robipace

Let me tell you a story!

Coffee Waves of Emotion? September 2, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — sisterhurl @ 5:08 am

Sitting on a comfy black leather sofa in the little cove of
a trendy coffee house, I studied the faces of my new acquaintances.  They were nice people, very vocal and self-assured,
eager to share their writing talent with the group, keen on publishing their creative
words for the entire world to feast upon.

I sat with my trusty laptop providing a barrier between me
and the unknown.  My trusty Dell placed  a familiar friendly warmth between my own
insecurity and their cool confidence. I listened. They laughed.  I laughed on the inside.

They talked about their lives…an ex-marriage that had been
the catalyst for fifteen ‘happily single’ years; one marriage that had started
out with a wild, adventurous honeymoon and settled into a harmonious sharing of
life’s enormous responsibilities; and another marriage that had produced a
whole lot of children, with a caring spouse at home tending them all, perhaps with
the hope of a take-home coffee cup arriving later to smooth the edges of
another long day.  I failed to mention my
own happy path down the road of matrimony, 30 years and going strong. Nor did I
mention my own two college sons still living at home. No, I listened.  And I began to laugh on the outside.  My laptop slid off to the empty cushion next
to me, and there was less of a barrier between me and these new faces.

Still, I cringed when it was time for my critique to
begin.  I’m sure the drawing in of my jaw
and the tightening of my facial muscles was visible, though I tried to hide it with
a smile.  What started out as fairly
painful, ended up being a joyous exercise in self-examination.  Having your creativity inspected under a
microscope is akin to stepping on a scale and having your weight announced to
an entire mall full of people. Extremely skinny people might not understand
that.  Extroverts may not understand it
either.  But a person’s creativity comes from
the soul; it is a delicate, precious thing that should be nurtured and
protected.  Inspiration should not be
contained, hidden, or stunted, and yet in releasing it, that is  precisely when it becomes
vulnerable.  Creativity, in all forms,
should compel the creator to laugh wholeheartedly for all to witness, because it
is a joyful thing!  And once that joy
exists, the vulnerability dissipates. I wish the process was simple and
uncomplicated, but for me it is a tedious route.

I recently opened a fortune cookie to find this message: Talents that are not shared are not talents.  I keep that little slip of paper tucked in
the pocket of my Nook.  It is there to
remind me that I must allow myself to be vulnerable and open.  It is there to remind me that great joy
awaits!

I look forward to honing my critiquing skills, so that I may
offer more input…and laughter…at the next gathering. Live, Laugh, Write… Drink Chi!

 

Hold your applause! May 20, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — sisterhurl @ 2:28 am

I’m going to a ballet recital this weekend and I’m looking forward to it because this will be my first stress-free recital!  Ever!

As a young piano player, I practiced for months to prepare for recitals and worried about making a mistake. I didn’t totally stress out, but performing in front of strangers was not something I truly enjoyed. I’m more of a closet pianist.

When my older son, Martin, took piano lessons he participated in recitals for a few years and I could not enjoy the events until after he finished playing.  He always performed perfectly…no mistakes, and no nervousness, but until it was all a done deal I was on pins and needles. Once my suit-clad tickler of the ivories stood up to take his bow, I was able to breathe and clap in true exultation!

The same was true when I sat in the bleachers for four years of high school football with my younger son, Miles.  My husband was on cloud nine the entire time, with the exception of a few outrages over calls from officials.  He was the bell of the ball, literally flitting around like a social butterfly, making friends and talking sports with the other parents.  I enjoyed the games and  cheering for the team, but it was like one long recital and I couldn’t relax until four years later!

I’m learning to breathe a little easier these days.   I’m working on my second novel despite the ill-favored odds of ever being published. I’ll be my own one-woman act if I have to and then I’ll applaud for myself.  A good friend has recently offered to give me accordion lessons, and I hope someday to be brave enough to perform with her, if you can consider a patio concert for friends who’ve had a few cocktails a performance! It takes more than punch and cookies these days to gather a crowd for Polka, and fortunately, my friend’s talent extends beyond that genre.

Until then, I will enjoy watching other people’s children perform. I’ll be wondering if the parents in the audience are able to enjoy the show as much as I am, and I’ll be wishing I could turn back the hands of time and erase all of the anxiety that went along with the performances in my life. I will watch one beautiful three-year-old ballerina in particular and I know I will be inspired to keep following my dreams.

I may not be ready to take a bow, but at least I’m not quite ready to bow out!

