Teaming with Life & Brimming with Possibility

Today, at the Hillock, there were awesome egg sacs in the tiny pond. They look like the big BullFrog type, but I’m not sure. So beautiful! Glistening, moving, billowing with so many new possibilities…I was so awestruck that somewhere I misplaced my phone…my one piece that reminds me that there’s another time bound world that calls as well. I know it will turn up. It always does. I’ll be patient until the weather report says rain. For now, the ‘jingle book’ is brimming with possibility and waiting for little i’s to be dotted and t’s of technology to be understood. Meanwhile there are mysteries whispering by the mossy hillock…to breathe in and out.

Who Are the Characters at the Hillock?

Hillock Photo

While I’m setting everything up to publish the Jingle Book, I’ll keep working on the Hillock stories. If I can’t see the characters that I’m writing about, there are a few different ways I could go:

•I could just make them up! Since that’s what we do with most of Life: make up our own stories and interpretations of Everything! Actually, I already have quite a few characters: Slab, Claire the Cook, The Queen’s Cook, The Fairie of the Castle of the Heart, The One-Winged Bird, CritterSeahorse, The Artist, The Writer, Preena of Preena’s Spa,The Stone Mason, Twigs at Twilight, and a few more.
•I could look for clues: like the holes in the ground, the tiny tree frogs that hop right in front of my feet like they want to tell me something quick! and then hop away. After all, the earth is presenting us with mystery and drama moment by moment, we usually just don’t pay attention.
•I could look ‘within’ and see what voices come forth. There are so many things I’ve just learned about life while being the caretaker and the mosstender of the hillock.
•I could keep looking at less likely but more obvious possibilities for characters: trees, roots, rocks, the Hillock itself, a Map (of the Hillock or of some mission or to some treasure), the pond (reflections), birds! hmmm…birds!
•I could accept the fact that the characters are hidden, not visible by me, or that they no longer live there
•I could be the character!
•If the characters are no longer there, or are hidden, I still might need to have some way to know what they’re thinking….perhaps by ‘mail’ at the world postal box, or maps, or messages left in the bottle at the bottom of the old aqueduct, or by bird or worm messengers, or through sound? bells?
•If the setting is the character
•I could let the hillock be a microcommunity of our whole world and see how it plays out.
•And then there are all the visitors over the years that I’ve noticed down at the hillock. Box turtles, green snakes, black snakes, toads, tiny frogs, giant bullfrogs, snails, slugs, lizards, birds,
I’m open to other suggestions if anyone wants to comment! Thanks!

Hatching Process!

 


Hatching stories is quite a process! And sometimes the eggshell waiting period makes perception do unusual things. For instance, in this partially hatched painting, the eggshell also looks like both a sunrise and a sunset, a starting and a finishing.

Hatching is Hard! I know I will hatch through this process, and right now, I am also struggling with what to write. I feel more and more like the little lizard with the egg shell over his head. I can’t see where I am. I can’t see where I’ve been. I can’t see where I’m going. I can’t even see myself in the process at times. And, I can’t see what characters are next to flow through me. It’s a tight feeling. Seems like it should be a freeing feeling… to live in the unknown…to step out not knowing what my foot will find to support me and not knowing which direction to go.

I’m also in a place of waiting…waiting for Apple to get back to me giving me the ‘go ahead’ to publish my first book. Waiting for all the loose ends that I THINK I’ve tightened up to ‘show up’ that way! Waiting for the last few details to fall into place. Waiting to find out what other details I haven’t handled that i don’t know about yet. Waiting to find out how much the next steps will cost. Waiting until something comes together as FINISHED! PUBLISHED! And then, waiting to see if it even matters, if anyone out there enjoys reading it. And probably the biggest ‘waiting’ of all is for me to just let go of it…and move on to what’s next.

And then there’s the unknown of what am I going to write next? I keep pouring over all my words, my reams of things I’ve written, trying to decide which to work on next. Then, I toss them all aside and put a blank page in front of me….and continue the reams…Maybe the illustrating would be more fun! But does it have to always be fun? Dunno…I do want my passion in it.

My passion right now is down at The Hillock. Every day it’s ‘down to the Hillock with Lacy and Francklin and a bucket and my little shovel. It’s really got a life of its own. I’m just working on the ‘infrastructure’…I think that’s the word…the road systems, the misting systems, and interfacing them with the dwellings. Adding dirt, rock, and a little bit of moss here and there. Actually, most of the moss is just spreading from what was already there in the beginning. Setting up ‘waterworks’ for warm weather is important. And the more I’m there, the more I begin to see elements of the story unfolding. What i can’t see is the plot, and some of the characters, and I don’t know who is telling the story. I’m sort of just watching… Maybe the dogs are a part of it…but I don’t think so. Maybe there are animals…again I can’t tell.

