Tanessa Dreams

Making juice with the baby

2013-05-03T19:30:00.000-07:00

If Ben says, "Eh eh eh" in the kitchen, he probably wants to make juice. I'm not always in the mood to make it, but at least it's a healthy habit.

His favorite things to juice are carrots and celery.

A letter to my 6-year old

2013-04-22T17:38:00.000-07:00

Dear Son,

I wanted to write this letter to you before you were born. It was supposed to be filled with all my hopes and dreams for you. Then, you arrived, and I planned to write you while you were a baby. I got busy spending my days and nights with you and neglected to record all the little facts I was supposed to in your book, like how many months you were when you got each of your teeth.

Today you are six and at the San Antonio Zoo. You wanted me to go at first. I have always gone on your field trips or special parties you have at school. Then, you told me I didn’t have to go. I think you are becoming so brave. When it comes to letting you go, I have to be brave, too.

I promised to get you a camera for the field trip. Since I originally planned on being there with you, it seemed OK to let you take pictures of the animals like you wanted. When I realized you would be on your own, a camera seemed like a bad idea. It could get lost or cause a distraction, because the other kids wouldn’t have cameras. I told you that sometimes when people visit museums and zoos, they take along journals to draw what they see. You immediately went to work designing a little journal you could carry in your pocket and draw in today. I was impressed how you turned your situation into a fun project. You wrote entries like, “RIT WUT YOU WONT TOO LRN UBOUT” and “I WONT TOO SEE U.” I was so proud how you made the book by yourself.

This letter has been hard to write because I realize that it doesn’t make sense to write letters to babies. I would have only been writing the letter to myself or an older version of you. Today, I realize that you did not come into the world so that I can fill you with my thoughts, hopes and dreams. You have your own thoughts. You dream about becoming a video game designer. When Daddy or I try to teach you things, you usually get frustrated, because you like teaching yourself.

You also have been a great teacher to me. You teach me how to forgive. You teach me how to let go. You teach me how to be an artist. Even when you are sick, you make sure you are having fun. When you want something, it always has a way of showing up for you. One time you wanted zucchini bread. Then, while visiting your great grandma, her neighbor delivered some warm zucchini bread. Things like that happen to you all the time. I am still trying to figure out how you make these little miracles happen.

So, Guy, my letter to you is more of a THANK YOU note. Thank you for being my son. Thank you for being my teacher. Thank you for telling me I’m the best mom ever, even though I am grumpy sometimes or make decisions you don't like. My greatest wish for you is that, one day, you show the world all the great things I already know about you. I want you to know that no matter how old you are, you will ALWAYS be my baby. I will try not to call you my baby in front of your friends.

Love you forever,

Mommy

Do You Dream In Paragraphs? Mine Your Dreams For Writing Ideas

2013-04-18T14:35:00.000-07:00

This article has been reprinted with the permission of Writer’s Relief, an author’s submission service that has been helping creative writers make submissions since 1994. Their work is highly recommended in the writing community, and there are TONS of freebies, publishing leads, and writers resources on their website. Check it out!

Awake or asleep, creative writers are dreamers. But what’s the connection between writing and the dreams that come of their own accord at night? And how can a writer tap into this rich source of inspiration and creative energy?

If a writer can forge a link between the imagery and symbolism of their dreams and the power of their own writing, creative sparks will fly. Sometimes a snippet of a dream is all it takes to inspire a poem, story, or novel.

Examples Of Stories That Were Sprung From Dreams

Richard Bach was moved to write the first few chapters ofJonathan Livingston Seagull after he heard “a disembodied voice” whisper the title in his ear. But it wasn’t until eight years later, after a dream that featured the famous seagull, that he was able to finish his hugely popular novella.

Stephen King, too, has looked to dreams for inspiration. In Writers Dreaming by Naomi Epel, King says, “…when I got road-blocked in my novel It, I had a dream about leeches inside discarded refrigerators. I immediately woke up and thought, ‘That is where this is supposed to go.’”

