Julie Unplugged

Tell Me: Which Word(s) are on your "driving me insane just to hear" list right now?

Can you guess what word is on my current, “word that tugs on the inside of my ears like nails on chalk board sound"?Read the short "geesh this word bugs the hell out of me" rant. When you get to the end, please comment and let me know what you think and/or what word annoys the heck out of you right now.

  Photo By Horia Varlan and licensed under creative commons.

Back in the day I worked as a county bureaucrat: I know, next to impossible to believe I was ever a county bureaucrat but I was and the word abuse there was rampant.

The words that bothered me the most there included “interface” and “empower”. Everything we did seemed to involve interfacing and everyone was or needed to be empowered or was empowering to others. I was nauseas over word abuse.

I listened attentively at a recent poetry slam. Nearly every poet threw in the magic word “truth” which simply annoyed me, after a while. It is a phenomenal word when not abused. Powerful, even. When spoken as one would respond to the ubiquitous, “How are you?” response of “Fine” when the lies of "I am anything but fine" are flaking off you as if you had a massive personal life exfoliation.

This is when you begin to know the horrifying ugliness that comes from word abuse.

Here is the definition of my currently annoying word:

1. Impressively beautiful, elaborate, or extravagant; striking.

2. Very good; excellent.

 Here is a Jack London quote using my currently annoying word. The only difference is  I replaced the word that annoyed me with a synonymous word, instead, to see if the meaning held:

“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in striking glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.”

“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in impressively beautiful glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. “

“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in extravagant glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. “

Jack London is a phenomenal author who shares California roots. If he found it unannoying, maybe I should jump on the bandwagon. The tired-of-it me wants to beg Jack to come back to life and choose one of my other choices.

Maybe it is the reality that this word feels showy to me. It feels like a word that shows off its presence, that says, “Look at me, I am four syllables long and I wear a funky crown I repurposed from goodies I bought at the thrift store.”

I just flashed on an image of Martha Stewart, making objects of homey art while in prison, proclaiming, “Look at this excellent  napkin ring, fashioned from the most basic prison house contraband.”

I thought complaining about this word, which continues to go unnamed, would somehow make me feel better. It hasn’t.

Fabulous. Yes, spectacular. I have to admit, cloyingly magnificent.

Interested in August's Virtual Writing Camp? Check it out and register now to reserve your seat. We begin August 8.

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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott

The Creative Process Continues: Silent After All These Years Art Continues Speaking #blogboost

It is as if there are angels or spirits coming into the creative process.

It was a few weeks ago now I dropped off my art at the Empty Space Theater Gallery for the “Silent After All These Years” art show. It was a tough time for me.

It felt like the moments of transition, right before childbirth.

You’ve been focused on this birth but in those last moments, you just want to hold onto that baby tucked deep inside.

At least for me… I didn’t want to share my babies.

I didn’t necessarily want to share this art!

And then I had to miss the opening because I was out of town and kerplunk… my heart was delighted to read about the opening in Camille Gavin’s article about the show in the Bakersfield Californian. She even mentioned one of my pieces directly.

I used a very specific model  for the majority of my pieces: a reworked Raggedy Ann I called Raggedy Marcella. She is constructed out of wood with a face of sheets of hymn music and button eyes. She is wearing a very fancy evening gown and isn’t like your average Raggedy Ann.

I gave her the name “Marcella” as that is the name of Jonny Gruelle’s daughter. I didn’t know it before this project began, but Gruelle is the artist who wrote and illustrated the Raggedy Ann and Andy series of books for children way back when my grandmothers and mother was young.

Now, he is someone I study and I think about and was a big part of my creative process.

He connected me to Raggedy Ann in a brand new way. He connected me to my Grandmother and women in general in a brand new way.

I have been making magnets and tiny works of art to sell at our local First Friday events. I bought square inch wood pieces to make into necklaces and what I wasn’t expecting was to fall head over heels with making tiny art similar to my larger pieces.

Using similar colors to my original doll, I painted pages or used yellow pages from Kate Chopin’s book, The Awakening, and superimposed either photos of my Marcella or Jonny Gruelle’s illustrations.  I am blown away by what I see happening.

This image is of three of my works

The top "inchie" features the shadow from a tree in Emily Dickinson’s yard, the second is a Gruelle image and the third is the Marcella doll I made. Look at the words that randomly showed up.

These tiny works of art are now whispering to me. I imagine they will continue speaking to me.

