Fried Okra Productions

Opening a new blog -- Claudia Snowden

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 20:12:00 +0000

Fried Okra Productions is going dark. I've begun a new blog called simply Claudia Snowden on WordPress. It was time. Not very active yet, I'm battling a pinched nerve between my shoulder blades that hurts when I sneeze, cough, type, brush/wash my hair...move my right arm towards the left...pretty much any time.

Trying a new medication--Lyrica--to block the pain. Some unsettling side effects, such as also blocking other sensations, leading to more clumsiness than usual. If you have information or advice regarding Lyrica, I'd sure like to know. I don't trust meds that discombobulate.

I won't delete FOP. Too much content, good or bad, to throw away. And, I can refer back to posts that are relevant in my new blog.

Come visit and let me know what you think!

Blues Traveler to benefit Kids in a New Groove Gala Benefit Nov. 18 at OWT

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 18:11:00 +0000

2011 Music for the Soul Gala with Blues Traveler to benefit Kids In a New Groove

Exclusive concert will feature catered dinner, cocktails...and one incredible cause.

WHO: Kids in a New Groove—private music lessons for youth in foster care

WHAT: 2011 Music For The Soul Gala featuring Blues Traveler

WHERE: One World Theatre, 7701 Bee Caves Rd., Austin, TX ‪(512) 330-9500‬

WHEN: Friday, November 18 from 6:30 – 11 p.m.

WEB: http:/www.kidsinanewgroove.org/MusicForTheSoul

TIX: $250 individual, sponsorships start at $1,500

MEDIA: Photos, details, or interviews david@wyattbrand.com, (512) 450-4395

As a musician and compassionate human being, I need to share something with you I think is profoundly important. I unequivocally believe that music can help heal most anything. Last April, Will Taylor and Strings Attached turned me on to Kids in a New Groove (KING), a non-profit organization that gives real hope to Texas youth in foster care through free private music lessons. I’ve come to realize that these children need all the healing they can get--more than any other kids in any state foster care system.

Why do I think this?

Shanti Grossman from KING contacted me with an update on the program. She shared a few heart-breaking statistics about the Texas foster care system.

Texas ranks 50^th of 50 in funding for foster care.
Texas also ranks dead last in education.
Texas ranks first in deaths due to child abuse.
Some children in the Texas system are in up to 20 single-family foster homes.
Many children are in residential treatment centers/group homes until age 16.
70% of the U.S. prison population has been in foster care.
Many kids in foster care age out and end up pregnant or on welfare.

There's more...

Reports indicate that less than two percent of foster youth will graduate from college and up to 50% will end up homeless within two years of emancipation. (From the KING Gala press release)

Whether these facts are related or not, I can only venture an observation that the system is freaking broken and these kids need every shred of hope they can get. I can't think of a better way to make a positive difference on every aspect of these youngsters' lives than to get involved with this program.

Now for the Fun Part!

Blues Traveler is giving a gala dinner and concert to benefit KING on November 18 at One World Theatre! This will be a very cool event, for a very cool organization. If you can help in any way, please contact me ASAP.

Shanti also had some cracking great stories to share. She told me about a 15 year-old girl who found a reason to live through the healing power of music. The youngster had been in around 20 foster homes and 5-6 group homes. She became deeply depressed (who wouldn't?), neglecting her health and personal hygiene—essentially, she gave up. After two voice lessons in the program, she began showering again, and after a few more lessons, asked for permission to leave campus for a short run to get back in shape.

This young woman’s sense of self-worth and confidence revived when music entered her life on a consistent basis through the KING program. During the nearly two years this young lady participated in KING, she was bounced through several more foster arrangements, always maintaining contact with her teacher, regardless of what else was going on. It was her lifeline. This speaks to the understanding and compassion of the KING instructors as well as their artistry.

The proof is in the pudding.

And then there’s Antawaine. This is Antawaine in a "Sunday's Child" interview on YouTube. What we can’t know from the video is that Antawaine came from an abusive home, as many foster kids do, and was placed in the system by child protective services from a very early age. He developed anger and other behavioral problems, to no one's surprise. Antawaine had been in the KING program for a good while prior to the interview. In the interview, he says “Guitar is the spirit of my heart.” KING has made a radical difference in this young man's life. That’s how powerful this program is.

Want more awesome Proof is in the Pudding goodness?

Here's what KING music instructor Genevieve Borden (MT-BC, Neurologic Music Therapist) has to say about her young pupil:

Joshua is a fantastic young man. When I first met him, he was a little shy and was not extremely confident about his musical abilities in piano and voice. In the last year, I have seen him grow not only in his music career, but also in his schoolwork. He is improving greatly in both piano and voice and has learned to play the violin proficiently! He has pulled his grades up significantly as well.This year, so far, he has all A and B grades!! He is driven in his music and is looking forward to studying music in college. I am very proud of him!!

This is the "Ways You Can Help" part

Attend the 2011 Music For the Soul Gala concert with Blues Traveler!
Donate $$, time, blog posts, instruments, musical instruction, in-kind services…
Let all your friends know
Think of ways you can partner for concerts, etc.
Comp tickets for the KING kids for your concerts, shows, etc.
Collaborate with other kids' groups
Include info in newsletters
Spread the word about KING

Will Taylor's brilliant benefit concert and violin burning for the group met with great success. To celebrate, Will and friends hosted a BBQ for the KING kids in his backyard. They continue to support KING by setting up a project info table at every gig. How cool is that? Pretty damn good modeling, I’d say. Thanks to Will, AT&T, and many other dedicated folks and sponsors, KING is beginning to catch fire, and deservedly so.

My small contribution is this very tardy blog post. I really want you to see for yourself how necessary music is to heal the souls and hearts of these forgotten children.

The Really Awesome Bottom Line...
KING is making a difference. And you can help.

Alternately, Kids in a New Groove offers a decidedly more promising path by providing private music lessons to youth in foster care. All of their most recent high school graduates went on to college this fall, demonstrating that they are truly making a difference. The November fundraiser will allow them to sustain and extend their programs throughout the state.

Kids in a New Groove’s unique music mentoring programs have a proven track record of helping these youth improve grades, behavior, and overall life skills. Lessons become a lifeline as teachers move with foster youth between placements, giving these youth a chance to trust and develop lasting relationships. (From the Gala press release)

All photos courtesy Kids in a New Groove

R.I.P Steve Jobs and Aunt Ginger

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 05:32:00 +0000

October 10, 2011

Canada Thanksgiving Day

Gratitude

“(for) those things that aren't pleasant at the time, but turn out to be blessings in disguise.” Karen Coverett

The cycle of life.

As Steve Jobs put it (paraphrasing) thank God that there is death. It clears away the old, the decrepit, the dead wood to make room for the new. New ideas, techniques, ways of perceiving and tweaking the world to make it a better place for not just ourselves, but those who come after.

Birth—I have attended six births in 36 years, beginning with my own daughter at home, naturally, in Northern California. My greatest accomplishment. Forty-eight hours of labor to produce a healthy, aware, human being. Three of the next 5 births were natural, no drugs. The remaining two were assisted by a c-section, but labor was without drugs.

Death—my sister and I undertook a labor of love to attend the funeral of a favorite aunt. In the inexorably trudge through life, it seems odd to write about death with gratitude. It’s a mystery. And I’ve come to feel curious about it rather than afraid. Yes, I am afraid still. There is so much to learn and in this instance, I gained valuable information that I can share with younger relatives.