 

A Google Down Memory Lane May 4, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — sisterhurl @ 2:05 am

I spent a nice day with my mother and sister last Sunday.  We did the usual things like eating lunch, chatting, and watching “I Love Lucy” reruns. Sometimes we do errands, little household chores or yard work, but today the weather was hot and extremely windy so we sort of lazed around the house.  We also did a little cyber sleuthing of sorts, and it was quite the highlight of the day!  My mother is not into computers.  That’s an understatement.  She practically loathes them and thinks that my sisters and I are addicted to them.  I’m sure she’s right about that to some degree, but I always counter with the fact that I spend less time on the computer than she spends watching television.  I don’t actually say that to her, of course, but I do tell my sisters my thoughts on the matter.

As for the cyber sleuthing, I started off showing her that we could Google Earth her house.  She was amazed that her house was visible online! Next, we moved on to several of my old places of residence, and those of my sister, Janet.  Then, we took the ultimate Google trip and ended up on the street where my mother grew up: Downing Street, in New Smyrna Beach, Florida! My mother wasn’t creeped out by it at all!  In fact she loved seeing how the neighborhood had improved a little in the 30 years since my grandmother died.  We spun a 360 and looked at all of the nearby houses, then took a few turns and ended up on Canal Street where the grocery store still stood.  It is no longer Sorrell’s, and no longer a grocery store, but the building is there, complete with its’ upper level apartment.  We could see some of the pretty palm trees that line that downtown street, as well as some railroad tracks. I won’t go into all of the nitty gritty details, but each of those landmarks holds strong memories and meanings for us. For my 87-year-old mother it was a delightful virtual reality trip that seemed to make the internet an okay place for a while.

On the drive home I thought about how much fun we’d had peeking at New Smyrna, and reminiscing about the days when my grandmother and all of her friends lived there.  It makes you think about silly things like sidewalks, shrubs, houses that needed painting, porches that got screened in.  It almost made me wonder if the old neighborhood misses my family. I’m sure that some essence of our being still resides there with the brick and mortar.  Fashions change, people die, and buildings crumble or get swept away in storms, but that intangible essence of life must hang in the air on some level.  If not, then it’s just too sad to think about. I know that the joy on my mother’s face was tangible that afternoon.  And to think, it was all possible by way of the cyber highway! Viva la Google!

 

Aspiring Writer? April 16, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — sisterhurl @ 3:52 am

I had an interesting chat with my oldest son, Martin, today.  He was helping me order some new business cards.  He had a little trouble with my dubbing myself a ‘writer’ because I have not been published.  This boy of mine is a smart guy.  He plans, studies, makes goals and then does everything he can to make them come true.  He is morally sound, loving, polite, generous, responsible, and loved by many people. He is full of humor and engages me in wonderful conversations, for which I am extremely grateful.  He completely burst my bubble!

  Just as my big head was swelling to a delightfully plump size, filling to the brim with a newfound confidence and riding a wave of satisfaction at having completed my first novel, he failed to agree that I could now claim to be a writer on these little pale green cards that will carry my name elegantly scripted across the front. 

We agreed that “aspiring writer” would be a more appropriate term, and we’re all about being appropriate.  No false advertising here!  I just hope I don’t have to throw out a bunch of these beautiful cards once a publisher does discover my hidden talent!  Seriously, what harm is there in projecting one’s dream onto a business card?  Don’t we see that type of overblown self-confidence thrust our way via  advertisements every day of our lives? 

I have written a mystery suspense novel…I’m a writer.  One day, a wastebasket full of cards saying otherwise just might prove my happy point! Until then, I remain politically correct.   Robianne Pace, Aspiring Writer

 

Ink Without a Pen? April 10, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — sisterhurl @ 1:35 am

Today I sat down to write some notes to myself.  I jotted a few things down and then my pen quit working.  I ventured to the corner of the paper and made some circular colorless dents in the page.  I got up, fumed over to the trash bin, and tossed the useless thing in the trash!  Pens that don’t write are a major pet peeve of mine.  One false move and they  immediately have a new home with the stinky empty cat food containers in the bottom of my kitchen garbage can.

Today this little episode caused me to think about myself. Unlike that disappointing writing utensil, I’m full of ink… fluid thoughts fill every part of my mind and soul. The problem is that I tend to hoard them inside of myself because I am such an introvert.  I shy away from revealing all of my joy, pain, and enthusiasm merely because it takes more guts to do that than  I naturally possess. I’m ink without a pen, and that is about as useless as a pen without ink!  So, I am stepping out, and ‘fessing up: I’m a writer, a thinker, a midnight inker!