I haven't seen my art on display yet. I am planning to go for the closing event on the 30th. If you are in Bakersfield, I hope you will attend. Watch for announcements from The Empty Space on facebook.

And a thought for you to leave with - next time you see (or read) art - of any size or color or shape or number of words, allow yourself the space to hear what it is saying to you.

Let me know how that goes....

Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot

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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott

This is post 18 of 31 in July for the Ultimate Blog Challenge ~

Show Me So That I (and Everyone) May See the Beauty You Hold (UBC 17/31 #blogboost)

I watched as it happened yet it still causes me to feel a strange combination of humility, delight and just the slightest fragrance of “was what I said a part of that?” 

I think I know the answer.

I had given myself the privilege of not leading a writing program. I lead many programs so it is a pleasure and a privilege to simply sit back as a participant and allow someone else the joy of facilitation and me, the joy of simply being there as a community member.

We were all sitting in a circle as our program ended and those who wanted to share were given the time and space to share. One woman prefaced her statements with, “I am not going to read what I wrote…” and the rest of us surely believed that was just fine, but as I listened to her, I wanted to add support. 

“What I wrote today was complete chaos. That’s how it works sometimes. I would be glad to read what I wrote if it would give you some encouragement to read yours.” 

Her eyes lit up and her words tumbled forth and before I knew it, she was reading her words. She didn’t need my written chaos to encourage her, she needed my permission that whatever she wrote would be just right.

Ironically, what she wrote was beautifully crafted with a satisfying blend of emotions and vivid imagery. When she finished, the other women writers lavished specific praise on her words.

I said, “What a privilege to watch you. Even your countenance has changed.”

The others agreed.

She had been sort of huddled over her book before, head tilted down, burrowed forehead, grey. Now she was sitting upright, shoulders back, eyes raised and not a slight smile but a huge grin covering her pink flushed face.

I thought it would take my art to help her with her art, instead it simply took my offer and my permission. She did the rest.

Edgar Degas said, “Art is not what you see, it is what you make others see.”

My art on Saturday was not my words, it was my intention. What I saw was the beauty in another’s words and then held the mirror up to her, so she could see the beauty in herself.

What art are you making others see today?

 

 

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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott

This is post 17 of 31 in July for the Ultimate Blog Challenge ~

Wednesday #Wishcasting: I Wish to Try.....

I was fully committed to being a grouch last night. It was almost ridiculous and it was ridiculously fun.

Because I am on the West Coast, I frequently am able to read the Jamie Ridler’s Wishcast prompt before I go to sleep on Tuesday night. I read the prompt last night before I went to sleep and was snarly about it. “What do I wish to try? I wish to try never wishcasting again…. Grumble grumble… I wish to try never being chirpy for other wishes for other people… blah blah blah.

The good news is this: today I have the happy-grouch hangover and before I even got to writing my wishcast, I wrote an octava rima. I decided, “I think I will try writing an octava rima this morning.”

It is ridiculous, ofcourse, since I am on a roll with that theme. My notepad on my computer got stuck in an overly wide form which made it almost unworkable. I have a new computer and we: the computer and I, still have an overly formal relationship.

We don’t know how to work with each other’s quirks. So I said to myself, “Maybe if I try moving the mouse this…” and all of a sudden the right side of my notepad edge was on my screen. And then… I quickly tried a secret method to get the other side back on my screen, too.

See? Wishcasting worked its magic without me even saying a wishing word.

Look what I created:

My Notepad and Me : Octava Rima #1

Finally got my notepad back to size

After a ghost took over my desktop

I'm embarrassed to say how many tries

Before I concluded I better stop

I threw aside my nicey nice disguise

Fell off my high heels with a loud kerplop

Now we are both in a satisfied peace

My notepad and me? Have words to release

= = = =

And now, for a longer term “I want to try” wish…

I wish to try finally getting my chapbooks together using Microsoft Publisher.

This week I found one of the chapbooks I attempted to piece together last Summer without a desktop publishing program, before this new computer.

It was lovely and it was sad, too. I have been talking about my chapbooks for I can’t remember how long. Now there is only one thing left in my way: Me.

Me worrying about my learning curve and forgetting the way to learning and growing is simply an active, devoted trying… and loving that trying, even when it leads to falling on my ass… even repeatedly.

Katherine, my soon-to-be Smith College sophomore daughter is home for the Summer and has used Microsoft Publisher as a TA. She insists it is easy. I insist I believe her.

I wish to try finally getting my chapbooks together using Microsoft Publisher.