Mary Shelley wasn’t even fully asleep—she lay down and closed her eyes and was haunted by a ghastly mental image that inspired her to write Frankenstein. “I began that day with the words, ‘It was on a dreary night of November,’ making only a transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream.”

Even if a writer’s dreams don’t have a direct influence on their work, their creative energy can generate forward movement. Maurice Sendak, in Writers Dreaming, says, “What dreams do is raise the emotional level of what I’m doing at the moment. They add color or counterpoint to the work, acting as an almost symphonic accompaniment to what I’m doing.”

How to Make the Most of Your Dreams

1. Pay attention to your dreams and jot down notes about them as soon as possible when you wake up. You may be able to glean general ideas—themes, plot, characters, or settings—from the wild tangle of images, if not the full concept of a novel. Dreams can certainly be a jumping-off point for the creative process.

2. Try making a conscious effort, before going to sleep, to be present and aware in your dreams that night. Some people describe being aware of dreaming while in the midst of a dream and are able to participate more fully in the dream or even direct it to a certain extent—something that would certainly take some practice, but what fun it would be!

3. If you’re suffering from writer’s block or faced with a seemingly insurmountable plot problem, concentrate on the problem right before drifting off. Your subconscious may work to resolve the dilemma overnight and either reveal a resolution in a dream or upon awakening.

“The brain is so strange and wondrous in its mystery. I think it creates a number of things for itself—it creates launching pads and resting places—and it lets steam off and it reworks itself.” (Maya Angelou, Writers Dreaming)

Simply be aware of the process—and the power—of dreaming to tap into that creative energy—and use it to your writing advantage!

Flying South

2013-04-01T11:11:00.000-07:00

It was just a couple weeks ago that I was getting ready to fly home after my road trip from Texas to Washington. When I checked in online, I decided to give myself an "upgrade," moving my seat a couple rows forward. I was already in my aisle seat, along with another lady in my row at the window, when the Middle Seat approached. She was petite and pretty, either in her late 30s or 19. I couldn't tell. She stayed long enough to set her things down, but she was going to use the restroom first. One of those people.

I was eager to start reading the book I bought in the airport book store, How to Be a Woman by Caitlin Moran. On the cover, Vanity Fair calls it, "The British version of Tina Fey's Bossypants." Guess what Middle Seat pulls out of her bag to read? Bossypants! I feel an instant bond, though I don't know quite how to share it, other than to simply be with our similar taste in reading. We haven't said much, besides our brief exchange getting settled in our seats. As the flight to Dallas begins, we snack, read, make ourselves comfortable.

from "30 Rock"/NBC

Then, the flight attendant comes on the speaker. "I have some bad news, folks." We look up from our books. "Our ___ system is down." Long pause. "Unfortunately, we will," scratchy, scratchy, pause, pause. I think the plane is about to turn around, and we might all possibly die, "be unable to offer our WiFi service today." We let out sighs of relief.

"They should have led with that," Middle Seat says. With that, we are BFFs for flight. We talk for the next couple of hours, between our reading and snacking and trips to the restroom. This woman is a pilates teacher. I recently, half serious, told my husband my next career will be a yoga teacher. Our real bond has to do with the fact that she's from the south and living in the Northwest. I am from the Northwest living in the South. My impressions of the South seem to be both startling and validating to her. She laughs when I say that people's friendliness made my husband and me uncomfortable, at first. We did not understand why people were always trying to make conversation. Since we were not in the habit of making small talk with strangers, this was something we had to learn. Now, I find myself more relaxed around people.

We bonded over politics, music, even my children. I love it when a childless woman "gets" and appreciates what it means to be a mother. Children or not, we are in the same club. We both admit that we are experiencing really bad cramps. I even mention our books. The flight goes by quickly. The only other time a flight went by so fast was when I took a red-eye to Dallas once. I fell asleep before we took off (with a first class row to myself) and woke up at my destination. I've told that story so much that I question if this really happened. Could it have been a dream? I never sleep on planes.

