Julie Unplugged

It's like going to a love fest for women.... #socsunday

I have wanted to write about this all week but it took a prompt from Jana's Thinking Place and Stream of Consciousness Sunday to get the words flowing.

Today's prompt: "It's like going to..." nudged me into writing about a cause I have supported for the last ten years. Seeing not only the cause rise up but women rise up, in love, year after year... well.... here's the story, written in five minutes:

It’s like going to a love fest for women.

It’s like throwing away, once and for all, the cultural norm of “women are catty” and “women don’t like other women” and “never trust your back to another woman.”

It’s another experience of VDay Bakersfield. We raise money for a local agency, Alliance Against Family Violence as well as the annual funds for a group named by Eve Ensler and her women at the national VDay organization which gives waives the cost to perform the play, The Vagina Monologues  and join an international movement.

Can anything be bigger than being a part of One Billion Rising, joining with women worldwide to make a difference?

I think there are bigger things that live right within our local movement.

It is the miracle of women coming together who have never met before and women returning, year after year, not because of ego or what role they play or how many lines they have or how many times the spotlight hits their face or how many laughs or tears their performance gets, it is about love for the world, love for women and girls and the men who love them and personifying that here in a tiny microcosm of women in Bakersfield.

It is moving beyond the politics yet into politics, it is diving into the deeply personal and intimate. It is using words that feel foreign to us and allowing ourselves to speak publicly what we believe and be supported whole heartedly and souledly (not sure if that’s a word but it should be) while we do it.

I feel sadness for women who do not become a part of it.

I feel profound grief for the women who have lost their lives due to violence or lost their courage due to their voices being stripped from them or lost their innocence because of rape or bullying or seeing a murder of a loved one as they stood by helpless.

Sure, we can stay inside the world of sitcoms and reality shows and just hanging out “being cool” or we can stretch and grow and love people more deeply than we ever knew we could.

VDay: its like going to a love fest for women.

**********************

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.
• 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 (in the sidebar). .
• Link up your post at Jana's Thinking Place.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love. 

Julie Jordan Scott is a Creative Life Coach, a Poet Performer, a Writer and a Mommy Extraordinaire. Stay in touch with her via twitter or facebook or you may always call or text her at 661.444.2735 to arrange a complimentary coaching session. Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot  

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

Drawn to Their Faces, Their Stories, Their Lives & Their Words: Loving Literary Women

Before the Government provided help, widows needed to figure out means to support their children after their husband's died. Kate Chopin wrote and wrote well. Her book, The Awakening, is one of my favorites.

I am taken with their faces

Lucy Larcom: Lowell Mill Girl & Writer

Their courage

And her granddaughter says

“She was only taking care of her children.”

Before there was welfare for widows

there was writing. There were people, interested.

There was engagement, wonder and word~love.

I wonder if I could learn to trace her face?

I wonder if I could learn to paint by tracing her eyes

By learning the shadows and light in her hair’s curls?

I am drawn to the women of the literary past and present. I am drawn to my literary Grandmothers, my great Aunties, my

Elinor Wylie: Misunderstood Poet, Mother & Literary Outsider

neighbors,  my sisters, the artists who went before me. I want to know them, I want to spend time with them. I want them to know that we know and notice and appreciate.

I want to share their stories, their wisdom, their humor. I want to dive into their connections and friendships with other creative women. I want to learn how they Mothered, if they had children. I want to read their letters and diaries, I want to thumb through the photos from their lives.

I want to know how they dealt with loss, how they wrote their grief onto the page or into the paint.

I crave visits to archives to touch the papers and pages they also touched.

The US National Archive keeps treasures like this. There are also archives at Libraries, Colleges and Universities. If you are interested in a particular author, search Archives - Author's Name or look in bibliographies about your favored writer.

I am beyond words drawn to the women of the literary past and present.

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

    Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She leads Writing Camp with JJS & this Summer will be traveling throughout the US to bring this unique, fun filled creative experience to the people wherever she finds the passion & the interest.

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Women in Literary History from A to Z: Yosano Akiko

Yosano Akiko is a poet I didn’t know of until the past week.

I still don’t know exactly how I found her, but somehow, someplace, something most likely having to do with feminism lead me to her poetry.

