"Words have a weight to them. How you choose to present them and to whom is a matter of style and choice."
" … I believe my own voice continues to be found wherever I am being present and responding from my heart, moment by moment. My voice is born repeatedly in the fields of uncertainty."
"Earth. Mother. Goddess. In every culture the voice of the Feminine emerges from the land itself. We clothe her as Eve or Isis or Demeter. In the desert, she appears as Changing Woman."
~ Terry Tempest Williams, When Women Were Birds: Fifty-Four Variations on Voice
There is so much I'd like to say about this woman, this author. She holds me breathless ... traversing her stories, treasuring the exquisite expressions felt through her words. When Women Were Birds picks up the story of Terry's mother's journals … the journals I first learned of while reading Refuge.
"A story grows from the inside our … if I begin traveling with an awareness of my own ignorance, trusting my instincts, I can look for my own stories embedded in the landscapes I travel through."
"A story allows us to envision the possibility of things. It draws on the powers of memory and imagination. It awakens us to our surroundings."
"Story is a sacred visualization, a way of echoing experience. There are lessons along the way."
~ Terry Tempest Williams, Pieces of White Shell
In all of the author's books, Terry's voice is strong and clear, and yet each book is a distinct image. I admire her ability to hold her voice, soft or crisp, no matter the topic. And she is able to balance her story within the context of the alternating story of place, something I aspire to do in a few of my WIPs.
I'm grateful to have come across this author; she is inspirational on many levels.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
In Memory of Pooka*
October 22, 2000 - September 10, 2014
My dear little Pooka The Perfect Puppy! Okay, so I was a bit partial from the get-go; I'd been hearing about him from the breeder since the day he was born. I drove up from our home in Maine to just outside Quebec City – in December during a snow storm -- to adopt the wee fella at 8 weeks old and he’s been a dream dog! He was easy to raise, to housetrain, to teach, to love, to live with – he got along with everyone, didn’t bark too much, rode with me in the car absolutely everywhere while in Maine, greeted new people with enthusiasm, and was a pure joy that brightened every day. His Daddy said that Pooka was a Momma’s Boy and…okay, he was! He was completely adorable, and everyone loved meeting him.
|Day 1 with Pooka|
He had his quirks that made him all the more special ...