While on a sundown walk last Friday, my nephew began asking me questions about our family history. Sadly, I don’t have much information about my paternal relatives. He wanted to know things like “how did Papaw and Grams ever get together? They were such opposite personalities.” I actually knew the answer to that, because my mom had told me many years ago. She married my dad because he was the first man to ever say “no” to her. Silly reason, I know. It made sense, though. She was a spoiled princess who bewitched every man who laid eyes on her. My dad was a challenge. A curiosity to her. The marriage finally dissolved, but their lives were entwined even after they divorced.

My parents were civil rights leaders in the deep south and in Texas back in the ‘40’s and ‘50s. That’s saying a lot. My nephew wanted to know more about my dad’s family origins to understand how they thought about major social issues, especially racism. What happened, what thinking was involved that resulted in including black people into the family bloodline? Especially in the Texas of that time?

I only had assumptions and misty impressions from childhood. By the time I was aware of my paternal grandparents, she was blind, and my grandfather was taciturn. I don’t remember hearing him utter more than a dozen words during the short time I knew him. By that time, he was worn out from a life of hard-scrabble farming, failure, and pain. He more than likely was already suffering the onset of the leukemia that finally killed him. I remember him as a dour rock of a man. Not scary; rather monolithic. Not cold—enduring.

My sister and I drove to a small town just southwest of Ft. Worth. North Texas has enjoyed considerably more rain than central Texas, and it was like driving into the land of Oz. Rain, which we haven’t seen in over 9 months. We were bedazzled.

Met up with an older cousin, my closest connection to our grandparents. She has some awesomely cool stories about our grandmother, but had never talked about granddaddy.

She totally reversed lifelong assumptions I’d had about my grandfather. I expected to hear that ghe was the stereotypical Texas racist and misogynist. Instead, she glowingly painted a portrait of a man who loved and respected his wife and daughters, and that a day didn’t go by when he didn’t say that getting an education was the most important thing for them to do. Pretty cool feminist thinking in the 1930's.

He farmed cotton until ol’ Boll Weevil knocked Texas farmers flat in the 50’s and 60’s. He not only paid fair wages, he respected his neighbors, no matter their color. Besides, during the Great Depression, everyone was equal. It made good sense and good commerce to develop good relationships for the community to survive.

Grandaddy died when I was seven, and since we lived out of state, we didn't have much opportunity to get to know him. He was always sweet to us, but just too exhausted to relate much. We had lots of cousins and aunts and uncles to keep us busy. Chinaberry fights, hunting rattlesnakes in the arroyos that formed in the last big drought in the 50’s, gathering eggs, feeding chickens, fishing for crawdads...we always had great fun when we did get to visit.

This story makes me so happy and grateful, especially for our children. They need to know that their great-great-grandad was a decent, hard-working, compassionate, wise, loving man; and to know that these values are present in their DNA, and that they can choose to improve as human beings. That’s an awesome gift. That’s what’s going to save the planet.

And may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest...

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Thu, 06 Oct 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Oh. Wow. Steve Jobs.

He is stardust. He changed the world. And right now, everyone is thinking about how he changed their life. I certainly am.

More than that, I'm sure I'm not the only one who got that lightning jolt reminder of our own mortality. How am I grokking life through the gifts this man gave us? Am I making this world a better place for anyone?

Jobs gave me 21st century tools to help me explore my dreams. I have the capacity to create anything. That is freaking awesome.

Personally, I think he should get the Nobel Peace Prize for hooking us all up.

This man put a phenomenal tool in the hands of my 18 month old grand niece. She gets it. She's learning crazy amounts of stuff on it. It's no big deal to her. She's busy living a creative little life way beyond mere gadgets. (Disclaimer: both parents work for Apple and wisely supervise her use.) At the other end of the scale, it's more and more common to see folks much older than I wailing away on iDevices. Communication tools. That can be used for the common good.

I have a modest history with Apple. I was around in the mid-80's when Apple installed the first computer lab on campus at UT. My first office Mac was a sweet little '88 model with which I administered Princeton Pro Musica while in Jersey. I finally got my very own Mac in '94 Australia. Poured the paradoxical two-year long death throes of a marriage while living in paradise into that tiny box.

Periodically updated Macs were with me through my last, lengthy university career. Tons of writing, editing, photography, Web and information design, learning, teaching. A happy discovery--Apple's education folks are super cool, supportive, and quite generous to educators. Many thanks to those good people.

At long last, I have my dream Macbook Pro, thanks to a righteous parting gift from my (Much Better) Ex, along with the university employee discount. Steve Jobs made it possible for me to have crazy fun banging away at turning decades of dreams into something good for the planet, I hope...while there's still time.

Bon voyage, Steve.

Retirement: Doing the Media Mash - 9/1/10-9/1/11

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 04:36:00 +0000

Whoa. What a year. The I Ching told me it furthers one to find helpers, and I did. More important, I was on a steep learning curve to convert skills from university to private business. Too bad I couldn't have stayed on a little longer to maximize my financial needs, but themz the breaks, yo. I need all the energy I can muster to get something together that will make everyone's life better.

In spite of the near stroke last year, I am confident that this morning's annual physical results will be better than last year. Poor me back then. Healthier me right now. For openers, diastolic was down 20 pts. Cool, huh? Body is shaking down, but in decent shape, when it ever does cool down and the smoke isn't too bad, I'll get back to walking.

Politics. It's a shambles. I do know a bully when I see one. I do know when someone does not have my best interests at heart. I know lies. I cannot abide bullies. I may even volunteer for someone or something, haven't decided yet. I did get through this record heat without cutting my hair, so I'm still on track for Locks of Love.

Life's work. Courtesy of Johnny B. Truant and the awesome Natalie, whose sharp eyes caught what would have been a tragi/comic error of epic proportions, I now have a Web site. Not ready for public consumption, of course, but it's my newest, biggest, greatest, shiniest sandbox! It's like finally having a bicycle after riding a tricycle for-ever.

After a summer of wildfires and no rain in Texas, earthquakes, floods, tornados, slow, wet hurricanes, and ice melt, I can confidently welcome you to the Wacky World of Unsettled Climate Change. Seeing that bare system sit on top of us for the last six months is a portrait in despair for those living in it, and defiance for those who deny it. Folks, I've lived long enough to be able to say that this may have happened time and time again in the history of the universe, but do not doubt that it is happening right now. The face of America is changing as grotesquely as a botched Hollywood cosmetic surgery. We will have to learn how to live in it. It won't be the same.

For one thing, education is paramount in a healthy civilization. Wars, not so much. Not at all. If we don't educate our children, we will regress as a species. We have too many tricky-ass problems to face and we need everyone thinking about solutions rather than aggression. I am so ashamed for the state I live in that we are ranked #49. That's out of 50. How can we let this happen?

Which brings me to call a spade a spade. Rick Perry is a huge danger to women, children, and the infirm. Can't go there right now. No sense courting a stroke. On the other hand, I am not 100% Obama at the moment. What I would most love is to see a strong, savvy, compassionate, intelligent person no matter what party who could wake everybody up. In a good, peaceful way. Not abandon them in time of need. I deeply resent the MSM for misleading us, slanting "news" to a political agenda.

Which brings me to social media. Once I finally got my goals straight, I next had to decide how much time I would dedicate to which platform(s). FaceBook was a good fit for me for a lot of reasons. The latest change, however, has gravely damaged my daily flow of information. It is making it harder to access one of my more enjoyable and useful networks, especially since I have an old phone and difficulty texting.

Tiny buttons, tiny type, tiny anything online is the Kiss of Death. Yeah, I have an iPod that I can rock out on a little bit, but it hurts my eyes if I use it too long. I can't afford an iPad, although most every dang member of my family DOES have one, so I'm more than loving on an iPad. I use it a lot while babysitting my grandniece. Who is right over there<--. Just sayin', everyone I know who can afford iPads allow their kids supervised play with them. When a 16 month old child can repeat the opening four bars of a toy playing "Ode to Joy," at exactly the same pitch and tempo, I can't wait to see how this plays out.