I started reading more Japanese love poetry only recently because I bought a book at one of my favorite places for book shopping – Goodwill – and found a collection of poems by Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu, translated by Jane Hirshfield with Mario Aratani titled The Ink Dark Moon. The ancient court was filled with women geniuses. It was expected then for the women to be more insightful and more gifted with words than the men. The poetry I found was both erotic and spiritual, sensual and insightful.

From centuries ago and now to the beginning of the twentieth century, I happened upon Yosano Akiko. She was very ahead of her generation in her intellectual thought and practice. She was a feminist, she was a social activist – she was a mother of 13, 11 of whom survived into adulthood.

She was married to another poet, Tekkan Yosano, who was also an editor. Some of their poetry intertwined with his poem starting a thread of tanka and her poem in response to his tanka.

She wrote more than twenty volumes of tanka in her lifetime.

Roger Pulvers, author, playwright and director who is also a Japan Focus associate had these words to say about Akika Yosano:  “Had Yosano Akiko been writing in English or French or German, for instance, her influence on 20th-century poetry around the world would have been immense.”

A brief sampling of her Tanka:

Two stars deep into heaven

Whispering love

Behind the nighttime curtain

While down below, now, people lie

Their hair in gentle disarray…

= = =

The day lengthens...

I snap off wild roses

Grasp them, put them in my hair...

I am weary of waiting in the field

For you!

= = =

We leaned against the railing

That runs along the bright bank

Of the wide Oi River at night

Dressed in light blue

In our very own summer!

= = =

Perhaps it is my search for feminist quotes that brought me to this phenomenal poet. She declared in 1911, “All the sleeping women are now awake and moving.”

My 2013 self says, “Are we?”

I feel as if she is daring me to not only wake more completely, but to serve as an agent of awakening for the women in my life.

Are you awake?

Are you moving?

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 © 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

 

Women in Literary History: An Exceptionally Brief Look at the Life of George Sand

George Sand: Influencer of Women. Mother. Novelist. Feminist. Inspirer

This brief profile is meant to tickle your curiosity more than give you an exhaustive story of the life of one of the most fascinating women of 19th Century France: George Sand.  I look forward to more study myself. I have concluded with five quotes from her writings, primarily because I always feel I come to know an author most fully from getting to know her writing voice.

Join me, now, in deep curiosity to an influential writing woman who you may not know much at all until right now.

She was born Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin in Paris in 1804. She became George Sand, a 19^th century icon in women’s literature who sparked the imagination of 19^th Century American women, including Emily Dickinson and Margaret Fuller, the latter idolized Sand’s lifestyle and ideals. Her influence continues in the United States today via, among other scholarship, The George Sand Society which has officers from both UC Santa Barbara and University of Massachusetts, Boston.

Sand’s self confidence would have been threatening had she not been so successful in her work. She often dressed as a man and her eccentricities unfortunately sometimes overshadow her literary contributions to the world. She penned more than seventy novels though some only think about her life in relationship to her love affairs, especially her liason with composer Frederic Chopin.

Her friend Honore Balzac, a respected French Novelist from the realist school among whose ninety one novels include amongst them strong psychological studies,  describes George Sand in this way:

“She is a female bachelor. She is an artist. She is generous. She is devoted. She is chaste. Her dominant characteristics are those of a man, and therefore, she is not to be regarded as a woman. She is an excellent mother, adored by her children. Morally, she is like a lad of twenty; for in her heart of hearts, she is more than chaste–she is a prude. It is only in externals that she comports herself as a Bohemian. All her follies are titles to glory in the eyes of those whose souls are noble.”

"We cannot tear out a single page of our life, but we can throw the whole book in the fire. "

“Guard well within yourself that treasure, kindness. Know how to give without hesitation, how to lose without regret, how to acquire without meanness.”

“The prayers of a lover are more imperious than the menaces of the whole world. “

“The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul.”

“Try to keep your soul young and quivering right up to old age.”

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

Bookends: Favorite Path to Walk? Mine is to the Heart and Soul of California Poetry

Describe the path to a favorite place of yours to walk in 2012. What’s meaningful about the place or the journey?

The path I will share with you lead to my most heart moving view of 2012. They are like bookends:  I walked it in early January, 2012 and I walked it in December 2012. In the months in between I held its memory close and dear.

Some background: I am deeply passionate about women writers, poets and artists in history. I am especially fond of women who were firsts or who changed things or who were eccentric and loved, sometimes beyond belief.

I can’t remember when exactly I discovered Ina Coolbrith, but it was profound love at first read. She has been dead for many years, after all, so I haven’t ever met her in person, but I have walked some of her paths. The most stirring view comes from a tiny slice of a park in San Francisco’s Nob Hill.

In January 2012 when my children and a couple friends of mine were visiting the bay area, it was my most important goal: to be at Ina Coolbrith park at sunset. When I made that goal I didn’t realize the park faces the East Bay so away from the actual sunset, but what I love seeing about this time of day is the light, anyway. The sun itself is cool, but the way it casts light is what gets my heart all stirred up.

My traveling companions somehow didn’t hear my repeated quest to “be at Ina Coolbrith Park at sunset” so when we arrived and they plopped me out of the car at Taylor and Vallejo, an almost inhuman crest of one of many hills in San Francisco, I was so thrilled I let them leave to ostensibly find a parking spot.

I walked contemplatively through the park. I sat with my notebook and wrote. When I got a call about fifteen minutes later from my daughter saying, “We got some pizza, we’re ready now!” it flicked a switch in me I didn’t know was there.

I was not budging from my perch and no one was going to make me. Chinese food in the East Bay be damned, this was a place honoring my beloved and I would not leave until after sunset!

I wrote about it in early January, if you would like to “hear” more and read the pictures.

Just last weekend I returned, this time alone with my notebook in a gentle rain. It was forty degrees. I was more than a little chilled as I sat on the same bench and wrote in my notebook. This time I arrived on foot, managing the ridiculously steep path one slippery step at a time.

I would’ve written in the rain if it was a monsoon. Again, no one could get me to budge from this spot of my beloved. Not Jack Frost, not rain, not dogwalkers or thoughts of “Hurry to make it in time for the concert at Grace Cathedral!”

I moved at my time and I picked some lavender on the way out, so I could continue to be accompanied by my dear friend, Ina, throughout the day.

It is a most lovely, most transformational path I can’t stop talking about with both dear ones of mine and complete strangers, especially those who live in the neighborhood and have no idea who Ina Coolbrith was: the first poet Laureate of California – in the Country, actually. The first anglo child to arrive in the state of California (in a covered wagon!). She attended the first schoolhouse in Los Angeles and was friends with the likes of a young Mark Twain and Bret Harte. Her influence on a young Jack London was so great, that he wrote of her praise of him as a child and told how it impacted him even years later when he was a successful writer. The dancer Isadora Duncan knew her, too, and she was great friends with another beloved woman writer of her day, Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Together they did a lot of work on behalf of women in the early twentieth century.

I love this path so much that I completely lost track of time and have written many more words than I expected to write.

That’s how it is with especially wondrous paths. You just don’t want to stop walking or writing them, bringing those footsteps and views to life again.

 

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Sc

More Photo Collages: Featured Authors JK Rowlings & Anais Nin (with some surprises in between)

I wanted to post some photos of my word-love flowers in their upcycled vases but alas, I left my camera at my besties house so instead, here are a couple of my latest women author photo collages.

I created some of JK Rowlings specifically for my daughter. I want to do more with the pencil sketch of Rowlings, though, am thinking I will watercolor her so it is more vibrant without relying on the photo editor.

The photo above  is of Anais Nin in 1920 along with some flappers from this era. Love the way the two, together, turned out. Will also be doing more along this vein… but here is where I am today.

 I aim to work on my pendants today and do more with my word-love flowers. They are so pretty! Yesterday I spent much of the day watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies and sculpting flowers from book pages. Yes, I was in Word-Nerd heaven.

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

Pretty Pendants of Literary Women: Laura Ingalls Wilder, Alice Eastwood & Busy Busy

Weekends, I know, are supposed to be times of rest so I should have a lot more time to spend on my projects, right?

Wrong! I feel like a chicken without a head and when I realized yesterday I was almost a day without a project, I finished up several pendants. Naturally, it is mid-afternoon the day after but that is just how it is….

Do you recognize the writer whose face peers from this pendant?

This is Laura Ingalls Wilder:

Here is a lesser known author/naturalist who was a powerhouse for other women in science circa the turn of the 20^th century and beyond. Her name: Alice Eastwood.

How is your creativity flowing this weekend?

 

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

  Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She leads Writing Camp with JJS & this Summer will be traveling throughout the US to bring this unique, fun filled creative experience to the people wherever she finds the passion & the interest.

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Women in Literary History (and me) from A to Z: Laura Ingalls Wilder, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Charlotte Perkins Gilman and Eleanor Estes

I spent much of my time last night with Eleanor Estes and Emily Dickinson.

Both women are fine company for a woman writer of today.

I was dying pages of Emily’s poetry and ironing pages of Eleanor’s book, The Middle Moffat, to use in future art projects. It was so meditative and so much fun and a great compliment to the photo editing I have discovered, the project that says, “Oh, I can be so close to them visually….”

Here’s what I mean.

When I was a little girl my writing hero was Laura Ingalls Wilder. I adored her. I still do, actually. I have read about the controversy, that it is her daughter, writer Rose Wilder Lane who wrote the Little House Books, that Laura was simply the inspiration. I have heard that stuff and I don’t even care about it.

I love Laura for the character in the books and also for the woman who lived a rather tough life yet came out, in the end, an individual who contributed to society.

I created two photos of us yesterday and today. Can you see me in this one? I am hiding amidst the trees, writing. You and I are among the few who know (and I can secretly appreciate) the photo of me I merged with Laura was taken in Emily Dickinson’s garden.

I also feel compelled to spend time with Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who rebelled against her parents and married one of her fans and correspondents, Robert Browning, and fled to Florence so she might feel well. Together they had a son they named, appropriately, Pen.  Well, his actual complete name was Robert Wiedeman Barrett Browning, but Pen seems so much more like his parents than all those official sounding names strung together.

Elizabeth reminds me my love for my children is fierce, perhaps more now that I have cancer and am fighting back. I remember her husband’s line, “Grow old with me, the best is yet to be.”

One of my latest heroes is Charlotte Perkins Gilman, who fought depression and won. It was an ongoing battle, raged throughout her life, but she won. She won! Without medicine!

She is also a mother of a daughter named Katherine. She changed the world with her words. I merged these photos of us and the outcome gives me chills.

Some of you will recognize Eleanor Estes and others wonder why her name sounds vaguely familiar.

She was an award winning children’s author, born in 1906, when one of my grandmothers was six years old and one of my grandmothers was two years old. She became a children’s librarian after she graduated from high school in Connecticut.

I imagine the books offered a lot of inspiration.

Just like her books offer me a lot of inspiration today. I was dying pages from The Middle Moffat  last night, reading words and admiring the illustrations. I enjoyed, too, the words and characters named Nancy and Jane. My mother is named Nancy and her good friend was named Jane. It helps make me feel so familiar with Estes and her work.

What women writers will you spend time with today?

What writers in general will you spend time with today?

Let me know how it goes - I would love to hear from you.

 

Follow me on Twitter: @juliejordanscot

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Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield.

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© 2012 by Julie JordanScott

Creating Paper Flowers: Another Way I Practice Feminism

I attended a twitter chat recently and met some incredible women there. One of the take aways for me was the concept of "practicing feminism."

I have been walking around living the question, "How am I practicing feminism today?" It has helped me consciously create opportunities to talk about equality of women in literary history or anything simple that is walking the walk of feminism and not just talking about it.

I have enjoyed it so much - and then I realized something that made me even more excited to practice feminism in a tangible way.

For the past fourteen or fifteen months I have been working on a body of work called “Women’s Sphere.” Each work of art focuses on images and language about women’s roles and how women’s lives have been played out across the last few centuries.   I share images and language illustrating how things have changed and how things are still so similar to the way they were hundreds of years in the past.

When my daughter had a tea party for her fifteenth birthday, I gave a little speech about  for centuries women have gathered and used tea as their “reason for gathering” but in small groups like this, women learned, contributed to politics and business, eduction, human rights and more. Mostly they gained power and built power between women.

I had made such an effort to make it an ultra-feminine day.

I realized some people might not have gotten the woman – power – feminism I was teaching these high school aged girls who had donned gloves and hats and pretty dresses .  One young woman  came dressed with a dress shirt,pants and tie in a more masculine look which everyone welcomed, too.

I was reminded through Emma's tea party that my Women’s Sphere pieces were primarily lamenting some of the “cultural expectations” of women and seemed to downplay some of the glorious aspects of being a woman.