The holes… seem to be the most mysterious part of the Hillock. And the ‘unseen’ characters. When are they there? Are they the Twigs at Twilight themselves? I don’t know yet. It’s hard to write a story about characters I don’t see.

Maybe the story IS about the little lizard with the eggshell on his head….
Ohhhh the chaos before it ALL comes together in some shape…meanwhile, I’m just looking and listening for something…signs…sounds…

The MossWhisperer

There is a MossWhisperer, I’m sure of that because I’ve heard her whispers. What she actually looks like, I don’t really know. The picture below is a crafted attempt to make ‘the MossTender’ out of a wooden doll I found at Goodwill. Someday I hope to paint ‘the MossTender’ but actually, she’s not the MossWhisperer. I think she just hears the whispers of the MossWhisperer more than most since she’s so close to the earth and its song. Yet from what I can surmise, ANYONE can hear the MossWhisperer, if they truly listen.

Who is The MossWhisperer? I only know what she DOES, for now…
The MossWhisperer listens…and through the mist comes a distillation of all that is…
She listens… to minglings of the night…to coyote and redwolfed triumphant howls mixed with baby screams of precious prey, dove croons, whippoorwill quails, and owl whoos mingling with windshrill cries as they crush air through cracks in the forest…to the mighty pines as they creak and tip themselves towards final breaking points…
She listens as morning harbinges hope for a new day, an new way.

The MossWhisperer feels…needing no eyes to see the grandeur of the lowest carpet of the earth, the textures that tell all…
She feels…the earth’s cool moisture that grows from twilight and forms an invisible envelope at its surface right where it needs to breathe.
She feels…the sun drained sweat of the earth …it’s lifeline for the day until night comes again, or rain drops by for a surprise visit.

The MossWhisperer smells…the soft earth’s sweat signaling that there’s enough!…assuring us that moss will preserve the earth’s water in its cells for all living things.
She smells…a scent reminiscent of moth balls, preserving all that is needed of the past to live in the present…only air and water taken from the atmosphere and radiant sun to grow chlorophyl.

The MossWhsiperer recalls…that ancient life is going on…in us…through us… and beyond us…

The MossWhisperer lets go…of struggles & stress…
She lets go…of pressures to figure out…of fears that freeze us…of distractions that lose or lock us in noisy dark closets we humans often create.
She lets go of needing…of wanting to be heard through the noise.
She lets go of frantic communication…
She just lets go…and

She LISTENS to the Earth’s whisper and then she herself whispers one word, thankyou, aciu, thankyou to All who together create her as she is this moment. And that is enough. She is enough. All is enough. Moss…prepares the present…and creates pillows of rest and renewal for all of us, and for all of life’s processes to go on…Oh…to listen as she does and learn from our ancestral storage of water and spirit! Oh…to listen to mosses…we will be renewed, restored, replenished and rebirthed!

About to Hatch the Next One?

writershouse

The Writer’s House is on the northwestern end of The Hillock, just above the World MailBox and below Owl’s Tree. An interesting thing to note is that there are quite a few holes in the ground near the house, with openings about as large as a silver dollar. And there is one hole that is covered with the bottom of a glass bottle, so you can see down into the hole in sort of a magnified way. Or is it so someone could look up from below and see things above in a much larger form? These holes are truly there, but didn’t make it into the camera’s eye…hmmm…wonder if they have something to do with a writer’s point of view? hmmm…

writerbeforenewbook

I’m not sure if this little guy is a character in the next story or if he is really just representing how I feel right now…as I’m fine-tuning things on the last book, learning the ropes of self publishing, and hatching ideas for the next one! Hmmm…maybe I should play around with him as a character. Actually there is a dwelling at The Hillock, called The Writer’s House. It’s under Owl’s Tree and just above the community World Mailbox. There’s a small pencil in a green jar attached to the house and quite a few bits of leaf stationery floating around. Children in our neighborhood actually leave little notes in the tiny mailbox. There’s something so magical and life-giving about communicating with the unseen and unknown. Writing in different languages and spellings doesn’t seem to make any difference to the readers. Somehow there are connections with one’s ‘inner knowing’. So this little ‘lizard guy’….must be pretty trusting to be moving about without seeing where he’s going. I know that’s how I’m feeling about this writing process, especially putting it ‘out there’ for everyone (the unknown) to see, even when I can’t see where it is going or I am going. Hmmm…writing inside one’s own egg…walking while writing…trusting while writing…writing while trusting…back to the breathing thing. There must be some light coming through…something that keeps sparking the process. Perhaps there’s an advantage to keeping our eggs over our heads while we’re trying to focus on growing something. Less distractions, only room for emerging thoughts that feed your purpose. Hmmm…a writing egg…more intimate and fueling perhaps than the old writing carrels in libraries. And this little guy’s shell was pretty flexible, more like a breathable space helmet.

