How do I pick up the pieces?

I realized I’ve been absent from this Blog since August. Wow! I’ve been on social media, but mostly on my Iphone.  That said, I have been micro blogging via Instagram. Although I still write in my journal, I ‘ve somehow grown accustomed to typing quickly with a finger or two or a thumb in my phone’s Notes pad.

I then cut and paste into Instagram with a photo and voila, I’ve p
osted tgoddess-windowshere along with Facebook, Twitter and Tumbler.  Color me lazy. Haven’t figured out how to get it to post to either of my Blogs yet.

I’ve also been in my studio painting.  But with that too, it’s easier to take a quick Iphone pic and upload on Instagram with a mini Bloggy post. The painting on the right sold almost as soon as I posted it. Loved it so much I’m going to do a series on the theme of alternative windows.

I’ve also been cooking and sharing pictures and recipes of the result, but and again instead of Blogging it as I used to do, it goes straight to Instagram. And as always, Jazzmine expects a bite of whatever I’m eating.img_3835

Now with a new year before me, and this most contested election behind me, I’ve decided to actually sit at my actual PC or alternately my Surface Tablet and post here at least once a week for starters.

Pretty much everywhere on social media I am Perle Champion.  But on Instagram I went with Perlesrose if anyone wants to follow me there.There’s an inside story to that handle. It is shortening of Perle alias Rose. Maybe I’ll tell it some day. ( https://www.instagram.com/perlesrose/ )

 

 

 

Sunday. That’s My Funday

The moment calendar days can be seen on next month’s page, I impatiently fast forward to that page. IMG_8737

I’m inking in all the things I’ve planned for April.

Yes, I have an online calendar – but I still put everything on my kitchen calendar.  It’s on the small sliver of wall space next to the counter that holds the coffee pot.  I like seeing my month at a glance as, I pour my first cup of dark brew.  Mom says my coffee is more espresso-esque.

Last year’s calendar was doors as incentive to open new ones. This year I chose butterflies which symbolize metamorphosis as incentive to…

Bacon is in the oven, as I’m too lazy to nurse it on the stovetop. Jazzmine is purring loudly in the chair across from me as the aroma fills the kitchen.  She’s hoping for a taste or two. I’m sipping my third cup of coffee, just poured my first glass of champagne and watcIMG_8738hing CBS Sunday Morning on the tiny TV in the corner of the kitchen.

I love Sundays. Cheers y’all

 

Are You Ready for NaNoWriMo?

It’s almost that time again. National Novel Writing Month is a mere 16 days away.  NaNoWriMo Participant-2014-Square-Button

The gauntlet has been thrown down, and I’ve picked it up again. Every year the good folks at NaNoWriMo invite novelists and wannabe novelists all over the world to write that novel they’ve been ‘gonna write some day’.

Not only do they challenge you to write the novel, but write it now or at least 50,000 words of it within the 30 days of November.  I’ve never had a problem with writing the 50,000 word first draft – Whether any of them qualify as a ‘Novel’ is another question entirely.  I have a few in a drawer somewhere that I edited from time to time.  The best of the lot was my 2012 novel written in early 2001 or 02, which I procrastinated into obsolescence. Yep I was still editing and rewriting when 2012 didn’t happen

Ever the optimist, I’m taking a few of my characters from that 2012 novel and my Murder

is a Primary Color novel from last year and involving them in a mystery.  I’m bringing a lot of the backstory forward as it informs the characters. 

I’ve got a working title (Witch on a Witch Hunt); designed a quick cover on PowerPoint; and I’m clipping pix from magazines for my storyboard for different characters, rooms, locations, etc.  I need pictures in my storyline.

A shout out to Nathan Bransford’s for Blog post on the One Sentence, One Paragraph… Pitch.  I managed to construct one of my own and here it is.

Here is my one-liner: A real bewitched teams up with a Sam Spade wannabe to solve a series of anomalous murders in the year 2025.

X is for Xylan, Xylose, Xerarch, Xerosere.

Day 24 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is X

X is for Xylan, Xylose, Xerarch, Xerosere.

as meridies beats
the landscape’s xerarch creeps
toward xerosere as

sweet xylan begets
sweet nourishing xylose so
replacing dew’s kiss

Nature fascinates in its determined survival. Plants grow in the most unlikely places.

They didn’t sprout full blown in the deserts, mountains, seas, and places yet discovered; they evolved as yellow flowers on walk 3determined by the availability of light, water and surface.

The very rocks and pavements of humans eventually gives way to nature’s determination to bloom where she chooses.

 


 

Note: Xerosere is a plant succession which is limited by water availability. It includes the different stages in a xerarch succession. Xerarch succession of ecological communities originated in extremely dry situation such as sand deserts, sand dunes, salt deserts, rock deserts etc. A xerosere may include lithoseres (on rock) and psammoseres (on sand).