I realize I don't know Middle Seat's name. Normally, I'd ask. I might even try to keep in touch. I decide that it's her call. I must live in the moment, like a kid who makes a best buddy at the playground, only to go home and never see that lovely soul again. I have to be OK with not being attached. Since we are all connected to each other, I must allow connections to come and go. I must accept that these connections are more common than I think. Perhaps, if I had not changed my seat, I would have made a similar--but different--best friend in another row.

Gluten free or not gluten free

2013-03-15T20:54:00.001-07:00

Isn't my sister creative? I love a party where I can eat cake!

Gluten free carrot cake cupcakes on top. Regular carrot cake on bottom.

The best advice, baby doll

2013-02-12T11:43:00.000-08:00

My friends used to come to me all the time for advice about everything from relationships to what to wear. It puzzled me, because I was not an expert in anything they sought counsel about. I quickly realized that people did not really want my opinion. If I said, "I like the black dress," they would say, "But I really want to wear the blue dress." If I said, "I think he's not serious about you," they would say, "I think I'm going to give him another chance." They did not want my advice. They wanted validation. They wanted permission to follow their hearts.

So I stopped telling them what I thought they should do and, instead, supported whatever decision they seemed to be making.

People want acceptance, not judgment, I learned. I figured I must be good at not judging people, which is why they keep asking me for "advice."

Sure, there are times when people actually want my opinion, but it's rare. If you find that your advice is not welcomed or appreciated, try the acceptance approach. You will be revered through all the land, and the love in your world will surely increase.

Favorite part of the day

2013-02-11T11:15:00.000-08:00

Most nights of the week, I cook dinner for my sons and two of my nephews. When I first started doing this, my meals were met with attitudes. "I'm not eating that." "Ewww." "I don't want that." It didn't feel good to hear complaints, when I presented my best effort at every meal. I finally decided I needed to have each boy tell me what they were grateful for during these meals. Initially, I wanted them to appreciate me, the fact that they had food and that I could be serving worse things than spaghetti or rice or whatever they were complaining about.

As time has passed, I really don't need the thanks. I simply wanted them to show an attitude of gratitude, not a "baditude" or "saditude," two terms they recently introduced to our meals. By dinner time, I am tired and overwhelmed by the after school noise of playing and bickering. I am cooking with a toddler in one arm, to keep him from playing in the toilet, because the other boys have left the bathroom door open again. Perhaps, my food gets cold, because I am serving drinks, cleaning up a spill or negotiating the terms of dessert. When the chaos reaches a boiling point, I ask, "What are you grateful for today?" They all want to answer first.

They list family members by name. From immediate family to distant relatives. They are regularly grateful for games and dinosaurs (who knew?). Recently, they started finishing their gratitude lists by getting up and hugging everyone who is present. It is a sweet, and somewhat competitive, time. No matter how rough the day has been, I feel a weight lifted. I would be lying if I said I never receive complaints at dinner anymore. It happens. But it doesn't happen every night. When it does happen, we can at least focus on something positive.

Gift of Power by Archie Fire Lame Deer & Richard Erdoes

2012-10-30T22:31:00.000-07:00

Gift of Power: the Life of Teachings of a Lakota Medicine Man
by Archie Fire Lame Deer & Richard Erdoes (Bear & Company)

"One night, I had tied one on. I fell into my bed, which stood next to a window. My sleep was disturbed by nightmares. I woke up with a start and found myself in total darkness. The voices of several women in front of my window had awakened me. I was wide awake. I lit the lamp and looked out the window. I saw points of light moving in the darkness--eyes reflecting my lamp's light. I turned the lamp off and tried to fall asleep again. But then I heard the voices again, laughing and giggling.

