Tag Archives: Creative Process

Routine

Today began different than a usual Sunday, with the first flutter of eyelids. We were sleeping in — a glorious sleep-in on a Sunday, unheard of since I started going to church 7 years ago.

The Husband has been up late nearly every night for the last three weeks working on our porch: Stripping off old aluminum siding, repairing the siding beneath and preparing it for a new coat of paint, painting, painting, stripping old paint off the wood floor, painting, stripping more paint off the wood floor, painting the ceiling, removing blue paint from the cat, and then removing blue paw prints from a freshly stripped floor… you get the idea.

While he works at that, everything that usually resides on the porch is in the living room. Also while he works at that, we cannot enjoy our porch as we normally do 75% of the time during spring and summer, including all mealtimes. It doesn’t feel normal that it is sunny and 75 degrees outside and we are drinking coffee in the dark dining room…staring at our porch furniture in the living room.

So this morning when The Husband didn’t have to play drums in church (yes, that is normal), we both took the day off. We slept in, until the extravagant hour of 8am when he had to get up to return the floor sander rented last evening from those evil people in orange smocks. What a wild life we lead.

The routine really went off the rails when I was going through my bathing repertoire and found myself doing things out of order. I actually “harrumphed” to myself when I realized it.

I puttered, straightened the house (as best I could within a construction zone), folded laundry that came out of the dryer just yesterday (a new record), chatted with neighbors, walked the dog, got ready to go to an early dinner, shopped for groceries on the way home, and generally felt both well rested and efficient. I even ate ice cream.

Then I got a weird feeling. Weird like sleeping in on a Sunday when I’m usually at church. Weird like I’m doing my shower routine in the wrong order. Weird like it’s 8pm on a Sunday and I haven’t written my blog post.

Weirder yet…I didn’t think about it once today. Not even when I opened my laptop to randomly look up shoes online. I’m usually much more conscientious.

One tiny change to the day’s routine was all it took. Or, maybe it was the continuous weeks of interrupted household routine, with the porch construction zone, my husband turning into “that guy who works on my porch,” and the obstacle-course living room.

I love the outcomes of these house projects, but the weeks (sometimes months) of discombobulation can be slow torture for a creature of habit (I know, First World Problem.)

I do much better on a routine.

Christmas Crafts

Linoleum block cutting and spoon print.

It looks better from a distance. Like a Monet.

One Christmas my mother made candy wreaths for our elementary school teachers. She bent a metal coat hanger into a perfect circle then painstakingly tied red and green curling ribbon around the hoop, adding peppermint candies along the way. She was very good at making ringlets with a quick zip of the ribbon between thumb and a scissors blade. The wreaths were a fun, creative and inexpensive way to say “thank you.”

I’ve never quite mastered the ringlet-making – about 3 out of 5 times I get it right. My sister, on the other hand, is making wreaths for every season and holiday these days.

There is my mother the ribbon ringlet wreath-maker, my dad the Macy’s-worthy gift wrapper, and my sister whose teacher’s penmanship is the crafter’s equivalent of a “tell.”

I have crafty ideas, but my execution is at about second grade level (don’t even get me started on wrapping gifts). The year that my husband and I had our first apartment, I collected pine cones, dipped them in glue and then in glitter. I used a glue gun to attach red and green ribbons.

My husband thinks the pine cone ornaments are cute as heck and digs them out every year, no matter how hard I try to hide them under other, more desirable, decorations.

Even though my crafting efforts largely disappoint (me), I still get that itch to create.  And I believe that handcrafted items have special meaning.

So when I decided to make Christmas cards to send to the people who were a part of my writing year, I turned to the two-dimensional craft that I can do with acceptable results: Block Cutting and Spoon Printing.

My first try was a miserable failure. I forgot some of the rules I learned about keeping the design simple and allowing for deliberate imperfections. I forgot to include a border and didn’t heat my linoleum block for easier carving. I just gouged away and swore every time a brittle section broke away and ruined my vision.

The resulting prints were awful and I dramatically declared that I was done trying to be crafty.

The next day I started over.

Candy Cane Block Cutting

Sketch, cut linoleum block and print. I made this!

I followed the rules. I took my time. I used softer linoleum and wasn’t too timid about adding more ink to my palette.

The resulting cards are not Laura Wilder-level prints, but they are handmade, by me.

I put my heart into these cards because I am so deeply appreciative of all the people who played a role in my first year as a freelance writer. I could not have told any stories without them. Including this one.

Ode to Noel

Dawn & dusk dog walks –
Layers increased over the weeks
As thin sunlight decreased.
Please poo near a streetlight.

Shortest holiday season –
Thanksgiving fights for its 3 weeks
As The Jolly One encroaches.
Doorbusters! The bird is barely carved.

Black Friday.
Small Business Saturday.
Cyber Monday.
Christmas club (remember those?) Spent. And then some.

