Julie Unplugged

A is for Aphra Behn: Our Literary Grannies from A to Z

Aphra Behn was an eccentric, wise woman who was well ahead of her times of 17^th Century England. She had quite a sumptuous career before she started writing: she was a spy for England but when King Charles II didn’t pay her for her work in Antwerp, she got sent to debtor’s prison.

Not one to feel victimized and “stuck” in prison, Mrs. Behn (she was married for perhaps a year to Mr. Behn before he died) started writing plays while there. Upon her release she officially became the first professional woman writer in English literature. Some may argue other women wrote before her, but she was the first independent woman to write who actually worked in order to make her living.

Aphra’s first literary success was for the plays she wrote.

Her dream, though was to be remembered for her poetry. Instead, her plays and her novella, Oroonoko, are now considered her most important and influential work. Oroonoko  was a story of an enslaved African prince. It is now considered an important beginning to the development of the English novel.

She had quick success in The Forc'd Marriage in1670. It was an immediate success – well loved and made Behn a financially successful woman as well.  It was followed in 1671 by The Amorous Prince. Five of her plays were produced in the next five years 

Her biggest financial success came next, via The Rover which was produced in 1677. Nell Gwyn, the famed actress and mistress to King Charles II, came out of retirement to play the role of the whore, Angelica Bianca ('white angel').  The Duke of York (he later became King James II) was another fan of the play. 

As Aphra continued to write, her plays became more and more sexual in tone and she was even more gossiped about in the papers and in the circles who tittered and gasped yet somehow continued to support her productions. I wonder if they wore costumes so as not to be seen? Women involved in the theater were also rumored to have a second career in the world’s oldest profession, so she was fighting a battle on several sides.

Playwright Robert Gould wrote of Aphra and other women writers "Punk and Poetess agree so Pat,/ You cannot well be This, and not be That.^”  The pious Alexander Pope said, “The stage how loosely does Astræea tread/ Who fairly puts all characters to bed.^”

I don’t think she cared. She just kept writing.

Her book of poetry, Poems Upon Several Occasions, was published in 1684. She continued to become more and more successful until her death .  She was laid to rest after her death on April 16, 1689 in the Poets Corner in Westminster Abbey. I think this would have made the baudy, over the top, fun loving Aphra very, very happy.

Centuries later, Virginia Woolf further eulogized her, writing:

All women together ought to let flowers fall upon
the tomb of Aphra Behn, ...for it was she who earned
them the right to speak their minds.

This post is the first of 26 in a series I will be writing and sharing in April,2013. The challenge is simple and SUCH fun!

Check out the A to Z Challenge here.

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Reminder:

An Orchard in Ducor Reminds Me....

Fear and One of My Frequently Appearing "Friends"

Samuel actually AGREED to be in this photo. He liked being with "the girls" - no wonder! This is at the Hollywood/Highland complex where the Chinese theater is. Those people "looking out" are checking out the Hollywood sign.

I have this unfortunate friend I now refer to as “My Nervous Cough.” The first time I had it on an ongoing basis was in college, when I would actually wake up from sleeping and not be able to catch my breath. I would cough and cough and not breathe and not breathe and not breathe. The doctor at the infirmary found nothing.

I used to think my nervous cough was only mine, like there was only one Shamu. The day I overheard a woman from San Antonio saying THEY had Shamu at their Sea World I was so bewildered. How can there be more than one?

It is true: chronic coughing like I have with “MY Nervous Cough” is actually caused by fear and anxiety. There is even a name for it. Something Neuropathy, but I got freaked out while reading about it so I don’t remember the name. Not relevant to the story, anyway.

Just yesterday I was in Hollywood with my children, fifteen-year-old Emma and eleven-year-old Samuel. We also had two of Emma’s friends in our group. I was enjoying myself whole heartedly but when Emma and her friend, Sabrina, didn’t get a drink along with their fries and snack wrap, I had a minor/major coughing incident.

I had planned to take a sip of the drink because I was very thirsty and I hadn’t remembered there are plentiful places in the Hollywood/Highland complex that had inexpensive drinks.

I heard myself say, “You didn’t get anything to drink?” and bam. I huge cough barked up through my throat. A few more coughs and I left the table. I wanted to ask for a water but have you seen the lines a McDonald’s on Hollywood Boulevard generates? Seems everyone else had the same idea to use the restroom for the fee of fries and a snack wrap.