Francklin Waits for the Next Stories to Unfold

Today was just too beautiful to stay inside! Francklin, our three-legged dog, who is my forever patient and playful companion, has found his top dog mound on The Hillock where he surveys the scene, always ready to bound into action if there is a stick flying through the air or if he can get my attention with his ball! I’ve been fine tuning the paths and walls. For some reason I am getting The Hillock ready for SOMETHING, not sure what. I’ve always wanted to have a ‘tea’ or some gathering here in the spring. And new dwellings seem to be popping up in anticipation of something! There are so many stories emerging from the mysterious mounds! Maybe after I finish publishing “What Makes a Jingle Ring,” I’ll have space in my head to hear the MossWhispers! Ready for the next Adventures!

About the Author

Whoops! Didn’t want this to post in such a large way! Writing About the Author has been so much harder than writing the whole book! Here’s my first attempt! In fact, posting anything while I’m tying up the ‘loose ends’ to this book has seemed very complicated. I’m learning that it’s much easier when I’m ‘in the story’ rather than starting or completing it!

 

IMG_4851

Ann Gordon remembers magical moments as a child: playing at the roots of trees, creating villages carpeted with moss and making little people adorned with their acorn caps. During her 30 years of teaching, what mattered most to her was that children have a chance to experience their own ‘aha moments’ and to explore ways of expressing themselves.

        She and her husband, Alex, live in the country with their two dogs, Francklin and Lacy. They take many meadow walks enjoying symphonies of spring peepers, owls, and crickets in the evenings. They enjoy traveling to explore this incredible world and to keep up with their three children.
Ann spend lots of her days writing, working in her studio, tending her moss creations and developing the Hillock Village in the Meadow. Each day unfolds magical moments of self-discovery, and adds pages to new books being written. For Ann, the process of putting word to print and painting color to paper keeps her forever learning and surprised by the hidden mysteries of creativity.

The Observers

Today I spent working on finishing touches to the Jingle story, and some time procrastinating on the next finishing touches. Nothing to post yet, so what can I write tonight? Tonight, was the dogs’ turn. On all their trips each day down in the meadow, they have gathered matts, thorns, and burrs in their fur, and I’ve just been painting and writing away!
Francklin and Lacy, lay at my feet, watching me. If they’re waiting, only I imagine that they are ‘impatient’ and ‘wondering why I waste my time with computer and brush and pencil, mostly eraser.’ no they just lay there and watch, observe, with that wise knowing look of persistent patience. Even now, if I move towards the door, they have learned to not jump up the first time, but rather to watch and wait, until I have made many trips back and forth, gathering shoes, contact lense, cell phone, and all the other paraphenalia that I seem to think I need just for our walk down in the meadow. They KNOW, just know when the last forgotten thing has been gathered, and then they bound to the door, and only then go out if I make that final step over the threshold. Then Francklin grabs a stick from the kindling basket by the door and bounds off on his three forever young legs, while Lacy makes up a four-legged romp to signal PLAY! And off we go! I carry my bucket for gathering rocks along the way. By the time we get down to the hillock, the bucket is full and putting the pieces of the cobblestone puzzle together begins! I am always amazed at how each piece has a perfectly fitting place as long as I’m willing to turn and rotate it to ‘see it another way’…Isn’t that just IT! To be open and willing to ‘turn and turn til we come round right, in the land of peace and delight.’ Or however the Quaker song sings it! And how easy it is to think ‘we know’ the way it or anything should be!’ I can think of so many times of frustration in my life when I’ve tried so hard to force things to match my point of view, when really what I need to pray is: there must be another way of seeing this! please help me see it! This whole cobblestoneway puzzle has been such a meditation in practicing being open to another way of seeing. Then comes quickening my trust process to ‘let go’ of my way so I can see the other! And all the while, Lacy and Francklin, just sit and wait for me to let go of each stone as it forms the way through the hillock. No judgments, no expectations, except maybe a stick every now and then. So tonight, I just write what comes, no judgments, no outlandish expectations. And I guess that’s just it…writing…just like breathing…

The End!

Good thing I’m almost done with paintings for this book! These are the last of the colors on this palette. I’ll need to create a fresh palette when I start the next one. Little guy is clearly elated to have discovered the process for making a jingle ring! And the little birds seem thrilled to have figured out how to play hopscotch! Looks like he’s lost ALL the buttons on his vest! Must add them later! Now for last bits of editing and proofreading.

What Makes a Jingle Ring? (possible cover page?)

Either I’ve just really missed this little guy and had to run into him again, or still had feelings of not being complete. Either way, I decided to do two more paintings of him. Here’s the first one and is my idea for the title page…though I may add one or more of the birds.

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