Carols, bells, trees, and wreaths,
Unpacked from attics and hearts.
Assaulted by holiday product-placement
Since before All Hallow’s Eve.

Sacrilege if on the radio last week,
Now: Commence the jingle bell-ing!
You know the words, and sing along
In spite of yourself.

So many gods to worship;
Bacchus, Retail, Low APR, a homeless newborn…
Will the Mayans cheat us?
“Fear not:
for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.”

Interesting People: Ron Zorn

A series where I revisit the fascinating stories of interesting people I’ve had the opportunity to meet while writing for a living.

Have you met a Renaissance Man? Also known as someone whose skills and interests lie in a number of subject areas?

I have. I met Ron Zorn back in June while writing about him for the Suburban News. The editor had heard through the grapevine about a retired teacher “with an intense avocation of creating scenes of war battles in miniature. His work is very detailed,” she wrote in an email. There was never more understatement in five words.

I arrived at his and wife Alice’s home on a gorgeous late spring morning. Pulling into the driveway alone was a feast for the eyes. The lushly landscaped front yard draped before a log cabin house and huge detached garage.

Ron designed it all himself and built the cabin over the summer of 1995. This was not a kit log cabin — the logs were shipped from the Ozarks in Missouri and he cut each one himself, according to his design. As you can imagine, everything is perfect. By the end of that summer, Ron’s son-in-law, who had barely picked up a hammer before that, was skilled enough to go on to build his own house, as did Ron’s son.

A soft-spoken, unassuming Ron sums it up as, “It was great. We had a good time.”

Inside the log cabin was like a picture out of a lifestyle magazine. A downstairs great room is full of museum-quality antiques and furnishings, the ultimate kitchen for cooking and entertaining, cozy nooks for sitting and reading, a fireplace, and even an access loft for the attic that doubles as raised “exhibit space.” An enormous oak beam runs across the ceiling holding up the second floor.

Antique swords, rifles, Winslow Homer prints, rustic tools, and books, oh, the books! The volumes are stacked two deep on some bookshelves. These people are collectors. I mean the Zorns collect like nobody’s business. The guest room is also known as the Snoopy Room. You can imagine what that means.

Most of the books, though, are history related. The reason why I was there to interview Ron was because he re-creates battle scenes from the Revolutionary and Civil Wars. He does this by casting and painting little lead soldiers (1:32 scale for model nerds). Thousands of little lead soldiers. As in, probably TEN THOUSAND or more little lead soldiers over the last fifteen years! Like Leonardo Da Vinci, Ron’s interests are not merely casual.

The battle scenes and the soldier creation (a 12 step process that involves molten lead) are the tip of the iceberg, perhaps just a symptom of having so many interests. Ron taught high school Physics for nearly four decades, and all branches of science to his children and grandchildren over the years.

He is an athlete – a champion college soccer player (Google told me that, not Modest Ron) – and an artistic talent, inherited from his mother. Each little lead figure is accurately painted with some of his brushes just a few bristles fine.

Ron’s basement is a wonderland. In addition to the lead figure workshop and the thousands of soldier’s lined up awaiting orders, there is a Christmas village, lighthouse village and model airplanes hanging over a model train set. On the wall behind the train village are glow-in-the-dark stickers accurately portraying the constellations.

Cast lead figures by Ron Zorn.

Ron creates, with first his mind and then his hands. The lead figures are not limited to soldiers of the Revolution, War of 1812, and the Civil War. He also casts and paints Santa Clauses, Mrs. Claus, Snowmen, fine Antebellum ladies, nutcrackers, and sporting figures, including little dribbling soccer players that he hands out to the team he coaches. He does this to share with friends and family the art and science, and also the wonder, attached to what these figures represent.

What I most loved about meeting Ron was his spirit of wonder about everything in the world and his resourceful approach to life. He likes to say that he always has one eye on a microscope and the other on a telescope. “Look at the little things and the big things, and you wind up looking at yourself.”

To read the article I wrote about Ron for Suburban News, click here.

An Ode to Fall

Autumn view of leaves and lake by Mark Osterling

Oh, Autumn, how I’ve missed you…

–Hark! Fleecy vest

You are welcome warmth,

but not on my arms,

Because, though the air is cool,

The noon sun is still bright.

–We stock cider and Octoberfest ale

To drink with steaming chili

At a suppertime growing dimmer;

Sun sets earlier

Every day.

–Pumpkin

Thy girth increases,

Thy green skin ripens

To orange;

Prepare to spill your guts.

–Afternoon tea

In my cup,

Sans ice cubes.

I missed you, green, roiboos and jasmine.

And even you, hot Lipton.

–Maple Leaves

Your bravest have let go already,

And I crunch you underfoot.

Soon, there will be too many more to crunch

Than I will have footsteps.

–Equinox, you are a great switch

To sandals off and sweaters on.

An annual whispering in my soul;

Quiet, too soft to clearly hear, then this benevolent embrace

To walk me gently toward winter.