellent English teacher in high school who encouraged me to write, He would let me write short stories instead if boring essays.
After high school, I continued to write, My path was not the usual path, though. In fact poetry had a big influence on my life in several ways. I remembered Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken" and I took a different path, also. I joined the Navy and spent the early years of my youth in Cuba and Greece and New England. Throughout all those years, I continued to write. I had a few things published in Navy newspapers and other journals. I bought a camera and learned to take photographs. I saw beauty and detail in all the places where I traveled or was stationed.
In Cuba, a favorite pass time was to go to the park which is located on the base (which is on Guantanamo Bay) and right by the ocean. I would sit for hours just watching the ocean. I would stay there all night sometimes... on the quiet beach, with the red and black land crabs that crawled over the rocks in the hundreds sometimes, and the stars gleaming above the cliffs. I think that I have always had poet's sensibility. I saw an interview once with Omar Sharif, He was talking about the making of the movie Dr. Zhivago. He said the director, David Lean, wanted to convey the sense that Yuri Zhivago, the main character, was a poet. Lean could not just have Yuri reading poetry. Instead, he used cinematography to show the poet's sensibilities by showing the world through Yuri's eyes -- how the yellow leaves drifted down in the forest scene, how the abandoned mansion was full of drifted snow. This interview was very revealing to me. (It was an interview on Turner Class Movies channel). It explained why I usually see things differently than many of the people I know, why I would notice the small details.
I have found that many of the bloggers also see these poetic details. That is why I think creating a blog is an important step for me to finding like souls who want to live a creative life. That said, I think I should explain what was happening when I wrote "Larry the Lyre Snake".
I wrote the poem on Easter morning. My family had all gone up to the Piney Woods to spend the weekend with my dad who is 86. Every Easter with my dad is a gift. We woke up on Easter morning and were sitting on the back porch looking out at the forest directly behind my dad's house and to the lake which shimmered beyond the trees. I glanced over at a large sweet gum tree and notice a long, gray straggly vine. I commented "that a vine looks like it could be a snake", and just after that, the vine began to wriggle up the side of the tree. Eventually, the snake made it to the top and shortly thereafter, we noticed the mother squirrel screaming and chattering, The snake was occupied for about thirty minutes and then crawled down the tree. He came down faster than he went up. He was full of something -- presumably the baby squirrels from the nest. He was quite long -- four to five feet. We all took turns watching him through binoculars, He slithered off into the forest and we headed to the computer to figure out just what kind of snake he was, We identified him as a "lyre" snake, a kind of Texas type "boa" that is on the endangered species list. We dubbed him Larry and later that weekend, I wrote that poem.
This is the start of my journey. As they say, "every journey begins with a single step", or in this case with a post. I have been creative all my life. I grew up in a very close family. We had to be close because my father was a scientist and engineer in the oil industry and the companies he worked for transferred him constantly. From the time I was born to the time I entered sixth grade, we had moved 28 different times. We moved to Houston when I was in middle school and we stayed there. During much of my formative years, I found solace in books. I would read while I waited for the bus, while I waited for classes to begin after the bus dropped us off, during lunch, during gym if I could get away with it, and after school waiting for the bus. I began writing poetry and taking poetry seriously when I had the fortune to have an excellent English teacher in high school who encouraged me to write, He would let me write short stories instead if boring essays.
After high school, I continued to write, My path was not the usual path, though. In fact poetry had a big influence on my life in several ways. I remembered Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken" and I took a different path, also. I joined the Navy and spent the early years of my youth in Cuba and Greece and New England. Throughout all those years, I continued to write. I had a few things published in Navy newspapers and other journals. I bought a camera and learned to take photographs. I saw beauty and detail in all the places where I traveled or was stationed.
In Cuba, a favorite pass time was to go to the park which is located on the base (which is on Guantanamo Bay) and right by the ocean. I would sit for hours just watching the ocean. I would stay there all night sometimes... on the quiet beach, with the red and black land crabs that crawled over the rocks in the hundreds sometimes, and the stars gleaming above the cliffs. I think that I have always had poet's sensibility. I saw an interview once with Omar Sharif, He was talking about the making of the movie Dr. Zhivago. He said the director, David Lean, wanted to convey the sense that Yuri Zhivago, the main character, was a poet. Lean could not just have Yuri reading poetry. Instead, he used cinematography to show the poet's sensibilities by showing the world through Yuri's eyes -- how the yellow leaves drifted down in the forest scene, how the abandoned mansion was full of drifted snow. This interview was very revealing to me. (It was an interview on Turner Class Movies channel). It explained why I usually see things differently than many of the people I know, why I would notice the small details.
I have found that many of the bloggers also see these poetic details. That is why I think creating a blog is an important step for me to finding like souls who want to live a creative life. That said, I think I should explain what was happening when I wrote "Larry the Lyre Snake".
I wrote the poem on Easter morning. My family had all gone up to the Piney Woods to spend the weekend with my dad who is 86. Every Easter with my dad is a gift. We woke up on Easter morning and were sitting on the back porch looking out at the forest directly behind my dad's house and to the lake which shimmered beyond the trees. I glanced over at a large sweet gum tree and notice a long, gray straggly vine. I commented "that a vine looks like it could be a snake", and just after that, the vine began to wriggle up the side of the tree. Eventually, the snake made it to the top and shortly thereafter, we noticed the mother squirrel screaming and chattering, The snake was occupied for about thirty minutes and then crawled down the tree. He came down faster than he went up. He was full of something -- presumably the baby squirrels from the nest. He was quite long -- four to five feet. We all took turns watching him through binoculars, He slithered off into the forest and we headed to the computer to figure out just what kind of snake he was, We identified him as a "lyre" snake, a kind of Texas type "boa" that is on the endangered species list. We dubbed him Larry and later that weekend, I wrote that poem.
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