I stood, hand on my chest, coughing. I closed my eyes and “talked myself down” in my head. “Everything is fine. You are going to be fine.”

The last time I had a coughing fit related to a trip to Los Angeles it got so bad I vomited. Yes, it can get this bad.

All because of fear and anxiety and after yesterday, it seems to happen when I feel as if I have a lot of responsibility and the whole world might collapse if I let anyone down.

I talked about it to my former therapist, Adam, who was the finest therapist I have ever had the privilege to have such a relationship. Unfortunately he was also a PhD intern and has since left Bakersfield for… Los Angeles, ironically.  I remember telling him how I finally got this crazy cough under control.

You can imagine how awkward it feels to see its reappearance, once again.

Uh oh, my throat is getting dry and scratchy and… oh, no. Not again.

# # #

This post was prompted by my friends at The Scintilla Project.

The prompt went like this: Fears come in different sized packages. Tell the story of a time you had a face a fear, big or small.

 What you just read was my story. What is yours?

 

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Literary Grannies from A to Z: The Whirlwind Word-Love Adventure -

2013 Literary Grannies - (Aunties, Sisters, etc) with Aphra Behn as our kick off Granny!

I am in the middle of a  life long love affair with words. I wrote before I was literate by “dictating” to my mother, who would write my words on paper and I would then very carefully copy the letters with my crayons onto construction paper.

Read my posts here:

A is for Aphra Behn

B is for Buffalo Bird Woman

C is for Christine de Pizan

D is for Denise Chavez

E is for Ellen Emerson

F is forFredrika Bremer

G is for Gail Hamilton

H is for Hannah Adams

I is for Isabelle Eberhardt

J is for Judith Sargent Murray

 Some might say I was a preschool visionary or others might have said I was stubborn to the highest level. Perhaps I am a combination of both even today.

My first attempt with the A to Z blog challenge was 2011. I jumped in last minute with no plan at all and as often happens, with no plan in place, everything falls apart. I loved the concept and decided I would try it again, fail or no fail.

2012 came with a plan: because I love women’s history and I love 19^th century literature, I decided to marry the two together and came up with Women in Literary History. I didn’t solely cover the 19^th century, but those women were featured regularly because they are so often pushed aside in favor of the massive quantity of men who wrote and published more frequently. Our literary canon is very heavily weighted toward men.

So because I enjoyed the heck out of the 2012 series as well as engaged people in some great discussion about these authors, I wanted to take it for another ride now in 2013 with a new, catchier name "Literary Grannies from A to Z".

Am I a man basher or “hater”? I am not at all. I love men. I have a whole volume of poetry on this topic because so often I have talked to people who think “feminist” = “militant man hater” or “anyone who is stuck on women this and women that is being so exclusive, let me turn her volume down.”

Do you have a mother, sister, daughter, cousin, neighbor, close friend who is a woman?

Perhaps in honor of them, read the very short biographies I will be sharing along with images and fun facts about these women. You may discover someone very cool that until now you didn’t even know existed.

Why  do I choose to use first names as my A to Z?

Our "Z" feature will be award winning Zoe Akins

 

They are the names given to the woman, usually – sometimes the woman has adopted the name or it is the name she is known best as and I wanted to feature her with both names, like Naturalist Buffalo Bird Woman who is also named and known as Maxi'diwiac by her Hidatsa people. I am also featuring a Japanese Poet Ono No Komachi  from the 11^th Century and I was never able to determine which was her given name and which was her family name. I apologize in advance if I mixed up her name. I am thrilled to have found her in my poetry reading and so happy to share her legacy here.

Family names are usually not something thought about, we are just passed the name from one of our ancestors. I love my family name, Jordan, and continue to use it after marriage as well, partnered with the name my children bear, “Scott”. I wouldn’t want to be like Cher or Madonna or even French Writer/Performer Colette who was featured in last year’s series: Julie isn’t a name that stands on its own very well.

I love my other names, but I am most frequently referred to as “Julie,” except, possibly, “Mommy” which is a name I claim with a special pride.

Please write a brief comment, if you are comfortable, after my entries so that I know you were here. Your presence is appreciated more than you may know.

 You still have time to register for the A to Z Blogging Challenge. 

Check it out here - and join the fun. You don't have to prepare but you even still have time for that as well.

 

Three Simple Steps to Discover the Excellent, Rare, Breathtakingly Precious You

Today's Word-Love Word of the Day is RARE!