Thank you, everyone, for wishing alongside me. I attempt to wish with everyone as well, every week, and sometimes I feel bad when I don’t manage it. I also cannot wish on certain blogger pages if the option for Name/URL isn’t there. Know I am wishing for you, too, just can’t write it because blogger, for whatever reason, isn’t my buddy right now.  >> shrug>>

As you wish, so I wish for you also….

Interested in August's Virtual Writing Camp? Check it out and register now to reserve your seat. We begin August 8.

  Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot

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Julie Jordan Scott

Paying Homage: Yellow's Awakening ~ Louisa May Alcott & Her Many Friends (UBC 16/31 #blogboost)

 

This morning I was awake early, sitting at my desk in my normal “Let’s make a parade of words across the page!” I was reading and connecting with others, but I wasn’t getting into the writing vibe to move through my pen.

I was focused on the color blue but wanted to make progress on my art project for First Friday. It seemed as if this was a bit of a conspiracy because I felt a distinctive yellow calling.

Yellow: the color of sunrise and suffragettes.

Yellow: the color of my childhood bedroom and Samuel’s favorite room.

Yellow: the color of sunflowers, daisies and some say cowards – I say, misunderstandings.

From sensationalcolor.com “Yellow shines with optimism, enlightenment, and happiness. Shades of golden yellow carry the promise of a positive future. Yellow will advance from surrounding colors and instill optimism and energy, as well as spark creative thoughts.”

I painted small pieces of wood shaped as Lark’s houses yellow. They are to be made into magnets for First Friday and as I painted I thought, “I may have to do more with these then just magnets.” Exactly what that means, I am not sure. I have been doing mixed media and many more layers lately, offering myself and my fingers and hands at the whim of the art itself rather  than to my own bidding so I am not sure I can give an accurate insight into where I will go with these houses.

What I do know is the squares of wood and the lark houses looked adorable as I quickly whooshed one coat of yellow and then another. I knew Cameron’s house had yellow painted pages from Kate Chopin’s “The Awakening” waiting to be used in art. I knew there was an awakening house almost complete and a copy of Louisa May Alcott’s Old Fashioned Girl on my desk.

The yellow compelled me to make a path from squares and lark’s houses up a step of the book to… the Awakening house.

I found this quote from Louisa herself in a letter to a “Miss Churchill” who was apparently writing books as well.  The letter was written on Christmas Day in 1878 and Alcott’s words made me laugh:

“Little Women was written when I was ill & to prove that I could not write books for girls. The publisher thought it was flat, so did I, & neither hoped much for or from it. We found our mistake & since then, though I do not enjoy writing “moral tales” for the young, I do it because it pays well.”

She went on to say these words which made me stop giggling and instead, made me breathe very softly.

“The success I value most was making my dear mother happy in her last years & taking care of my family.”

I think of my eldest daughter, Katherine, who so loves her family and would do anything for any of us.

I think of the article I read last week, I can’t remember the author, which slammed Louisa’s words for not being strident enough for her taste. Reading these words of love for her mother and her family, I understand on a deeper level.

I understand now why my pencil fell silent. I had more important things to discover today and the path to discovery was yellow, not y-e-l-l-o-w.

 

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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott

This is post 16 of 31 in July for the Ultimate Blog Challenge ~

 

Youch! Sometimes a kick in the butt is exactly what is needed... Thank you Synchronicity, #trust30 & @ReinventionQ

Synchronicity felt compelled to kick me in the butt today.

That’s fine: sometimes a swift kick helps me learn life’s valuable lessons more completely. I am guessing such things don’t happen to anyone else but me, after all.

It took me the entire standard work-day to respond to today’s trust30 prompt.

Here’s how it went:

“If you can’t change your fate, change your attitude.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

And today's prompter Maryellen Smith added, “At any given point in time, you’re only one thought away from changing your thinking. What thought can you change today?”

I read it early this morning and thought, “I’ve done a lot of attitude dancing, changing it up, mixing it up, for years actually.” I wasn’t judging my own superiority, believe me, it was more a noting of the fact. I remembered back when I first read Tony Robbin’s “Awaken the Giant Within” back in 1990 when I was new to Bakersfield.

This was when I first started learning and living along such lines.

Early in the day I thought of circumstances where I have shifted my thinking and I am betting a part of me was waiting for something to happen.

It did.

I am involved with a program here in Bakersfield offered through a local hospital. It is a fantastic program which I love and they had a special offering for teens. I thought it would be perfect for Emma and she agreed to do it and then, today, after I finagled a way for her to participate even with a delayed sign up, she decided very last minute she didn’t want to go.