Early in the morning, I got out of bed and went outside to investigate. There was no grass in front of my window, just soft, muddy earth with fresh deer tracks all over, but no sign of human footprints. I swept up these tracks to see what would happen next, and the following night I heard the voices again, laughing, talking, and chatting in a language I could not understand. In the morning, the ground was again covered with deer tracks. This happened night after night for about two weeks. Always I found the imprints of deer hooves, never the imprint of a human foot or boot."

The author discovers that he is working at the ranch his grandfather once worked on and is sleeping in the bed his grandfather once slept in. "Then I knew that my dead grandpa was sending me these laughing deer to remind me of his teachings."

Shortbread

2012-09-26T20:33:00.000-07:00

In the dream, my dad/Ronald Regan was driving me around. We had stopped at a shortbread store, but I was indecisive and bought nothing, despite having a $1 off coupon. Only after we left did I realize I did want a shortbread cookie. I asked my dad to go back to the store but was certain he'd say no. To my surprise, he said yes, and we were on our way.

I was very close to eating a shortbread cookie, when my husband woke me up. "Do you want some coffee?" he asked. While it wasn't the worst way to be woken up, I was looking forward to tasting that shortbread.

Since my dad passed away, almost a year ago, he has played a quiet, friendly role in my dreams. This particular dream had him more involved than usual, so it felt significant in many ways.

Later in the morning, I went to the store for some milk. In the car, I remembered I had a $1 off coupon for "my next purchase." I knew I had to buy shortbread, even though I am on a gluten-free diet and could not eat any (this is why I so WISHED to have the experience in my dream!). I told my 5-year old about the dream and that this was going to be a "gift" from Papa. My dad did like butter cookies. It would only be appropriate. He was excited to be the benefactor of my dream.

I bought Walker's, a brand of that I recalled eating when I lived in England. There were cheaper but unfamiliar options. I had to go all the way with this mission, the finest wheat flour, butter, sugar and salt my money could buy.

My son has never tried butter cookies (to either of our knowledge). He is not a fan of trying new foods, but he is much more open when the new foods are treats. He loved the shortbread. And I loved making my dream come true.

Project Dreamcatcher

2012-09-01T15:19:00.001-07:00

Some time after "hearting" a homemade dream catcher on tumblr, I had a dream about making my own. It was a vivid dream, the kind of dream that suggested it could somehow change my life. I knew I would have to make an attempt at making one, even though I am not a "dream catcher person." I don't have one hanging over my bed or dangling from my rear view mirror. I have this--

Yesterday I was feeling like making some dolls but realized I did not have the materials I needed. Since I was already on an outdoor adventure with Guy, I decided to look for branches to make a dream catcher. Guy decided to make one, too, tho he did not know much about them.

Not quite a circle but made with love by Tanessa

I wanted to use found materials, with the idea that my dream catcher could fall apart, like a prayer cloth. I was not sure how I would achieve a circle shape. Mostly I played with the arrangement of branches and started cutting or breaking them, as well as carefully bending them, into what turned out to be more of an oval. I later read on a site about Native Technology and Art, "It is also customary in many parts of Canada and the Northeastern U.S. to have the dream catchers to be a tear drop/snow shoe shape." I decorated the dream catcher with pink ribbon, some fabric scraps, including pieces of a green t-shirt. The red comes from the plastic tie inside a kitchen garbage bag.

By Guy, 5 & 1/2

Guy used a piece of metal he found, for the circle part of his dream catcher. He attached some yellow pieces (not sure what they are), which make it look like a sun. We found the feather on our walk yesterday, as well as the pine cone. Both of our dream catchers have details that cannot be seen in the photos, like mine has a shell we found at the beach a couple days ago.

Guy and I both reported having sweet dreams last night. In his, flowers bloomed in the winter. In mine, I was in the midst of some festive season with my relatives.