I am working with some wonderful writerly women. I had an idea to interview each of them over the next six months to talk about their individual and group writing journeys. Stay tuned.

WriteGirl is my new favorite word. So is wonderbubble.

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 18:38:00 +0000

My friend Colleen Wainwright, the indomitable Communicatrix, will soon be fifty years of age. Colleen has mounted a wonderbubbly righteous birthday celebration that will change many lives for the better.

Colleen Wainwright with two of the L.A. WriteGirls

The 50 for 50 Project to benefit WriteGirl

Colleen thought it would be just wonderbubble to raise $50,000 (that's right, a grand for each decade) to benefit WriteGirl:

WriteGirl is a nonprofit organization for high school girls centered on the craft of creative writing and empowerment through self-expression. Through one-on-one mentoring and monthly workshops, girls are given techniques, insights and hot tips for great writing in all genres from professional women writers.

Here's an awesome video of the woman herself to tell you all about it.

If she successfully raises $50,000, Colleen will publicly shave her head on her birthday, September 13. And it seems that a good many folks in L.A. and on the internets are more than happy to pony up to witness and/or participate in the shearing. It promises to be her most outstanding performance to date.

Colleen has committed to writing 50 blog posts, tweeting, e-mailing, interviewing stellar writers, burning up the telephone lines...oh, wait...I'm showing my own age—to achieve her goal. She’s creating prodigious amounts of associated penwomanship--videos, writing tips, impromptu performances, and talks. A gob-stopping donation of time and energy. In addition, she's gathered a suite of goodies and services from insanely creative friends. Check out "The Writer's Motto," rendered into an x-rated Sisyphus-evoking cross-stitch by Bee Franck. Did I mention she is one of the above-mentioned professional women writers who volunteers to work with the girls f2f?

Colleen is a most wonderbubbliciously generous person. And all her wonderbubble people are responding to her generosity with love and coin--as of a few minutes ago, she's a little over half way to ringing the bell.

There are only 28 days to help her raise the other half. Wouldn't it be a total gas to gift Colleen with MORE than $50,000 for the girls? Can you imagine the sheer awesomeness of creating the next generation of wonderbubble women writers?

The WriteGirl IndieGoGo site will tell you all about the Party of the Half Century and how you can help. Go take a look. It will warm your heart and give you hope. Colleen says even tiny donations make a huge difference. It’s all about getting the word out. While you're at it, subscribe to Communicatrix to find her awesome stuff in your inbox. If you're a Facebooker (thanks, Michael Cooper!), like the "50 for 50" page.

Most wonderbubble of all is the courageous, caring, gifted/giving, formidable Colleen Wainwright herself.

Happy Birthday, Colleen. Thank you for making the world a better place--especially for the girls. Can't wait to see what you come up with for your 60th! It will be wonderbubble, for sure.

Put out to pasture

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 02:50:00 +0000

I always knew this day would come. I've been dreading it for a long time, and even wrote about it here four years ago. I am still a musician, nothing can change that. But an aging body will eventually betray you.

I'm still processing the last three months--trying to maintain my dignity, self-confidence, and at the same time, keep my eyes and ears open for the next creative door to open.

Can I tell you how much I hate auditions? I've done scores of them. Not counting nine years of multiple juries, semester after semester, instrument after instrument, voice. There is nothing as nerve-wracking as going in front of a group of hyper-judgmental people all by yourself. To me, that's the definition of fear.

Not to be confused with performing. There is a huge difference. When performing, you're in flow. You are channeling the music to your audience, most of whom want to hear it. In a jury or audition, you are in wicked competition for grades, chairs, entry, with hordes of other musicians.

I'm more prone to nerves, or stage-fright when that "business" side of music shows up. I fully realize that it's necessary, and I have no excuses for blowing it. I can even acknowledge that any musical group that's worth its salt deserves to have the best voices/players they can get. It furthers classical music in general, and that's a very, very good thing.

It still hurts, right down into my soul. I know the music, I hear it, but my voice is no longer as supple, as fluid as it once was. Allergies and asthma cut down on my lung capacity, and I'm not able to get those long, long phrases out. I won't quit singing altogether, I still get paying gigs and invitations for various concerts. Just won't be singing with my long-time group.

I'm beginning a new six-month Pathfinder project, which will be a very welcome creative endeavor. I have a Web site on order and need to spend time figuring out what I want to do with it. I have many new friends, writing buddies, and supporters from the World Changing Writing Workshop, and I'm still involved with 52 Weeks to Awesome. Lots of writing to keep me occupied. And certainly an amazing, supportive family.

At the end of this month I will have been retired for one year. I made it. Just barely, but I made it.

Surviving the 2011 Texas drought

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 06:52:00 +0000

Out of curiosity, I went back through Yesterday's Papers and discovered that if I posted at all in the summer, it was about record breaking heat. Summer 2010 was killer in many ways, including record heat, but I wasn't posting much. 2009 heat links here, here, and here. 2008 here and here. An unusually wet 2007, and a hot 2006.

This year's heat put us in extreme drought. Wildlife get desperate and vicious looking for food and water. There's nothing out there.

Varmints get hit hard. The heat kills smaller animals like birds and squirrels outright. Raccoons, coyotes, opossums and other furry and feral critters bring bumper crops of fleas and sometimes rabies right to your back door. Cool woodpiles, houses, sheds are hideouts for rattlesnakes, scorpions and spiders as well.

Raccoons are fun to watch but disastrously destructive. They can rip the siding off a house, get in the attic and shut you down, kill any smaller critter. Screen doors are no problemo for them.

Dozens of brush fires flare daily across Texas. Several of them nearby. Walked across the yard tonight and the grass was crunchy.

My aging body doesn't do well with this much heat for this long, not to mention higher utility costs. Poor Linus came in one night looking like he was loaded on something, falling over, eyes all weird, forgetting what he was doing. Most likely chomped on a toad. They're attracted by A/C runoff water, any place that might be damp.

Some friends lost a dog to a rattlesnake this week, even with a dose of antivenin. Dog -> Jack Russell terrier-sized. Rattler -> 5 feet long, with a 10 button rattle. No contest.

I've been entertaining a lot of "what ifs." What if the drought doesn't break? What if we are SOL? Drought is a constant way of life in many countries around the world. What if I were a mother in a land with no water? I can hardly imagine it. Staggering numbers of people, mostly children dying of famine. Apart from the humanitarian aspect, simply physically enduring that extreme environment is incomprehensible.

So what can I do about it?

Can't take water to Africa, but I can help trap and neuter some of our feral cats and take them out to our friends' now dogless farm to keep the vermin under control.
Relocate the 2 adult and 5 baby raccoons waaaaaay outta town.
Use as little water as possible.
Set the thermostat a couple of degrees warmer.
All the little conservation tricks and habits of four decades.
Pay attention to how far off the path we are.
Look for solutions instead of aggregating wealth and power.
Individually and collectively.
Reward innovation.
Allow change to happen.
Educate.
Drink a quart of water before going out.
Wear sunscreen, long sleeves, UV resistant clothing and eye shades.
Remember that the sun is brutal mid-day, but the temperature peaks later.
Keep animals indoors or in total shade with plenty of water and food.
Don't leave ANYTHING living or meltable in a car, especially people and pets.
Keep a gallon of drinkable water in the car, plus refillable bottle.
Talk to people.
Read the science and read some more.
Protect your children. Get them UV resistant bathing suits and hats--don't rely on sunscreen alone.
Read this.