The stereotype is men get together to watch football games. They scratch themselves, burp, tell stupid jokes and share stories of sexual prowess.

The stereotype for women is we sit and gossip and talk about fashion and glitz and glamour and who is looking better and who has the better boyfriend or husband.

I was never into the whole glitz and glamour scene or the gossip scene, but I have always loved very pretty, conventionally “girly” things, so why should I assume these are not “Women’s Sphere?” objects to create?

I changed that this past weekend when I started taking my painted papers and crafting them into flowers. I am having FAR too much fun and after another evening at play, I have come up with some “second generation” flowers.

You’ll have to watch here as they develop. I figure they will make a reasonably priced piece of art for women (and men!) to purchase that will introduce them to the concept behind Women’s Sphere as well as share about the papers that have been repurposed and the woman represented in each particular flower.

It doesn’t get much more fun than this.

What do you think of my Women’s Sphere flowers?

 

 

Follow me on Twitter: @juliejordanscot 

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Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. 

Did you enjoy this essay? Receive emails directly to your inbox for Free from Julie Jordan Scott via the Daily Passion Activator. One inspirational essay and poem (almost) every week day. Subscribe here now -

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Powered by us.groups.yahoo.com  © 2012 by Julie Jordan

 

 

Will the Feminists in the Room Please Stand Up. Ummmm, please? Anyone?

I refer to it as my “Normal Rae Moment.”

It happened when I took a course at Bakersfield College: Introduction to Women in American History, even though I have my degree.  I took it as what I call “my non-chemical anti-depressant.”

I needed to be sure I had to show up someplace beyond schlepping my kids around and being home. I figured if I had paid for the class, bought the book, and starting going to classes I would be compelled to continue. I knew on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 9:30 I was expected to be in my seat, two rows from the front in the middle.

I didn’t expect it to be so life changing. I only took this class because Ethics of Living and Dying was full before I had the chance to register.

I worked harder in that one class than many of the classes I took when I was earning my B.A. thirty years ago. I was devoted. I talked about what I was learning to my friends all the time. I was taught in the old school way. We didn’t learn social history. We didn’t learn about women’s contributions to anything important. We learned about wars and presidents, basically.

This was different.

I also identified myself as a feminist. When I started this class I had been involved with the VDay Movement started by Eve Ensler to Stop Violence Against Girls and Women, partially through using her script “The Vagina Monologues” to raise money for local community groups.

I never gave thought for a moment about whether my fellow students of women’s history defined themselves as feminists or not.

I can’t remember what the occasion was, but I was busily writing something in my notebook when our professor, Ann Wiederrect, asked “How many of you are feminists.” I raised my hand and kept scribbling.

My professor said, “Julie. I see.”

I put my hand down and my head up.

I was the sole person in the class who defined herself as a feminist. I was dumbstruck at first. How could none of them call themselves feminists? Were they still stuck in the stereotype that feminists were all man-hating, camouflage wearing butch women who shook their fists at “the rest of the world” and marched around occasionally spewing man hate into society?

For whatever reason, I had a photo of my daughter tucked into the back of my notebook. It is one of my favorites and had been entered in an art show in the past so it had a suitable name:

Feminist, Age 10.

When it was my turn to speak my words came out in flames. My words and I were steadfast, slow-burning, hot but not scorching, passionate but not condescending. “This is my ten-year-old daughter. She is a feminist. She wants to be seen as equal with everyone regardless of gender” and other things which got lost in my fervor.

I passed the photo around, said a few more words and sat down, still mystified.

When the class was over, most participants – even the sole man in the class – were newly identified as feminists.

Average, run-of-the-mill community college students who finally understood just the tiniest spoonful of feminism and for some, were left thirsty for more. Like I was and am and will continue to be.

For reference, feminism equals “movement to end sexism, sexual exploitation, and oppression”, including but not limited to oppression based on race, sexual/gender identity, disability, class, and age.

Follow me on Twitter: @juliejordanscot

Be sure to "Like" WritingCampwithJJS on Facebook (THANK YOU!)

© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She leads Writing Camp with JJS & this Summer will be traveling throughout the US to bring this unique, fun filled creative experience to the people wherever she finds the passion & the interest.

Did you enjoyed this essay? Receive emails directly to your inbox for Free from Julie Jordan Scott via the Daily Passion Activator. One inspirational essay and poem (almost) every week day. Subscribe here now -

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