We’re talking so last minute that she walked into the door and said, “I don’t want to be here” and in front of so many people I respect, she bailed on the program. I felt terrible. She very honestly said, “I hate failing. I am not good at art, I don’t want to fail at this. I can’t, I just can’t.”

We left with me near in tears. She felt terrible, I know – but I wasn’t ready to talk to her about it.

I realized after a while, I had made this whole situation about my failings as a parent and not about her honesty. How many times have I wished I could be so honest and upfront about my feelings?

I could have forced her to stay and she, more than likely, would have tried to prove her point and failed.

I could have let her never even entertain the thought of attending.

I could have continued to make it all about me, but I remembered this lesson.

It is about a lot of things, but Emma not participating in this is not about me.

It is about her.

And it isn’t wrong, it just is.

(These are well practiced ways of thinking. It works to remember… not good, not bad, just is. Not judgment or wrong or right, just is what it is.)

And on a fun note, I tweeted a Thoreau quote a couple weekends ago and a woman from Concord responded. I love that in the midst of all this Emersonian thought, I made a new living friend in Concord as well.

Thank you, Trust30 friends, for continuing this journey.

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Stoking the Creative Fire ~ UBC 15/31 #blogboost #ced2011

Today I am experimenting with yet another creative process.

I have often thought it would be cool to overlay images with words, but wasn’t sure how to pull it off. I know there are probably some other useful and effective techniques but this one seems to be perfect for now.

I have been playing with it, even this morning as I start the process.

In fact, so much so, I want to create more stuff. Instantly.

Usually when my creative fire is stoked like this, it means I am onto something even if that something is my personal enjoyment and nothing else.

Isn’t that enough?

= = = = =

Interested in August's Virtual Writing Camp? Check it out and register now to reserve your seat. We begin August 8.

 

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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott

This is post 15 of 31 in July for the Ultimate Blog Challenge ~

 

Beyond Meaning: Sometimes Dishes, Undone are Simply Dishes, Undone

Last week I had the privilege of hosting July’s Virtual Writing Camp with Julie Jordan Scott (yes, that would be me).  Writing Campers from across the US and the UK gathered each day to write, to share, to see what it was our virtual campfire would have them come to know.

One thing Writing Camp had me come to remember was – I don’t have to do it all simultaneously. Summer requires me to focus on my children more. They are underfoot (hand, steering wheel), etc. They need and deserve my attention.

I also feel compelled to continue to move forward in my business and my creative play, so I wasn’t going to sacrifice writing camp in the Summer this year. I just wasn’t going to do it.

What was sacrificed? Chores. Dishes were left in the sink and became part of the grist for writing.

I wanted my students to write of the ordinary, the every day, to come to see how extraordinary it all could be. I used my own dirty dishes as an example.

I wrote a group of fragments and a sentence while observing the dishes that were left in my sink overnight. I didn’t think as I wrote, I just wrote. And then, when we gathered around the “campfire” I read aloud:

“Dirty dishes in the sink. My penance. My calling. My task tangled in dried Italian dressing and slivers of carrots glued to stoneware from dried up oil.”

I asked a simple question:

What did you notice about those sentences?

I didn’t expect the torrent of responses I received, everything from “so visual, I could picture it,” to a discussion of my devotion to art above housekeeping and a zen, mindful approach to chores. I was unprepared for the thought, the care, the reflection and how each observer of my words seemed to project their own expectations and experiences of dirty dishes onto my experience of dirty dishes.

In short: it was a tremendous creative moment of experience and re-experience.

I then had them take a “writing field trip” to an ordinary spot in their houses and to do the same thing: write a sentence or two about it, stream of consciousness style.

The writing that came out made ride a metaphoric submarine as we lifted our word-periscopes into each other’s homes.

The next day we once again gathered around the campfire and we joked about my dishes.

They asked me if I had taken a photo – I had. I also took a photo after the dishes were washed.

It shows lots of bubbles as well as a few other salient features of my sink.

It makes me with I paid more attention to flylady before taking the photo. I even thought of restaging it after scrubbing out my sink.

The writing I do, though, is real and raw and unscrubbed or scrubbed depending upon when you happen to show up. I might be in the midst of prepping for an art show or teaching a new class or leading a writing fire or taking an impromptu road trip with my children or friends.

 

It is just fine. The dishes will get done. The books are being written and the lessons are being taught.