What would you add?

Writing. Sit down and do it.

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 04:49:00 +0000

Writing notebooks dating from the '60's. Write your stuff when, where, how you can. Ask for help when you need it. Keep reading and learning. Seek out other writers who are close to your path. The I Ching says it furthers to find a great teacher. You will find many. Practice Makes Possible.

These are just the poems and stories that made it to a word processor. There are stacks and stacks of handwritten queries, words, phrases, scribbled on the backs of concert posters, envelopes, spiral-bounds, ticket stubs, receipts, anything that will take graphite or ink. It's my compost heap.

I am a Procrastinator. If I can do it, anyone can. You can grow your own process.

Writing. Boston to Austin.

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 04:03:00 +0000

Downtown Boston looking pretty good. View of the recently renovated green over the tunnel.

This is about writing. Overcoming whatever obstacles to get the words down. Simply playing with words. Using them as building materials to tell your stories. That's it.

In several writing classes, I've noticed that a lot of folks have trouble getting started. I do too, sometimes. The trick is to go with the ebb and flow, you write what you can when you can.

Came across the best advice for parents of children who write. Outstanding for the inner child, as well. If we all treated ourselves this way, we could actually change something. And then write some more.

My writing ebbs and flows. I sometimes resist it. Fear rushes in where fools dare to tread. To mangle a metaphor. I keep writing. That's all that matters.

I came across a notebook from a La Zona Rosa workshop with Rosemary Daniell dated 1.27.07. The prompt was "You can no longer deny..." I wrote of my frustration with not finding/making more time to write my own stuff. Also blogged about it. I was paid to write, edit, et al, all day. Academorporate Speak. I had a bad taste in my mouth, writerly-wise. The upshot is that the act of sitting down, focusing, and knocking out anything AT FREAKING ALL about my own resistance to sitting down and writing something that was important to me, and how I came up with ideas to work through my tendency to procrastinate, was pretty danged awesome.

Four years later, I am refreshed by the fact that I've been actively writing for decade after decade. I find that it's a little easier finding a few moments to just get some of that stuff down that's bouncing around in my head, even if it's only red ink in a composition book. Give your Future Self the gift of You Right Now. You never know what blinding insights you'll receive from Your Very Own Self.

Tell your stories. No matter who does or does not read them. That's the Connection.

Boston to Austin, aka Retirement Month Nine/Ten

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 07:04:00 +0000

Shenandoah Valley. From Skyline Drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway. There's an Eastern Bluebird trilling in the trees on the right.

What a ride. Six and a half days. Fly north, drive south. Excellent adventure. Well, after a crappy American Airlines experience. Sister is taking care of that. I was just along for the ride. Once we got to Boston, the rest of the trip was amazing.

Things I learned:

Take nothing for granted. Double check everything. When your sister thinks you should do something, like, I dunno, check in on-line the day before...do it. Without question.
There's sometimes a fine line between inner repose and system shutdown. The trick is to trust your instinct and choose the healthy step.
It's a good thing to be with friends when loved ones are lost, and at the same time, celebrate their lives. Celebrate all beginnings and endings.
It's also a good thing to be with friends with new babies! Always!
Compassion is a great healer for everyone involved.
Nothing soothes a drought-dried soul like wet earth and green, growing things.
Hog maw and creamed chicken on waffles are acceptable breakfast, lunch, or dinner fare in some parts.

Electronic devices on hand: 1 laptop, 2 iPads, 1 iPhone, 1 iPad Touch, 1 Blackberry, & 2 non-smart cell phones. It was so relaxing to get away from the grid for a while...well, after a last round of Plants vs. Zombies. For the night. Or checking e-mail. Or Facebook (for me--other 2 abhor Facebook).

It will be a year come August 31 that I retired. It's been the most jam-packed year yet. Overflowing with fear, joy, gratitude, fun, progress, growth, sorrow, understanding, revelation, pain, pleasure, failure, success, contraction and expansion, and ripping adventure. Who could ask for anything more?

Heat records fall as temps skyrocket in Texas

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 06:22:00 +0000

East Germany countryside. Cool and wet. Exactly the way I want to be.

It's bad, folks. The Arizona fire has spread to New Mexico. We're losing our southwestern forests.

West Texas is burning. Every day, two to three new wildfires pop up all over Texas. No rain to even the odds.

So on top of the record-breaking triple digit heat, we have smoke. A hazy pall that's been accumulating for many months now. The desert-dry wind stirs it up, but it doesn't leave.

No rain to wash it out. None to keep the wild critters alive. I so hate it when it gets so hot and dry the birds walk around with their beaks open--too dry to close them.

Speaking of skyrockets, Austin's Fourth of July celebration has been cancelled due to extreme weather conditions. No fireworks, no orchestra at Auditorium Shores this year. Thank all the gods and goddesses for banning high-flying burning objects in our present tinderbox of a state. I shudder to think of how much of Austin would burn to ashes. Nor should 75 musicians have to swelter in concert black, fight the wind to keep the scores on the stands, and sit in uncomfortable chairs, in the dark...don't even think about the traffic and parking.

I've been into weather since I can remember. When I was a kid, it thrilled me, excited me. Even when lightning struck the utility pole I was standing in a puddle right next to. When our family outraced a tornado coming up over the hill.

I was convinced in 1970 that the US was already beyond squandering natural resources, corporations poisoned the water, air, and earth to profit greedy bad guys. No one was doing much of anything to fix it.

Now, the weather makes me afraid. I'm old enough to have seen weather patterns change exponentially. I don't need the stats, I've experienced it. And it is ramping up. El Nino and La Nina models are breaking up. A few other countries are doing what they can to fix it. The US, certainly one of the top three greatest polluters on earth, continues to rape the environment with impunity.

Living in Australia for two years opened my eyes to what life is like under the hole in the ozone. Excessive, dangerous radiation. Lots of cancer. Lots of UVA/B resistant clothing and accessories. Lots of awareness. And the hole is growing. You don't have to call it Global Warming. Something IS happening, however, and we'd best get to it.

It's 1:02 a.m. Our local Austin weather champions cautiously hold out the first chance for rain in half a year. We're under a severe thunderstorm warning. Some of us will get less than an inch, most won't.

Thunder! Rain! Yes! Solstice! Night of the Long Dance. Time to run outside and dance in the rain!

Inspired by SARK

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 21:12:00 +0000

Wow. Just spent some time listening to an amazing writer and artist talking about framing the act of writing as a delight rather than a chore. A lot of empowering information and techniques--the one that jumped out at me is to establish an inner care system that gives your inner critic(s) a job to do to keep them occupied while you write. A great cure for those kinds of internal nagging distractions.

I've seen the technique before; however, this is the first time I've ever tried it. Havi Brooks of The Fluent Self regularly talks to her "monsters," and you can see enlightenment unfold before your very eyes.

In SARK's game, the first step is to empower and activate an inner "wise self" to support you. You then invite an aspect (specific inner critic) of yourself that's causing you pain or anxiety into a safe circle with your wise self. Initiate an interview with the aspect that needs attention, then listen and respond to what it says.

Here's what happened:

Me: Hi, there. Would you like to come sit with me and Wise Self?

Scared self: I dunno. Why do you want to talk to me?

Me: Because I feel like you're yelling at me, crowding me, and trying to take over.

Scared self: Well, duh! I have to make sure you're not going to get hurt!

Me: So you are concerned about me being in pain?

Scared self: Of course I am! It HURTS! And I don't want you to hurt.

Me: Wow. You are soooo strong. You really must want to protect me.

Scared self: Yes! I do! You've had enough pain in your life. I have to keep it away from your door.