I have often thought “unusual” was a polite, code word for “weird” made up by the same people who whisper “cancer” for fear it may be catching.

 

Today in my handy junior thesaurus (I gleaned it recently at a used book sale) told me rare is both treasured and unusual. It is unique and often a one-of-a-kind, like the statue of liberty. Outstanding is rare. Precious is rare. Importance and excellence and yes, outstanding is rare.

So if I am “unusual”, I am also precious, outstanding, important and excellent.

All those other things I thought about being odd or weird or different simply mean I am special – I am precious – I am outstanding.

Any other meaning is just made up by my insecurities those people who whisper “cancer” don’t have anything to do with, I have everything to do with because I am the one who conjures up the meaning. I may feel a slight from those people, but since I am not one of them, they may feel uncomfortable with my outstanding nature. They would rather be cookie cutter people. I would rather be as uncommon as the Edelweiss plant in the United States and as precious as an expensive, high quality diamond.

Imagine: I gained all of this because I love words – and am choosing to pluck a word-a-day from my thesaurus and dictionary several times a week.

Imagine: I was so angry yesterday because my computer swallowed this blog post before I had the chance to hit “save” so I lost the entire thing and all of this is a rewrite. On reflection, I believe it is a better rewrite than the first try.

Imagine: I am now smiling because I had written in my notebook key sentences and phrases, so the fact I had to create a “do over” word of the day essay really turned out to be a pleasure, rather than a bother.

Some people claim a “right” to be angry and they allow unpleasant words to gurgle up and spill all over everyone who surrounds them. I would rather step away, take a breath, and start over than actually cause damage to others because I am not taking the time to take a breath before I toss ugly words all over my environment.

Yesterday I was frustrated. I wrote what I thought was an introduction to this essay. I just edited that introduction out of the finished piece. It isn’t word-love when it is whiney and fault finding.

Interesting, this uncommon experience of losing a post has actually made me feel so empowered because the simple choices I made. Naturally because I am posting these “Word-Love Word of the Day” essays, if you ever experience a similar situation, you can learn from my experience in three simple steps.

1. I stayed calm and didn’t slap any labels on the experience such as “I am so stupid!” or “I can’t believe I did that!”
2. I stepped away from that particular creative process to gain perspective and rebirth the desire to get these words written. Instead of this process, I worked on several art projects instead, wordless projects, “language free” projects.
3. I returned here in the early morning. The sun is rising as I write, I haven’t even spoken to anyone yet today. That is in itself a rare experience but is here because it is Spring break and I gave this priority a high spot on my list.

Best wishes to you outstanding ones reading here today. I look forward to hearing how you shift in your thinking about "odd" and "weird" and the choices you make differently because you take a breath, leave and return to begin again.

 

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Yes, I Confess - I am One of the Rare Few

From NaBloPoMo on Blogher.com:

Do you like getting up to speak in front of a crowd?  Will you submit this year for VOTY?

Rare is, ironically, my word of the day today and I must confess, I am one of the rare few who loves to speak in front of a crowd. I often tell people, if they hand me a microphone I will start telling stories which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I did win two storytelling slams – the only ones I ever competed in – and because I write prolifically as well as having theater experience in a change purse in my pocket, I can improv almost anytime, anywhere about anything.

I am not sure what VOTY is, but I did a quick google search and discovered it is “Voice of the Youth”. I am not a youth so no, I will not be submitting. I would be thrilled to speak most anywhere but like American Idol or the Bachelorette, I am far too old. There is also an insurance agent in Pennsylvania with that name, again – I doubt he is hosting a big speaking event but if he is, I am ready. Just tell me the subject, give me a half hour and watch me go!

Last December I was the Emcee for my friend’s holiday cabaret show. The dancers were not the most speedy at costume changes, so I even though I had tons of material, I still ran out. I pulled out my phone and started to search and tell jokes from online.

The audience thought that was part of the schtick. They didn’t know I was actually doing what I said I was doing.

So yes, I can manage a crowd.

And yes, believe me, I love every minute!

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Eight-Year-Old Women in Space: Memories from 1970ish.

Spring Fling circa 1970: I am the determined, smiling one next to our rocket.

Finally: something built for me and with me and by me from my idea!

 

I want to be an astronaut. I want to go into outer space. I don’t want to be like Penny in Lost in Space, I want to be like Apollo 11 on the moon. Not the guy who just flew around it, but like the guys who actually walked on the moon.

I want to do that.