Sometimes dirty dishes are in sink are just dirty dishes in the sink.

= = =

Interested in August's Virtual Writing Camp? Check it out and register now to reserve your seat. We begin August 8.

 

  Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot

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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott

This is post 15 of 31 in July for the Ultimate Blog Challenge ~

 

Breakthrough and Vow in a 5 Minute Pilgrimage - #SOCSunday

I had quite a breakthrough in the five minutes it took to write today’s Sunday Stream of Consciousness writing. Wow. Five minutes? Yes. Five minutes to respond to a deeply rooted call.

Shivers down my spine.

Ready to take a look into my five minute write and my breakthrough?

It has been showing up in my mind and in my space over and over lately: go on another pilgrimage.

Go! Explore, adventure, seek. Grab your children, climb into a car and go. Go. GO!

I am not exactly sure of the where’s but when I open myself completely, I want to pick up where we left off in South Dakota a couple years ago when our transmission died and finish what we started. Cross the Midwest, to the northeast, up to Maine and down through New Jersey then down toward Tennessee and across the country, backwards on a more southern route.

I am always grabbing people and going, exploring, creating along the way. It is such a natural for me, such a gift to me.

Samuel is reading as I write this five minute message to you, to me, to God, to the Universe.

“Who is this letter to?” he asks me.

It is to myself and everyone, I think.

I love traveling. I love roadtripping. (me too, me too says Samuel) and I love taking people along and I love meeting a variety of people en route. I discovered couch surfing for both a more economical way to travel but also to discover places more thoroughly.

Every place I visited last time I wanted to stay longer.

Perhaps this is a part of it: to regroup, revisit and explore more deeply.

I want to host writing camps along the way. Perhaps this is it, then, this year. To develop roving writing camps. To organize and orchestrate and allow them to be the method for funding part of the trip. To make them, perhaps, full fledged creativity camps… just like I always wanted.

Yes. I knew there was a reason I wanted to buy a calendar.

To start planning now. Before this Summer is out, for next Summer.

To make lists and destinations and connect with people now for then.

To partner, to collaborate, to laugh, to offer up myself and my offerings.

(Samuel left my side, but I am sure he would be saying “Me, too… me, too.”)

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Now…oh... and thank you, Fadra... thank you!

 

Wow. This is so exciting. Adding to my craft supply shopping trip... a calendar... time to start the plan.

Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot

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Julie Jordan Scott

Life Coaching with a Squirrel on Assist: Don't Hoard Past Beliefs & For Goodness Sakes, Play!

I am pretty darned blessed by my life work. Where else can a person sit on a bench on a bluff overlooking a river while having breakthrough conversations and simultaneously get visits (and perhaps messages) from animals while she is making her living?

I know what you are thinking: most life coaches don’t actively seek out locations like this for their coaching sessions but isn’t this a part of the lifestyle? Most life coaches and personal development entrepreneurs focus in some part upon freedom, creating the life of one’s dreams, making conscious choices and allowing the rest of “it” to fall into place.

This is certainly how it is for me.

I don’t like to work with the family underfoot constantly. This is what I have to deal with in the Summer. Creatively making it work for me and for my coaching clients, balancing what is so with what I wish was so.

I have the choice, then, to remove myself instead of fretting about the sounds from Samuel’s WII from interfering with my concentration or people coming to me to ask questions or walk through my usual coaching location to get a drink of water or breakfast.

Instead, I get coaching assistance from a curious Californa Ground Squirrel. Did you know the squirrel’s wisdom reminds us to not only focus on putting our heads down and screeching our way into our goals, but instead, make time to play and be social as we reach our goals. They remind us to be balanced and stay active… and be careful not to get hung up on hoarding “stuff” (including negative beliefs) just for the sake of it or because that is what we have always done.

It is like that squirrel came up to tap me on the shoulder… except he just grabbed my eyeball and enthralled me with this mottled coat and surprising white shawl-fur. He made me sit up and take note, to listen, to communicate what I know clearly and succinctly and trust what I say will be of service.

I am reminded how blessed I am to be a life coach, a writer, a poet, an artist-of-life and more. I listen, I communicate, I love. I look at the world and people with wonder and report back what I see.

It is like poet Stevie Smith said, “All poetry has to do is to make a strong communication. All the poet has to do is listen.”

All I have to do is love. I’ll take it.

  Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot

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Julie Jordan Scott

This is post 14 of 31 in July for the Ultimate Blog Challenge ~