Quiet contemplation 7.6.12

2012-08-22T09:59:00.000-07:00

Sarah's room is small, and it's hard to capture the magic of how it's decorated. The walls are covered with fabric and quilts. I told her Gloria Vanderbilt did something similar, but she had no idea what I was talking about. A couple sections of the wall have scenes from Beatrix Potter's Petter Rabbit stories. Guy and I have read those since he was about two. Sometimes we sit there and discuss the scenes and the stories they come from.

The radio just happened to be on the day I filmed this. It seemed like a fitting song, for everything that was going on.

Sindbad in the Land of Giants

2012-08-14T19:21:00.000-07:00

Far from the model mother for summer reading, I did read a handful of books with my boy. Sindbad in the Land of Giants was particularly dark, rich with adventure and not the kind of story I normally seek. Now, I am quite curious about the further Tales Of The Thousand And One Nights...

"In the most exquisite palace, poor Sindbad the Porter felt soft silk brush against his shoulder as the smell of fresh-brewed tea roused him from a sweet dream. Yet the palace was no dream. Sindbad the Porter had been summoned here three days earlier by Sindbad the Sailor to listen to tales of wondrous travels filled with danger and excitement."

from Sindbad in the Land Of Giants, Retold and Illustrated by Ludmila Zeman

St. Teresa

2012-08-13T14:53:00.000-07:00

O God, help me! How a soul suffers when she loses the freedom to be who she truly is. What torment she endures. ~Teresa of Ávila

Dedicated the weekend in Oregon to my boys--a birthday party for Guy and a day of recording for Jesse. On the drive home, I thought I might grab some "me" time, by reading a book. Both Guy and Jesse thought it would be more fun to talk to me. Not only did the idea of hearing voices, as well as the obnoxious political radio, on this drive, annoy me, it made me kind of nuts. Worse, the book I so desperately, now angrily wanted to dig into---Teresa of Ávila's The Book of My Life--was a spiritual one.

Clearly, I was not getting the lesson. I wanted to read about being spiritual, not mellow out and be with my family. Could I finish a chapter first? The harder I tried to read, the more difficult it got. There are times to surrender and times to fight. This felt like a fighting moment.

After making so much possible for everyone else, I needed to feed myself. Reading relaxes me. It fills me up. It quiets my mind. If I did not demand the space and respect for my ritual, my soul would be lost. This sounds like something Teresa would say. She's especially dramatic, but sometimes you have to be.

I wanted to read this book, because I wanted to learn from a "mystical Christian." I am tired of keeping my spiritual experiences secret. I am not talking faith here but experience. Experiences beyond dreams. The things I have witnessed are the most interesting things about me. Yet, I am afraid of telling these stories, because I will sound like a crazy person, describing the images I have seen or the voices I have heard.

I spent a good deal of the night tormented by dreams. Even when the dreams improved, I was still being left behind or mistreated in some way. I woke up wanting a good cup of coffee, my book and maybe to be just a little understood.

I Can Dream About You by Dan Hartman

2012-08-09T12:43:00.000-07:00

Somehow the singing bartender thing just works.

I Can Dream About You by Dan Hartman

Linda Ronstadt and Kermit sing "All I Have to Do Is Dream"

2012-08-08T12:37:00.000-07:00

Linda Ronstadt and Kermit the frog sing "All I Have to Do Is Dream"

I love how they are so tender with each other. They almost appear to be in love. As lovely as the Everly Brothers version.

This God Damn Cancer

2012-08-07T10:39:00.000-07:00

Read all of Sarah's book, This God Damn Cancer, yesterday. Also read her cookbook, In the Belly of the Whale. Sarah liked to say she was lazy, but she was certainly a productive lazy person, if that was the case.

Jesse thinks we should make gluten-free versions of all the recipes in the cookbook. Although Sarah totally disses the g-free lifestyle in her cookbook, she explained to me that it was all the people jumping on the diet like it was a trendy thing to do. They'd come into her place of work asking for gluten-free goods, then settle for wheat-filled products, if none were available. Someone with a true allergy would not be able to do this. One night of seeing me, after an accidental exposure was probably enough to consider me the real deal.

Sarah often bought me gluten free goodies and occasional made something. She was going to do lots of baking for me when she got better. She also wanted to buy me the gluten-free version of one of her favorite cake books, from The Cake Doctor series. I guess it will be up to me to bake my own cakes.

Beginning a new project

2012-08-06T14:04:00.000-07:00

Before Sarah died, she asked me to help her finish the book she was writing. In the last days, we tried to work on the story, but it was too hard. Ultimately, she gave me a list of people she approved of to help, but it will be a challenge to finish. For one thing, Sarah's voice is so unique, not even "the best" writing would compensate for the abrupt end to her storytelling. She only wrote a few chapters, so most of the story needs to be added. Jesse and I have been playing with ideas, even consulting the Parents on how they think the story should unfold. Sarah seemed to be OK with patching the work together. I don't think a publisher would be cool with that, tho that should be the least of our concerns.

Over the last 10 years I have mostly written about my life. It has been awhile, since I focused on telling someone else's story. It is a good challenge, tho overwhelming not having Sarah here to make her story into the one she wanted to tell.

Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche

2012-07-05T13:48:00.000-07:00

"How many of us are aware of the change in consciousness when we fall asleep? Or of the moment of sleep before dreams begin? How many of us are aware even when we dream that we are dreaming? Imagine, then, how difficult it will be to remain aware during the turmoil of the bardos of death."

~Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche

Francesca Woodman sleep

2012-07-03T13:37:00.000-07:00

"This is the 5th night

I have not been able to sleep.

I think when I come down from the insomnia high I will be disappointed in myself."

from the journal of photographer Francesca Woodman, as seen in film, The Woodmans

Christopher Williams - I'm Dreamin'

2012-07-02T22:25:00.000-07:00

This ode to dreamin' makes me want to watch New Jack City.

"don't wake me, I'm dreamin'"

"I'm Dreamin'" by Christopher Williams

California

2012-06-28T13:21:00.000-07:00

Joni Mitchell's California, 1970

because I secretly dream of living there...and more than anywhere else I've been it "takes me as I am."

Black and white morning

2012-06-27T16:56:00.000-07:00

I am not a morning person. So when I am awake to experience the morning, I am usually amazed at what I see.

Recently, I found myself waking up everyday at a time when life outside appeared to be in black and white. Maybe 4 a.m.

For several days, I tried to capture the scene, tho I only took pictures from bed.

I kept wanting to go outside but could not manage the effort.

So these pics are through the screen and window of an old Airstream.

Woolgathering by Patti Smith

2012-06-20T15:16:00.000-07:00

"I laid my rain coat across the foot of my mat and chose an old muslin dress to sleep in. It was a warm evening. I said my prayers and pushed the arm of the player over. Then the record would play over and over as I slept."

Patti Smith

Woolgathering

another snippet:

Lakota Thunder Dreamers

2012-06-18T15:58:00.000-07:00

"Heyokas are powerful. They can cure certain illnesses, and they can also change the weather. They can change a blizzard into a clear day and summer breeze into a hailstorm. They can part the clouds to let the sun shine through, and they can protect people from being hit by lightning...A heyoka is a 'thunder dreamer.' The moment you dream of thunder or lightning or of the Wakinyan, the Thunderbirds, you become a heyoka whether you want it or not. Even if you merely dream of one of the many symbols of lightning--a gray horse, for instance--you are turned into one of these contraries."

Gift of Power: The Life and Teachings of a Lakota Medicine Man

Arhcie Fire Lame Deer

Richard Erdoes

Kat Von D dream tattoo

2012-06-15T15:39:00.000-07:00

Kat Von D on Baxter Paulson's "I'll See You In My Dreams" memorial tattoo

"Since she was little, her grandfather would always say, 'I'll see you in my dreams.' He wrote it on everything he gave her, even her birthday cards."