Glossary

  • xylan – water-soluble, polysaccharide found in plant cell walls and yielding xylose upon hydrolysis
  • xylose – a sugar of the pentose class that occurs widely in plants, especially as a component of hemicelluloses.
  • xerarch – originating in a dry habitat as ecological succession
  • xerosere – dry habitat as a desert

F is for Facile Feigned Façade

Day 6 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is F
F is for Facile Feigned Façade

facile tears feign need
façade to suit a motive
once seen we pity

Facile tears and feigned need come easily to some – the façade of needinessWyse in the Garden 1 art darker the only way they garner friends.

In the beginning, the audience is large as they follow along from drama to drama.  They watch and participate vicariously as each living play unfolds.  But the theme and plot begin to repeat again and again.

The steady stream of repetition eventually wears thin; the motives of the face behind the façade become more and more clear.

Slowly the followers’ caring turns to pity; the parade of followers thins then falls away.

© perle champion 4/7/14

B is Balm, of Banal, Banter

Day 2 of Blogging from A to Z.  Today’s letter is B
B is for Balm, Banal, Banter

The balm of banal banter has it place in our lives. Such conversations serve a purpose because they are safe in settings where opinions on more weighty matters such as politics and religion could verge on anger or violence.

In social settings, such conversations serve to break the ice between strangers at cocktail Mom/Ba at MMDDparties and events; build relationships with the service person at a store you frequent; the bartender at your local bar; the waitress at your favorite restaurant; the maintenance man; landlord, or the yardman.

It cost little to make small talk and smile, and the dividends are huge.

In personal settings, such conversations can ease misunderstanding in tough personal interactions and begin to heal some wounds after a disagreement or falling out with a family member or friend.

It’s a bridge called civility that allows both people involved, when they meet in public, to be civil and converse without the ‘you’re wrong/no, you’re wrong’ finger pointing.

The Balm of Banal Banter has its place in our lives, costs nothing, and can build bridges and mend fences that no other type of conversation can.

Do You Name Your Journal?

Dear Kitty was how Anne Frank began her journal  née diary entries.  Our journal is our confidant – giving it a name elevates it’s status from that of an inanimate object to that of a friend.  A friend with a willing ear that we can tell our most intimate secrets, fears and idle thoughts and know the confidence will be kept.

desk 7

Naming Things

diarists address

entries by name pleading for

someone’s attention

however abstract

it matters that an ear hears

else trees fall unheard

© Perle Champion

Do you celebrate solstice?

Winter Solstice is my time to contemplate the past; celebrate my successes; glean a few lessons from my failures; and set a few goals, née, resolutions, for the year ahead.  Darkest night behind me, Sunday morning I brewed a pot of tea instead of20120826-214538.jpg coffee; I set some sage to smoldering beside the candles on the altar and lit one candle in every room around my home; I open a new journal to page 1; and begin to plan for the coming year.

 

perle sherri mmdd 2

This year’s solstice, at least in part, was spent at various parties amidst friends.  By day, I began an early spring cleaning/rearranging of my studio/office (aka my aerie).  By night I enjoyed the festive mingling and conversations with friends; listening to live music, over-indulging in good food and wine.

Still, however late I arrived home on Friday and Saturday evenings, I lit the candles that I had set out before leaving the house and recited my annual evocation, née petition, née spell, for prophetic dreams of the path that lies ahead of me for the coming year.

I am one with the uni verse – See me.

Let me slip easily into the stream of time – Hear me.

Let me acknowledge my past, and accept my now – Help me.

Let me see in dream a little of my path ahead – Grant me.

That given time to contemplate, I may make better choices – Guide me.

As I give myself up to the ‘I am’ and slip into dream. Protect me.

So mote it be.

candles 5

Day 24 Another 3500+ words & 1 Blog Today NaNo / NaBlo

Day 24 of NaNoWriMo Wordcount 50,300/ NaBloPoMo (24 for 24) 

Sunday is my fun day…, and although I don’t really have any more Dilbertville manic Mondays in my life, tomorrow begins Thanksgiving’s home stretch prep with all its incumbent chores, and check lists.

Also, during this NaNoWriMo marathon, I’ve neglected too many other writing and painting objectives on my ToDo list.  Those neglected items stand a better chance of garnering income than the fledgling first draft of a novel I’ve just raced through.  I’m entering my current word count to register my ‘finished/winner status’; printing out a triple spaced copy to let cool off before beginning my red pen editing/rewrite process the week after Thanksgiving; and moving on to the neglected items on my list.  I’ve already taken care of # 1 on my list:

  1. Query one of my Children’s’ picture books to half a dozen agents.  (done)perle with Brie Sabrina cropped
  2. Follow up with the editor at Victoria Magazine to check the scheduling of my essay for their 2014 calendar.  Finalize, photograph and post to Amazon 10 paintings that are in various stages of completion.
  3. Monetize my WordPress Blog.
  4. Contact 10 affiliate markets on my list.
  5. Finish building my website beyond the starter page I threw up a year ago.

And so much more…

Excerpt from Murder is a Primary Color:
The Ghost

The sun could not chase away the chill Jade felt.  She shivered again.  The prospect of mind probe with that man was not a happy one.  James was on his phone already calling in the particulars to his captain, asking for permission for a probe and trace implant in case of escape.  It would take at least 24 hours for permission to probe, but the trace implant was an automatic.  He would try to expedite it if he could.  He could only hold Kane for 48 hours without some hard evidence he told her.  “Ghosts can’t testify and she doesn’t seem to know anything about how this happened.