For now, this Spring Fling float with Sharon and Alice is the best thing for me. For now.

I am sure we will win, like when I was little and forced into that Winken, Blinken and Nod contraption with Joey and Susie. That wasn’t my idea, I looked cute, and it was more like Mommy winning first place.

I love the Spring Fling because it means Summer is coming!

I’m looking forward to Summer because then I won’t have to bear with the teachers I had this year: the highlight was writing my state report but other than that, Miss Pizarro is the worst ever. Will my handwriting ever be pretty? Will I ever have teachers who like me again?

At least I have this. THIS exact moment. I can see the parade’s ending at Linden Avenue School, my school.

That is where we will be awarded the grand prize which I will proudly hang in my room. Not Jeff, Not Jim, Not Sue… none of them were brave enough to do this, like me. Afterwards, I will throw a ping pong ball and win at least one fish. Maybe I’ll win two or three goldfish!

I will ride a pony. I will hear people saying, “Good job, Julie!” I will take my blue ribbon when I go to sleep, hold it tightly in my hand all night long and dream of other victories I will have in my life.

Finally, I will be the special one.

Finally.

Today the prompt from my friends at Scintilla 13 went like this:

Post a photo of yourself from before age 10. Write about what you remember of the day in the photo. It may not be a full story–maybe just flashes of event and emotion–but tap into the child you were as much as you can.

What you just read is my response. THANK YOU for visiting. If I happened to get the year wrong and my brother Jeff passes by he will surely correct me on the year. Sometimes, in some eyes, I am perpetually eight-years-old.

 # # #

 

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Little Slices of Creative Every Day Opportunities from Every Day Life

This week I worked on a lot of individual pieces and this COMING week, I may actually bring some to completion to show you here. I did manage to make some art quickly – but as is my style, I am sitting with them for a bit before I declare them “complete”.

I also got a new phone this week and have really been having fun with slice-of-life phonetography. I am not sure how to spell that, but with instagramming and all, photo sharing has become such a pleasure. I have always loved to snap the everyday. Just like the history I love most is social history, women doing everyday things, for example, in the 19^th Century delights me to no end.

I thought today I would show you three photos from my phone that fit this “slice of life” unpolished, not at all poised or posed shots. The first one, I admit, is absolutely gorgeous. It was born from just being awake, alert and aware.

The camellia bush outside the Art and Spirituality Center at Mercy Hospital in downtown Bakersfield has some of the most gorgeous flowers I have seen yet this Spring. The symmetry and geometry in this flower are astounding. I simply had to respond to it by taking its photo and sharing it with others. I also plan to use it in other ways in my photo-editing creativity.

Here is Samuel doing a forever fun activity, running in the sprinkler. I know, I know, he is fully clothed in long sleeves yet I allow him to do this crazy stunt? The simple answer is “YES”.  There are two strong beliefs I hold close. One is to allow my children the space to experiment playfully in ways which will not cause damage. The other is all things are good in moderation, even those that seem out and out nutty are even allowed in my world.

I also believe helicopter parenting is one of the reason our children are less able to think critically or observe the world around them. Their brains are so full of their parent’s constant chatter while hovering they don’t have the time to notice how that leaf is half underground and becoming soil again or see the snail slowly crossing the sidewalk.

 

 

Please meet my desk how it appeared yesterday morning. It is a humble desk and yes, my monitor stand is dusty and I didn’t wipe it clean for the photo. Slice of life is all of life, not just the Stepford life. My glasses are off because as I get better – read older – my eyes are not the same as they were. I actually see the computer monitor better without my glasses now, so I take them off and then put them on for important places, like when I am behind the wheel of a car or need to see in the distance.

Do you ever create in a “slice of life” style?

I would love to see your stuff and hear what inspires you to simply show the moment as it is.

This post was inspired by the community at Creative Every Day - please visit there and see what people are building, making, baking, painting, stitching, sketching each and every day of 2013.

 

 

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Flourish: Today's Word-Love of the Day for Inspiration & Practical Application

March 24 Word-love Word of the Day: Flourish

I am one of those people who started naming a theme each year more than ten years ago.

 

It has become quite the thing in the last few years, to claim and live “one word” throughout the year. I believe in this concept, even though in the past I have usually forgotten all my grand intentions sometime in early May.

This year, my theme of the year is Growth. I haven’t been consistent with sub-themes each month like I have done in the past, but I am now inspired to focus on a “Word of the Day”.  