Me: What if I were to tell you that I've learned things from my pain, things that mean a lot to me. Things that help me not be so frightened or hurt?

Scared self: Well, I guess that's good. But I still don't want you to hurt because you're writing about it.

Me: What if I could actually ENJOY writing about the good things I've learned from pain?

Scared self: Would that mean that you don't need me any more?

Me: Oh, no! I will always need and cherish your support and protection. But sometimes I think I can put some stuff out there that will definitely make me feel better, and might just help someone else feel better.

Scared self: Does that mean you won't listen to me ever again?

Me: Oh, absolutely not. I need you to be here to help me watch out for UNNECESSARY pain. Like when I feel afraid of things that can't really hurt me. Like when I let other people determine how I "should" feel.

Scared self: Like when I yell really loudly when someone says things about you that aren't even true?

Me: Yes! Sometimes you're so loud that it hurts my ears!

Scared self: Oh, no! I don't want to hurt you!

Me: Hey, Scared self, have you ever met Wise Self?

Scared self: Oh, I've seen her around. I don't know what good she is, though.

Me: She's just like you, she doesn't want to see me get hurt.

Scared self: That's good. How does she do that?

Me: Well, she's really, really smart. She wants me to succeed. She helps me think through problems. She helps me feel more powerful. She likes me a lot And she really likes you a lot.

Scared self: She does?

Me: Yes. She likes you so much she wants to work with you to help keep me even safer.

Scared self: She DOES? Even when I yell and hurt your ears?

Me: Especially when you do that. As a matter of fact, she has an idea for both of us.

Scared self: Oh, yeah? Uh, hi, Wise Self.

Wise self: Scared self, how would you feel about having a little more fun protecting Me?

Scared self: OK, I guess. What would I have to do?

Wise self: What about instead of yelling at Me you talk to the thing that's causing pain?

Scared self: Like, shouting, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Wise self: That sounds pretty good. How would that make you feel?

Scared self: I would feel like I was chasing the hurt away.

Wise self: Instead of shouting, would you be willing to talk to the pain and find out if it truly wants to hurt Me? That would help Me learn more about herself as well as protect her.

Scared self: I don't know about that. I've never interviewed pain before. I don't know if I could get close enough to it.

Wise self: We could practice in here, where it's safe. We could talk to the pain through a window, maybe. It couldn't come in, but we could have a cozy little chat.

Scared self: Could we have tea and bikkies?

Me: Ooooh, that sounds delightful!

Scared self: Really? You wouldn't be more scared?

Me: Not if you and Wise Self were sitting with me. We could ask the pain all kinds of questions and find out whether it really means to hurt me or not, and see if we could learn something from it. Even see if we could have a little fun with it. Maybe even ask it to join us, if it promises to behave. And then we could brew a cuppa Dimbula Oolong and get some buttery bikkies and have a Real Tea Party!

Scared self: OK, I'm beginning to like this. I don't feel so much like yelling at you now that I know you and Wise Self love you and want you to be happy and productive.

Me: That would be the very best thing in the world you could do to keep me safe. Thank you so much for visiting. I'll get you a comfy armchair to relax in by the window so you can talk to any pain that might show up before it can overpower me. Would you like that?

Scared self: Yes! Yes, I would! As long as the tea and bikkies are within reach, that is!

Me: Great! Just let me know when you need a refill!

I am not alone. Thanks, Susan Ariel Rainbow Kennedy, thanks, Pace and Kyeli, thanks Havi!

Will Taylor: Burning "bad" violins to bring music to Texas foster kids

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 05:29:00 +0000

Photo courtesy Will Taylor

This is one of the most unusual benefits ever, by one of the most unique music groups ever. My friend Will Taylor and Strings Attached will burn BAD violins on Friday night, April 29 at Nutty Brown Cafe to bring awareness to National Child Abuse Prevention Month, and Kids In a New Groove. KING provides musical instruments and instruction for Texas children in foster care. Will is donating part of the profits from his Classic Rock Weekend concert series to KING, and promoting the donation of playable instruments to the non-profit program.

Emphasis is placed on burning BAD (unplayable) violins in order to gain resources to purchase or prompt the donation of decent, playable instruments. After taking music lessons for 30+ years, and teaching music for 45+ years, I can attest to the importance of having an instrument that works and can stay in tune. Check out Will's Facebook page for LOTS more information.

The healing power of music is well documented. Next to family, music is certainly the most important thing in my life. It has comforted me through death, illness, divorce, isolation, heartache, and is absolutely THE best high in the universe. I've been contemplating getting a tattoo for many years now. The only reason I don't already have one is because I could never settle on what I wanted. Why is that relevant to this post? Because my niece recently got a gorgeous one (from Tattoo Bob) that states in super delicate/elegant script "Music is the lamb that made a lion out of me." That prompted me just a scant two weeks ago to finally commit. As serendipity would have it, my choice is "Music heals," in the same script. So tonight I get this message from Will about Kids in a New Groove. See how that wacky chord resolves?

Will has carved a truly dynamic niche in the overloaded Austin music scene. A classical and jazz violinist and violist, Will writes, performs, and records groovy string arrangements of various musical genres, in collaboration with local and nationally renowned musicians. He just completed House of Wills, featuring the music of Willie Nelson, in the style of Bob Wills. The Friday concert at Nutty Brown rocks the music of Led Zeppelin, and a Classic Rock Retrospective (think Beatles, Stones, Hendrix, and Stevie Wonder!) hits the Continental Club on Saturday, April 30.

This is all happening as we speak. Will is a Master of Momentum. He picks up on an idea and builds creative flow through networking and social media that appeals to broad musical audiences while promoting good causes. In this case, within a very brief time frame!

I met Will about 10 years ago at St. David's Episcopal Church here in Austin through David Stevens, tenor extraordinaire and St. David's Music Director. I was hanging out waiting for a rehearsal to begin, and Will was feverishly copying string parts for an early Strings Attached project. I could tell even back then that he was headed for greatness. Sure 'nuff!

So it is my pleasure to get this project in front of all my friends, especially those of you who 1) want to hear some very cool music, 2) would get off on watching a pile of violins burn, 3) are Zeppelin fans, 4) can donate playable music instruments to Kids in a New Groove, 5) can volunteer music instruction for KING.

Kids In a New Groove is going to hear from me very soon...and I'm calling Tattoo Bob tomorrow. Of course, I'm still facing the dilemma of WHERE to place it. I think this one needs to be in a visible location. Any suggestions, y'all? I may even bust out of my hermit shell to go watch those violins burn!

Earth Day, 2011 aka Retirement Month: Seven/Eight aka 52 Weeks

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Sat, 23 Apr 2011 00:54:00 +0000

The Bromeliad I got when I began 52 Weeks to Awesome is still alive! And that's Awesome!

I distinctly remember where I was on the first Earth Day in 1970. Topanga Canyon, a mild, sunny day; listening to the coverage on NPR and thinking how great it was to be a gypsy musician hanging out in the canyons loving the Earth. It was also in 1970 that a wildfire threatened our little canyon which prompted one of my earliest-published poems. That might be putting too grandiose a cover on it--it was a college underground newspaper. Ah, the 70's. Especially after those heady 60's.

And that somehow brings me to fear. The universe has thrown some clear directions to pay attention. People I trust have blogged about fear. 52 Weeks is into fear evolving into self-trust. Ryan talked about it and we sang about it last Friday and Saturday. Mark Silver, Havi Brooks, shoot, a big stack of writers are talking about it in this particular nexus of time.

The hard fact is that we have not been treating our Mother Earth or Our Own Sweet Selves very well at all. I look back in my mind's eye to 1970 and the urgent destruction we knew we were headed for. Forty-one years later and I despair for the time we've lost. I never dreamed back then that we would let it get this bad. Let Earth Day remind us that we need to take care of our earth's resources, including ourselves, every day.

The fear thing. Looking back through the Retirement posts, I'm reminded of what stark terror feels like. And have gained the space to be curious about it. Examine it. See what I can find out or learn about it. And if it's not working for me, banish it. Poof.

Here it is post-tax day and I'm not a bag lady. So what if Teacher Retirement and Social Security don't even cover monthly expenses? Working smaller gigs has been fun rather than work, so no complaints about that. Not to mention meeting new people, which always sparks my brain. I can finally let go of that ghastly vision of me pushing a grocery cart under the bridges and along the creeks of Austin, living with the stray cats and dogs. Yeah, I really thought I'd end up that way. Not this year, though.

Kyeli (as we begin Module the Second of 52 Weeks to Awesome in which we learn to work through fear (!) and trust ourselves), reminded me of mindfulness, talking about hurting her knee and having to slow down a bit. Running a cognitive behavioral thought record through when that old fear creeps up my back. Is this a familiar or even a friendly fear? when I get that gut feeling that I should absolutely NOT do something...but I do it anyway, and learn, once again, that we ignore our instincts at our own risk.

If we've already come to some agreement, I just smile, wave, and move on. I can go incognito and walk around a new fear for quite some time, just hanging in a safe place, watching. That's what I was doing with this bag lady fear, until folks started showing up with new ways to think about and deal with fear. Bam, bam, bam, one right after another.

Singing about it was surely the most helpful this time around. Yeah, life is messy, all stuck together with wars and greedy, uncaring people and governments. Flow with it. Turn whatever you touch into the most hopeful, compassionate experience you can. Sunday's concert took place right across the street from the ACC-Pinnacle wildfire. I could look out the entryway and see the plumes of smoke rising overhead. I felt not one pang of panic--not one iota of distraction. Oddly enough, I think I was inspired to sing even better. Pumping healing vibrations and hopeful words directly into the fire, along with the helicopters overhead dumping flame retardant.

I have been through wildfires. You don't live in SoCal or Australia or Texas or any other dry environment without them running into you. So in a mangled way, my head mashed fear, wildfires, Earth Day, nostalgia, music, retirement, and a bunch of bright bloggers all into one messy post.

Speaking of messes, The Great Unmessing of 2011 is galloping along, thanks to Bonnie. Fifteen + boxes emptied, car packed full of stuff to give away, rough plans for space usage, the rugs are even washed. I am loving it big time. Next project: take photos of stuff, both to sell and to archive. So many projects...

It's also sparked me to go walkies around the neighborhood. Awesome.

The Randy Dude stats--read them and be totally awed.

AVAE concerts--R.I.P. composer Lee Hoiby

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 19:54:00 +0000

Contemporary composer Lee Hoiby passed away recently. I was privileged to meet Mr. Hoiby at a Chorus America convention in the late 1980's. Performed his Shakespearean songs with Princeton Pro Musica, a lovely collection. PPM also performed his oratorio Galileo Galilei. Composers frequently give away music samples, and I picked up a couple more of his songs at other Chorus America conferences.

From the NYT obit:

In recent years he turned toward choral works, including “The Christmas Tree” and “Last Letter Home,” set to a note written by a soldier before his death in Iraq.

More about "Last Letter Home" from NewMusicBox:

There is an exceptional quality of emotional immediacy in Lee's music that can be disarming to some, but that never fails to move even the most jaded listener. When Lee threw himself into writing Last Letter Home, which sets a poignant text written by the fallen American soldier Jesse Givens in Iraq, the music could have easily veered towards maudlin sentimentality or kitsch in the hands of a lesser composer. Not, however, in the hands of a master like Lee Hoiby. Instead, Lee produced a deeply felt, rigorously composed harmonic masterpiece for a cappella men's chorus. Following the premiere and repeat performances, the letters poured in. Rarely had I seen such a flood of comments from listeners and performers. Listener after listener, performer after performer wrote to Lee to remark on his "beautiful, singable, and deeply moving" setting. The work has since gone on to be performed countless times and in various versions for mixed chorus, solo baritone and piano, and chorus with orchestra.

The Austin Vocal Arts Ensemble will perform "Last Letter Home" as part of the "War and Peace" concerts at 8:00 p.m. Friday, April 15, Hope Presbyterian Church, 11512 Olson Drive in Austin; and 3:00 p.m. Sunday, April 17, Oak Hill United Methodist Church, 7815 Highway 290 West in Oak Hill.

Also on the concert are selections from Figure Humaine by Francis Poulenc, and the stunning "Suite" de Lorca by Finnish composer Rautavaara. This piece was indelibly branded in my ear/brain when I heard the formidable Dale Warland Singers perform it at one of the above-mentioned Chorus America conventions. It shook my bones, especially "El Grito," (mp3) which is one of the most hair-raising pieces I've ever heard OR performed. The only other piece that comes close is the Wolf's Glen scene from Der Freischutz (Carl Maria von Weber), which I performed with PPM/Opera Orchestra of New York at Carnegie Hall and Richardson Hall (Princeton Univ.).

Austin Vocal Arts Ensemble, along with the San Gabriel Chorale, will present the Brahm's Requiem as part of the Georgetown Festival of the Arts at 4:00 p.m. on Sunday, June 5 at the Alma Thomas Theatre on the campus of Southwestern University. Put it on your calendar NOW. Here's a performance by UC Davis, featuring a friend of mine, David Arnold, as baritone soloist:

Chant. Enchant. Enchanting.

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Tue, 29 Mar 2011 17:26:00 +0000

If I ever get a tattoo, it will be "Music heals" in ultra-fine script. Sounds of chant. Buddhist, Catholic, Muslim, most all the sacred music in the world is based in the human voice repeating sounds. Impressing. Learning. Healing. Enchanting.

Vibrant is another word that comes to mind. As in lovely vibrations. Tuning the body, the earth, the universe. Alive.

This newly bipedal enchantress took her first steps this weekend. It's a whole new ballgame.

Life just gets more awesome every day.

Motoring in Texas

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Sat, 12 Mar 2011 03:57:00 +0000

Mi Tierra, San Antonio, TX

Appears that a goodly portion of Austin truck owners are trading them in for Green cars. The gas price hit gas-guzzlers big. My Kia took $52 to fill. Seriously thinking alternative transportation. It's a huge honking shame that Austin doesn't have a better public trans environment. Too little thinking ahead back in the 60's and 70's, and a little too freaking late in 2011 to be snatching back our rights. Which have slowly been eaten away.

Well, we said it would happen, and it still is.

Speaking of education, or the lack thereof, what immediately spooks me is that on a perfectly good Friday afternoon, the Austin Public Libraries in my immediate vicinity were closed. CLOSED!

That's alarming for so many reasons on so many levels:

Writers are particularly voracious readers, usually poor.
Libraries are particularly fabulous family activities, especially on weekends and early evening.
School library resources are dwindling.
We HAVE to keep reading and writing, we're already beginning to lose our language.

Scary.

And a shout-out to all my pals at SXSW interactive *waving*!

Retirement: Month Six, or Spring in February

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 20:17:00 +0000

The Divine Miss M. Soaking up the sun in @80 degree, clear weather. Cedar has all popped, elm and ash are releasing pollens.

Airedale terriers are all nose, hard head, and lanky bodies. Very intelligent, affectionate, perpetually cheerful. At least Mahalia is. Her brother is a little more somber. They have fenced-in space to roam, and chat frequently with the local coyotes, dogs, and other critters.

Airedales have only the one wiry coat, no fluffy undercoat like other breeds. Thus less strain on allergic individuals.

Not one, but TWO lovable noodniks.

This is Mr. T, which stands for Truro. As in Truro Lighthouse on Nantucket, where my b.i.l. proposed to my sister. He's a sweetheart. Noble dog. A most emphatic alarm clock. There is no sleeping when he wants out in the morning. LOUD bark.

Seclusion is extra nice with these two for company. Good to have a break from town noise, as well. No cars, planes, gizmos, whatevers. None. Nothing but warbling, trilling birds, snuffling armadillos, clattery raccoons, whuffling deer, the wind in the trees. The odd chickadee banging his little skull against a windowpane until I closed the blinds.

Good time to get my head back in gear. Come home to a clean house, thanks to thoughtful daughter, and make some solid organizational decisions. Stay ahead of the clutter and identify priorities to get projects going. Most of it still in my head, but closure on what the next step will be.

A plan is emerging, helped along by the healing passage of time. And space for a little serendipity to slide through the static. That's what I've been waiting for. Sloughing off enough stress to open a few windows in my head. Reaching out to my super-intelligent, helpful friends and associates for ideas and the latest info.

Things I've learned:

It takes much longer to adjust than I expected. I was literally shell-shocked for the first three months at least. Plowing through the various bureaucracies takes information I didn't have, or even know I had to have, before finding myself drowning in it.
Years of simple living were worth it. I don't spend any more money than I have to. My only luxuries are Netflix and the occasional meal out. My five-year-old car has less than 22,500 miles--two more payments and it's MINE! That means one less area to deal with.
Debt management won't hurt you, and really pays off. Probably the smartest thing I ever did. Even though I originally planned to have it all paid off by the time I retired, one year of debt at a reduced income is better than the fiasco it could have become.
Forgiveness is easier the more you practice it. I am sure that reduced stress levels have much to do with any progress in this area.
The first person you need to forgive is yourself. Everything flows from this. Crazy amounts of reprogramming self perception.

Baby steps. One day at a time. Do at least one nice thing for myself every day. Builds into a body of work, a healthier habit, a more relaxed, more forgiving perspective. Smells a little like freedom.

Influenza Blues

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 02:20:00 +0000

So. It seems there is a rogue flu virus going around that wasn't included in the vaccine released for this season. You either get over it in 5-7 days or you develop a nasty secondary respiratory infection which, in my case, required 10 days of antibiotics and heavy-duty cough syrup. Bummer. Going on week 3 to recover. Produced more mucus in that time than in the rest of my life put together. Friends popping up all over Texas, at least, who also are having problems.

No energy, so have not been keeping up with my 52 Weeks. Or rehearsals. Totally lost my voice for four days, still hoarse.

In the Hill Country dog sitting and recuperating. Caught a sweet, modest sunset. And the dogs don't care that I sleep most of the time. Nor that I only half-heartedly throw sticks for them. Nor that I can't squeak out much more than an occasional "good doggie."

Tried to produce a musical sound and nothing came out. My vocal chords are non-functional. Was cautioned by a fellow singer to not even try to whisper, which actually puts more strain on them than singing. Rest is best, and mega-hydration.

My sis left healthy food and lots of fruit and veggie juices, so no problem there. And the view is still spectacular--nothing wrong with my eyes. Well, since the oozing stopped after day 3 of antibiotics. That's actually what sent me to the dr., along with the fact that I couldn't breathe, sleep, taste, eat, or otherwise exist.

So be aware! If you happen to get this flu, do not hesitate to go to your doctor if you aren't better within 5-7 days. It can really knock you down and put you out of commission for what seems like an overly long time.

And you may not be lucky enough to have a Hill Country retreat stocked with healthy food, satellite TV, wireless, hundreds of birds, coyotes, loads of other wild critters, and two trusty Airedales.

Retirement: Month Five

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 23:09:00 +0000

Yes, Virginia, it DOES snow in Austin...on occasion. Of course it doesn't last very long. We more frequently get sleet and ice, because it DOES get very cold--those Blue Northers are for real. 80 degrees during the day, down to 15-25 that night. Linus was not impressed with the snow--sat on a flattened cardboard box rather than in the cold wet and wanted back in the house after only a few minutes.

More importantly, January was a fun month! Got all my W-2s and 1099s, so I can do my taxes, and should get a return, even. Always a good thing!

And lots of time with grand-niece. It's such a joy watching her grow and gaining her trust.

Birthday celebrations abounded, always exciting. And my first visit from the cleaning service, which went a loooong way towards de-cluttering. Not as successful in converting our mom's interview tapes to CD--not all tech works the way it should. Looking for a more effective way to preserve all those great authors' responses to her incisive interview questions.

Down with a big, bad chest/head cold--shouldn't be flu, cause I got my flu shot.

Some tech worked: transferring all my writing from PC to Mac so I can work on stuff when away. Progress on creating an editing/writing/proofing Web site landing page as part of freelancing business. Meeting fascinating people and making contacts to move this project along. Changing auto insurance carriers and saving $900/yr. was a biggie. Even came with better coverage and more features.

Doing what I can to help colleagues out who got let go from UT. I'm happy to write recommendations, review cover letters, etc. for what it's worth. Celebrating when friends find new employment, commiserating when friends run into obstacles. Creative problem-solving.

Learning more about how to leverage social media, reaching more people. Still deciding what I really want to do when I grow up. My problem is that there is SO much I want to do, it's difficult to focus on only one or two options. Sometimes having lots of choices is more intimidating that having only a few.

Watching the CNN coverage of the Egyptian revolution. Wondering why more people aren't involved.

Next project--updating blog roll with all the new groovy people I'm meeting. If the weather lets up, am considering a trip to Port Aransas to see the whooping cranes--I've wanted to do that for decades! Now on to Awesomeness--self-introspection--some might say that I have an overabundance of that...

52 Weeks: #2

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 02:39:00 +0000

This week's mission was deceptively simple: accept yourself just the way you are. But oh, the unexpected knee-jerk resistance!

When I was younger, this was fairly easy--my mom was an articulate, well-educated, liberal freak, and always, always made sure to support me, bolster my confidence, nurture my creativity, and tell me how awesome I was. Even though I didn't accept it 100% all of the time, at least I knew someone smart thought I was groovy.

Half-way through my 20's, I allowed myself to get entrenched in an unhealthy relationship in which my partner thought it was his duty to tear me down and dump on everything I held dear about myself. Now, this person is currently doing his best to make amends, and I wish him well, but in fact, he destroyed my self-confidence. It's been a long, long road to regain some of that, and I'm determined to get that back.

This mission is addressing that particular topic head on. There's no "getting it back," in fact, because it never left. I'm still the same person I was, with even more experience and creative accomplishments under my belt. Pace and Kyeli tell me I'm perfect just the way I am. The trick is to realio, trulio believe it in my heart.

I learned something this week about my heart, and believing in myself. Before the "Bad Ex," there was a "Good Ex." This person was (and is) a true soul mate. I made a mistake in shedding that relationship, which I don't dwell on, simply acknowledge. The Good Ex not only accepted me the way I was, he adored me. I got an email out of the blue just before the new year in which he expressed that he still thinks of me as an awesome person. I was so stunned I couldn't reply for a whole week. It's extremely rare that I'm rendered speechless, and this email was so full of lovely things that I'm still walking around in a daze.

Which brings me to how I plan to take this mission to heart: the key is REASSURANCE, at least for me. I live alone, and sometimes that's hard to come by, especially when one is a rabid individualist. We all need reassurance from time to time. I will practice finding ways to reassure myself, or learn how to ask a few trusted friends and relatives for reassurance when I find it hard to believe in myself. More proof this is good for me--I only just now read what P & K have to say about reassurance, and they say it's OK to express our need for reassurance--we're so smart! It was very reassuring!

This is especially important as the body ages and becomes less physically attractive (maybe I'll get over that one, too), and since I'm no longer defined by or associated with a "straight" job. It may take a while to really soak in--after all, we're only meat! (Which according to Pace and Kyeli means that our emotional, non-rational self is awesome, too--see their incredible, free e-book, The Usual Error.)

I've been mulling over the Tucson shooting, and among other thoughts, was very reassured by our President's words. So this reassurance thing has universal as well as personal implications.

Tomorrow is the big Sixty Five! Lunch at Mandelo's with family, maybe shop for some good walking shoes, maybe a night at the Alamo Drafthouse South, catch up on a first-run movie. I plan to celebrate all week, if not longer.

What I Did Today: the good, the could be better, and the lovely

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 06:42:00 +0000

We're looking for someone who can appraise Wedgewood. Know anyone?

Mom (or should it be mum?) picked up pieces on several trips to London in the '60's and '70's.

The good: feeling in my bones that de-cluttering does not have to mean the total annihilation of physical "things" that bring me joy and happiness. It simply means getting stuff organized so that I have the right tools for the right job in one place. Easier said than done, so enlisting the help of professional organizers means that two of my friends will be available to help haul.

The bad was not really "bad," and I'm going to not call it that again. It was the "what action can I improve?" part of the day's mission. Which was easy: take better care of my body--hit the glucosamine early in the morning, wear my ankle brace when it's really cold and wet--like now--in the 20's tonight, rained enough to get some mud. So I look forward to working on that tomorrow. Put some flax and sunflower seeds in my oatmeal in the morning.

The lovely: following daughter's suggestion to photograph those thingies I love and put them all in an album, along with a little story or poem about that item--where it came from, how old I was, ancestors. Ya know, typical Capricorn stuff.

These are a jumble, awaiting said friends to transform my house into a museum/music parlor/workshop/mini-garden.

The bronze elephant was a white elephant gift. Go figure. I have much more cinnabar.

My grandmother's teapot. My first celadon love. She probably got it as a wedding present.

My grandfather made this clock. I have the pendulum and key. Should take it to a clock shop and get it working again. Would love to see it on the wall. He would wind it once a week, and it made a nice alto tick tock.

52 Weeks: #1

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Sat, 08 Jan 2011 19:51:00 +0000

Creating a tasteful environment. Pretty tall order for someone who's still in boxes. One thing stood out--no lovely things to look at and be inspired by in my office/workshop.

Introducing Brenda Bromeliad. She is disguising the fact that my cheapo pressboard computer desk is sagging in the middle.

The welcome splash of color and life already makes me feel better and more comfortable about this new journey.

Pace and Kyeli are smart cookies--they understand that success is best achieved by mastering baby steps in an organic manner, rather than leaping off a tall building just to quit smoking. Muddled metaphor, but it works for me.

Ties in with decades of working cognitive behavior therapy, AlAnon programs, and any other process that systematically addresses positive change. And the missions (as opposed to assignments or exercises) in the 52 Weeks to Awesome program uses those techniques in technicolor. With no pressure, no "shoulds" or dogma attached.

As a mutual friend exclaimed, "you'll have such a lot of fun." And that's what retirement should be. The I Ching says it furthers one to find a great teacher and also the right helpers. Jackpot--looks like I found not one, but two--in the right place at the right time. We are encouraged to share our journey (respecting copyright, attribution where appropriate, of course). I feel my heart opening up, my shoulders relaxing, my brain bubbling with yeasty ideas, and laughter squirting out in unexpected places. It's also a new vein of content for FOP. Bright, shiny epiphanies whizzing by at an accelerated rate.

And it's only the beginning!

Retirement: Month Four

noreply@blogger.com (kokopelliwoman) — Mon, 03 Jan 2011 20:50:00 +0000

Last sunset of 2010, Texas Hill Country.

December--four months, one-third of a year into retirement and I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. Beginning to wonder if I'll ever grow up.

Slow but steady progress towards making sense of things. And the Best. Christmas. Present. Ever. My daughter surprised me with a visit and the news that she will relocate in Austin within the next year.

That's huge. For the last fifteen years we have been separated by so many miles and so little money to visit I despaired we'd ever see each other again. To keep hope alive, I'd look forward to the next time we could be together. I've never insisted on adhering to traditional holidays, especially since she felt the need (and I concurred) that those special times were more important for her to be with her dad and his new family than with me. I can make a holiday out of any day of the year. Her presence is what makes it special for me.

To be sure, I have my own family to celebrate those occasions with, and that's been wonderful. It's just more wonderfuller now.

Reconnection: 2010 was full of surprise calls and e-mails from old friends who found me via Facebook, Twitter, the Showco listserv, and plain old Google. One friend UPS'ed me an antique Blue Willow mug that she had been carrying around for 35 years to return to me. Green (the band) reunions at James Neel House of Music were great fun, interesting to see where dynamics have changed, where they haven't.

Trying to reconnect with myself. Dealing with depression in a new way (shit happens--you won't be stuck forever) and peeling back resistance to commitment. Learning how to care for an aging body. Accepting good things as well as bad.

New Year's Investigations (as opposed to New Year's Resolutions): The word "resolutions" has several connotations. I associate NYRs with grim determination, mindless exercises in habituation, failure, and general dissatisfaction. For 2011 I am looking deeper. Redefining "resolution" to mean "problem solving," "arrival," "completion." Bringing curiosity into the mix. Jumping off cliffs. Cracking facades. Opening doors.

1. Music: spring concert season begins soon! AVAE is doing a piece (Poulenc Figure Humaine 1943) that I've wanted to perform for a very long time with a group that has the talent to execute. Thanks, Ryan!

Knocking the rust off the old flute chops. Wonder of wonders, one of the few things that was pre-organized before the move. All my flute music is safely stored in a clear bin, so was easily retrieved from the unlabelled boxes. There are a few items I keep close: my flute, passport, and a palm-sized turquoise bear fetish. Piano as well, all in a bin.

2. De-clutter: The unprepared move knocked me for a loop. I miss my old tree house, but my new place is definitely more conducive to fashioning a physical environment that is safe, healthy, and wildly creative. Several sub-categories: prioritizing what needs to go, what can stay; acquiring items that will enhance the above (computer chair, clothes dryer, slide/neg converter). Photographing items that I might sell on Ebay or Etsy. Accepting that I will probably NEVER mend clothing, replace buttons, etc. Aggressively dealing the unaccustomed onslaught of paper mail triggered by retirement (enough, already!)

3. 52 Weeks to Awesome : This is one of those serendipity things that showed up at the right place, time, and price. Already reaping the benefits from the bonus goodies alone--a lovely, hand-drawn watercolor Goddess calendar to brighten up the workshop wall as well as keeping me on track. Homies Pace and Kyeli from the Connection Revolution don't know me yet, but I'm looking to blow their collective minds and find myself in the process. Or vice versa. Scrumptious, either way. Evolution.

4. Rehab: Next purchase? A pair of supportive walking shoes. Austin has two awesome feet stores--Caravel and Run-Tex. I'll be searching for the ones that make walking more enjoyable. Especially now that it's as cold as it's going to get for the year--can't walk outside in hot weather, too many unhealthy heat/UV reactions. Psyche--look for ways to share PTSD recovery with those still inside the horror.

5. Simplify, simplify, simplify: Simply, make room for wonderments, good deeds, insane creativity.

6. Milestone birthday: The ol' Six-Five. Or as I like to say, "eighteen with forty-seven years of experience." Because that's what it feels like. Really.