Jade was walking back to the house, Sabrina draped across her shoulder face forward as she stroked her white fluff of hair just under her chin.  “Not bad old girl, not bad at all.” her thoughts went out.

Hmmmmm, Brie purred, what happened to ‘old woman’?

“Don’t know, old girl, she seems to have left us.”

The kitchen staff watched gape-mouthed from the kitchen doorway.  As Jade approached she sent calming thoughts and then stopping at their door, she smiled at them until she received tentative smiles back.  “It’s OK she reassured them.  This is my good old girl, Brie.  She won’t hurt anyone unless they plan on harming me.  Mr. Kane is under suspicion of wrong doing.  Please go about your business and don’t leave the premises in case we need to ask more questions.  Thank you.”  She walked past them to the hall and up the stairs to the room where that which was once Mrs. Kane paced.

Jade sat in the chair by the fire and waited, stroked Brie and prepared.  Mrs. Kane walked over and sat in the chair opposite her.  “Did he do it?  Did he kill me?  And how can I be dead?  I’m sitting here, you can see me, hear me, and I don’t understand.”

“Life has many levels.  Our bodies are just one of many dwelling places for that life.  You are life, some people call it soul and right now, you still have the form of your most recent body.  You never experienced your death, so you still project this form.  Perhaps when we solve your situation, you will let go and grow and assimilate all your lives and choose to be born again.  Perhaps you’ll travel the stars awhile and visit the planets, and sing awhile with the universe.  There are many options before you now – in many ways broader than the life of your once corporeal body.”

“I want to believe that.  Would you help me?  Right now all I know is, I’m dead and nothing more, and I’m scared”

“Of course, I’ll help you.  For now though, I need a little more help from you.”

Jade prepared as she faced the ghost of Mrs. Kane.

Mañana y’all.

Day 16 Another 3500+ words & 1 Blog Today NaNo / NaBlo

Day 16 of NaNoWriMo Wordcount 24,155/ NaBloPoMo (16 for 16) 

Today is Saturday, and I wrote late into last night and picked back up again from 6 a.m. this morning coffee in hand to meet my word count for the today.  I’m writing this Blog and scheduling it to post tonight at 7 p.m., as I’m picking Mom up for breakfast this morning around 9:30 and it’s almost 9 now.  She and I are off to Cocina Superior at Brookwood Mall for a Mexican breakfast of bacon and egg tacos, thick creamy black beans, fried breakfast potatoes and lots of their smoky hot salsa.

Maybe I should call it Brunch since Mom always has one Bloody Mary and I have 2 or 3 Mimosas and 2 or 3 cups of coffee.  Mimosas and Bloody Mary’s are $2 or they were the last time we were there.  They only open early on Saturday and Sunday for breakfast/brunch.  We always take the third table by the window, so we can watch the activity on the street: walkers, runners, gardeners tending the potted plants and sweeping the sidewalks, and the food wagon lady delivering her home-cooked fare to the wait staff up and down the street.fall yellow leaves 6

By the time we’re finished eating, the stores will be open and we plan on getting a little bit of Christmas shopping and/or looking done.

I probably will not get back to my desk for NaNo

Excerpt from Murder is a Primary Color:

Leaving for Mayax University

Just north of town west of that awesome concrete ribbon that circled the city, called the Loop, rose Mayax University.  It was a city unto itself.  From a hard-packed rocky floor where once you could see for miles, rose man-made edifices of stone and glass and walkways and trees grew where none had grown before

It loomed in the distance as I drove in from the mountains.  The new land rover handled well.  Father had surprised with it this morning.  “So you can always get home, no matter the terrain.  Do well daughter.”  He took my shoulders with his large gentle hands and kissed me on the forehead, turned and went back through the house. 

I knew he would go to his chair on the back porch to smoke his pipe and contemplate the mountain.  As I watched his tall lean figure walking away, I sensed an odd mixture of emotions: love, fear, loss all a jumble – so hard to sort. 

Nanna patted my arm.  “No worry Jadee, no worry.  He is a good man, but just a man.  He never understood you had to go away and now you are back a day and again you must go away.  You were his favorite you know – go everywhere with him, hunt and ride and climb trees.  He is so proud and loves you so much.  Send him thoughts of love and visit when you can.  You can do no more.”

“I always felt loved Nanna; I’ll be back as often as I can.  I promise.”

Then it was mother’s turn.  “Don’t do guilt little one.  You are a good daughter, and we are as good a parents as we know how to be.  Letting go is part of parenting, but knowing it does not make it easier.  You belong to yourself and to your destiny.  Always remember this.  We bear children, but we do not own them.  We share a place and space in time with them, nurture, teach and love them and let them be the best that they can be and that can only happen if they are free. Be free.  We all know you love us.  We will come to see you soon in your new house.  Nanna and I have some things to bring you.   Be well.”

I climbed in the rover top down and was off bag and baggage and a sack of lunch down the twisting path to the silver ribbon that would take me to the city and the House.

Mañana y’all.

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