It all started when I was talking to a friend today who has been particularly stressed out lately and having a difficult time sleeping.

I said,

“While you are trying to go to sleep, chant a word silently in your mind: you know a word like ‘peace’ or some other word that has a positive meaning for you.”

I don’t know if he’ll do it, but I was reminded of the power of words and my ever flaming passion for words, so I thought, “Perhaps I’ll try a word of the day for… a week… and see how it goes.”

Today, my Word-Love of the day is FLOURISH.

What does the word FLOURISH mean?

One way to define flourish is to grow luxuriantly, extravagantly, abundantly.  Another is to achieve success or to be in a state of activity or production.

Have you reached a height of development or influence? If you have, you have flourished.

Naturally I think about productions of Shakespeare, which use flourish as a way of acting on stage: gesturing boldly or extravagantly as well as costuming: excess adornment and embellishment or finally, the sound of a horn to announce the arrival of someone important may be referred to by saying, “enter right after the queen’s flourish” meaning a fancy play of a horn, like an exclamation point via the ethers.

 For extra word-love fun,  three quotes for reflection:

"For evil to flourish, it only requires good people to do nothing.”

Simon Wiesenthal

"Nations are destroyed or flourish in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish.”

William Blake

"Virtue can only flourish among equals.”

Mary Wollstonecraft

How will you flourish in your everyday life today?

I will report in tomorrow when I post my first Monday Word-Love of the Day.

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

Opportunities are Usually Once in a Lifetime ~ But Not the Way You Think

Today’s prompt from NaBloPoMo in our continuing discussion of RISK:

Talk about an opportunity you let pass you by.

I have walked around with this prompt for the last sixteen hours.

I wouldn’t call it a burning sort of “walking around” but I would say I have looked at it from several different vantage points.

I realized as I poured myself my second cup of coffee I let opportunities pass me several times every day. I make a choice, I let go of another opportunity. I say yes or no, I watch a different possibility do a u-turn and go looking for someone else.

We tend to only think of the biggies: the job we didn’t take or the man who married someone else or the abortion we had or the time we weren’t able to go on that Alaskan cruise after all.

How would my life have turned out if I took that job instead of this one? What if I had moved to Chicago?

“What if” questions are a blessing if you ask with wonder-filled curiosity. They are not so great if you choose to look at them with any shading of lament. I consistently tell my friends, “You can’t change that choice you made fifteen years ago, but you can change how you relate to it right now.”

Today I let the opportunity of sitting at my desk for a full four hour writing session and instead, met my friend for our mastermind group. Along the way, I saw a photo op. I could have chosen to continue straight to Dagny’s, my coffee shop destination. Instead, I chose to step into that perfect lighting that comes early every morning.

I discovered a new angle. I stumbled across a historical marker.

I got back in my car, headed to coffee, sat outside because it was what my friend wanted even though I was cold.

I drank my coffee and I wrote, I wrote, drank my coffee and my friend arrived. I had chosen to see any timing as perfect. We haven’t sat and talked in a while, so it was like eating a hot fudge sundae in the midst of a strict diet and the calories actually DON’T count by some miracle.  I could have taken the opportunity to get angry and pissy about her being late. It feels so much better to take the opportunity to strengthen our friendship, instead.

I drove to my house and noticed the new gardener had arrived. I really didn’t want to deal with him so instead of going home to get into my daily writing, I headed to the bluffs near my house and sat for a session with Natalie. You know, Natalie Goldberg? She wrote Writing Down the Bones and this week I’ve been reading her brand new book The True Secret of Writing.

She wrote, among other things, “It’s good to do ridiculous things.”

I remembered why I loved her.

I sketched a house below me.

I chose to leave in time to get home for my writing group, even though I figured the gardener would still be there. I had taken the opportunity to spend more time with my book. I’m so glad I did that instead of taking the opportunity to be super muttering grouchy whiner. I didn’t even complain when I saw the young man hacking away at my rogue lavender plant.

Do you see where I am going?

What if we revel in our choices instead of losing energy through lamenting yesterday’s choices and opportunities not taken.

Each choice is a mini Robert Frost moment:

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;	5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,	10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.	15

You are the one who chooses which opportunity to take and which to let go.

If you are a Frost fan, you know I left off the final stanza.

I figure you don’t need either he or I to tell you which opportunity to take. Its better if you reach and discover your path with your heart rather than doing what two poets in a blogpost would do.

 

 

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott