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Saving our Lives

 For the last month, I've been teaching a writing class at my local community center.  It occurred to me after meeting many retirees in a Tai Chi class that many of these folks have great stories to tell and that doing so would enhance memory and social interaction.  The later, of course, is vital in these post COVID years.   I've been pleasantly surprised at how this little class is going.  I figured that if  took all the best practices and prompts from my teaching career and offered them in an non-threatening manner, that there would be interest in spending an hour a week meeting and then doing a little homework to rekindle the declining art of "creative writing."  Of course, all writing is creative writing, but people sometimes need permission or at least a vehicle to go ahead and indulge in the practice. At our age, we write to save our lives, literally and figuratively. At our last meeting we read and discussed models where we write about our fami...
Recent posts

How Blue Can You Get

 I've been reading Imani Perry's fascinating collection of essays called Black In Blue, which is a brilliant meditation on the color blue in Black culture.  Aside from the many historical references and anthropological connections between the significance of the color blue in African and African American culture, Perry delves into many areas that might not be well known to those outside the culture.  For example, the way we know where the graveyards for many who were enslaved were is through the presence of periwinkles on the ground, planted there.  Former slaves were not allowed to have grave markers (imagine that!) so their descendants marked the sites with blue periwinkles so they could be located and remembered.  Another thwarted attempt to erase the past and strip people of their identity. The book goes into important explanations of blue notes in the development of the blues and jazz music.  But there are other connections present that extend all the...

Walk in My Moccasins

 They are soft.  That makes them feel good on your feet.  These palomino colored moccasins are custom made.  When you go to the shop, you take off your shoes and they trace the shape of your foot on paper.  This blueprint for your pair begins the process.  The leather is seductive.  It's hard not to stroke it.  It's tactile, like the softness I once felt inside a horse's ear.  They lace up and afford ankle support.  I love that they go perfectly with blue jeans.  I wear them daily from Spring 1967 to early 1969, when I alternate them with Frye boots.   "Moccasins by White Hawk", were made by artisan Win Fairchild, owner of Fairchild Woodcraft, a Blackfoot Indian crafts store in North Hollywood, California in the 1960s-1970s. These Moccasins make a statement.  They are part of the uniform that says I work for the counter culture.  They say count me in as one who values social change and social justice. I'm aware o...

A Personal Writing History

 Next week I start a new adventure.  I'll be teaching a writing class for Seniors who want to write about  some of their most memorable experiences.  "Writing from Memory" will be offered at my local community center and is open to people 60 years of age or older.  I decided to offer this class because in recent years I've met a number of older folks in my neighborhood and this idea has always been met with a positive response.  Aside fro teaching some writing skills and providing a platform for reading and getting feedback to their work, my main goal for this small group of "students" I will have is to simply have fun.   One of the introductory activities in this class will be to write a personal writing history.  This will serve to introduce us to each other and inform me and my students what experiences, issues, skills, and expectations are in our little group.  Like everything else, I will complete each task and prompt with everyone. ...

What A Life

 Tomorrow is the memorial for my mother-in-law, Betsy Minkler, who passed about a month ago.  She lived to be 100, and died shortly thereafter, as if that marked the finish line.  A perfect 100.   When a person lives to be 100 or more, their life becomes a paradigm for the century they experienced.  Born in 1925, the Roaring 20s were in full force.  One could easily argue that the 2020s are shaping up to be quite memorable in their own way.   Betsy's century on earth was marked by World War, a "Great Depression," the development of Television, modern cars, space travel, global warming, the rise, and dare I say, the domination of technology in all phases of our lives.  Betsy rode in all manner of cars, from the early Fords to the electric Toyotas.  She dialed phone numbers and she spoke on phones where she need only touch one number to be instantly connected with a friend.   And friends...she had many.  Betsy was a people person, onc...

Signs of the Times

 Like many in this country, I made my way to last Saturday's rally and march to speak out against the Trump regime's attempt to capsize democracy.  Thousands joined me at Naito Plaza in Portland.  Similar  marches were taking place in every major city in this country.  It was time, again, to take to the streets and put our bodies on the line. I went by bus with a group of friends and neighbors from North Portland.  We were soon separated by the huge crowd, but no matter, we were prepared for that and made sure everyone knew how to get back home and felt free to exit the large crowd whenever we felt necessary.  At 78, my marching days go back to the late 1960s and it's hard not to compare experiences.  Of course the technology has had a major impact.  I noticed that all the speakers at the rally held a cell phone from which they occasionally referred to for notes on their comments.  People were constantly snapping pictures or making video...

The New Invisibility

 There was a time, not all that many years ago, when you wore your politics like clothing.  If your hair was  or wasn't a particular length, then it could be assumed that you supported or didn't the U.S, war in Vietnam.  If you wore beads around your neck, or shunned button-down  shirts or suits, then you must think this way.  Even your age, or there appearance of maturity would cause people to assume things about your values or beliefs.   This is still true in some ways, especially for younger folks  sporting tattoos, or piercings, or wearing certain styles of clothing.   With age, though comes liberation.  Case in point.  A couple of weeks ago I came to this realization on a freezing cold morning as I traveled alone across Oregon and on down to the Bay Area.  I'd spent the night in a cozy mountain lodge of a motel in Shasta City, the small town in the shadow of breathtaking Mount Shasta.  Anxious to get going the next mo...