On the 75-year journey of becoming a writer/artist

4th grade: magazine image of a gondolier in Venice. 

A soap bubble of imagination rises with a yearning

to tell his story, too soon popped by the sharp prick of reality.

Recess plays written by Charlene Storm, acted out by four little girls.

One budding playwright submits a script in tiny, unreadable words. 

First rejection.

Books: magic carpet portals to other worlds. 

Story-gifts from the gods.

Safe-haven for a lonely, unseen wanderer.

10th grade: a picture on a wall, dark and misty, 

a lake, a windmill, a house on a far shore.

words rise unbidden, weaving a story:

a woman, a man, a connection across time and space.

A beckoning to tell their story forces words onto paper.

Pages tucked into a class notebook

remain a story untold from a writer undeclared,

as intention to share is silenced by fear.

College: flooding of dark words playing themselves into poems,

creative writing classes with wild man and storyteller, William Foster Harris,

red-inked submissions returned with no encouragement.

Tiny, unremarked diversions from the path of real life.

Real Life: numbers, assets and liabilities, income statements

overshadow periodic leaking of words onto the page,

beloved IBM Selectric hidden in a cramped under-staircase closet,

secret submissions to magazines and journals, 

fat returned-manuscript envelopes, form letter rejection slips. 

 

(years scroll by until ... )

New Editor: rejection-proof newsletter: MindPlay, editor Joyce Wycoff.

Content: whatever sparks curiosity and interest.

Slowly, a small group of followers emerge.

Suddenly, a book contract appears, and then a book.

One day, at the checkout counter in a bookstore,

a woman stands holding a book with a bright blue cover:

my book. 

At 45, I became an author. It would take many more years

to understand that I am a writer. It is what I do; it is how I

process the world. It would also take the upheaval that came

with losing my spouse to realize I needed the combination of

words and images to say the things I wanted to say.

If I had been particularly astute, I might have learned that

in the fourth grade. 

 

Now available at BookBaby Store

 

Still available almost 30 years later.

Corona Wisdom: glimpses of a world radically changing

NOW available in hardback from BookBaby:

UPDATE: In the meantime, this virus goes on displaying new tricks and devastating lives as it goes. Today the vaccine began to be delivered ... may it reach every one of you quickly and end this time of such stress and division. 12/14/2020

Eighty days ago I began a journey of trying to capture the essence of a pandemic in words and art. The expected 30 pages have mushroomed into over 100, so it is time to wrap up this project. I wanted to end the journal with lessons learned and expected a long list of inspiring takeaways from this time.

However, days have passed with little result. Closure eluded me as I began to review where we’ve been since late February when the first inklings that this might be serious crept into our consciousness.

Since then, we’ve reached 100,000 US deaths, and one thing is clear: the common refrain of “We’re all in this together,” reveals itself as a cruel joke on so many levels.

Emergence

Deaths are clustered around old age and the lethal combination of poverty and contributing health conditions. Approximately 40% of US deaths were residents of nursing homes and assisted living centers, and people living in poverty are twice as likely to die as the middle class and wealthy.

A similar inequality exists on the economic side of this pandemic. The capital of the wealthy is actually increasing and middle-class professionals are working from home with little impact to their incomes or life-style, other than a few less exotic vacations and gourmet restaurant meals.

The working poor, gig workers, and homeless however, are being devastated, not only losing their incomes, but also their health insurance, and often, access to security programs such as unemployment. Endless lines at food banks are common and the token payment of $1,200, intended to help people through the financial crisis, isn’t enough to touch the needs of most poor families.

Peace Egret

So, what are my takeaways, from this time of crisis? One lesson relearned and three questions.

THE LESSON: Times of stress and crisis bring out the worst and the best in us.

    A few examples of the worst that made me despair:

• Bazookas in a sandwich shop.
• Spitting on people just doing their jobs.
• Threatening the lives of anyone who disagrees with you.
• Armed protests for the freedom not to wear a mask.

    A few examples of the best that have lifted my heart:

• A man playing his grand piano from a gondola on the canals of Venice.
• Anonymous donors paying off student loans.
• Amateur pilots flying medical supplies to rural hospitals.
• Health care workers risking their lives to treat patients.

And THE QUESTIONS:

Do all lives matter?

Do all deaths matter?

Does our planet matter?

It it easy to respond:

Of course!

However ...

Actions speak louder than words and I’m not sure our actions are consistent with those words. These are deep, complicated questions with no easy answers.

If the lives of our elderly truly mattered, would we house so many of them in substandard warehouses? Only the truly well-to-do can afford the price of top notch care facilities. Plus, the salaries of care workers in all facilities are abysmal, resulting in astronomical employee turnover and a revolving door of under-trained people caring for our elders.

If the lives of everyone mattered, would we have streets in every city in America where the homeless wander aimlessly, often sick mentally or physically, lacking adequate food and shelter?

If the lives of everyone mattered, would Native Americans be facing loss of tribal income, staggering unemployment, and inadequate basic services such as clean, running water?

If the lives of everyone mattered, would children go to bed hungry in one of the richest countries
in the world, and almost a third of our people lack affordable access to health care. 


Rememberance

If all deaths mattered, what would we have done differently during this pandemic? The United States is one of the richest, best educated, and most sophisticated countries in the world. The Department of Defense budget for 2020 is $721.5 billion. Couldn’t part of that budget be focused on protecting us from the ravages of a pandemic? 

There is a huge amount of technology focused today on extending our life expectancy, perhaps even removing death from natural causes from our concept of life. Most likely, these options will be far more available to the 1% than the rest of us. Is this what we want?

And, last but definitely not least, does our planet matter? We’ve seen amazing changes in the past three months … cleaner air, clearer water, animals returning to places they had abandoned. We’ve seen changes in how we work, how we do business, how we relate to our families, our neighbors, our communities. We’ve done what we previously thought impossible, because something we can’t even see said: STOP! Will we begin to treat the planet as our only home or go back to our self-destructive ways?

We need to have serious conversations about these very complicated questions. There is a huge bucket of blame for the loss in life and economic security from this pandemic, however, at this point, placing blame will not serve us well. There is enough to be shared by all of us since we’ve all played a role in creating the current state of our planet. 

Tree of a different time

The bottom line, for me at least, is the understanding that we need to decide who we want to be as a people and then create the systems, the institutions, the government that will take us there. 

How can we foster these conversations?

If you would like a free online copy of Corona Wisdom, please click here.

Corona Wisdom back cover

There is a limited edition print version of this work ... unfortunately, the price is limited-edition ridiculous ... $50 shipping (includes US shipping). Contact me if you would like to order a copy.

Love Letter to My Life #23: dancing through time

"Dancing through time"

by Joyce Wycoff 

(We know the day we were born, but most of us do not know the day we will die. This love letter to my life is written on the day I've designated as my death day, the 17th of every month, and reminds me to be grateful for my incredible life.) 

 

 I love Google.

Recently, I was thinking about my life and the dance of time and money when one of those odd memories popped into my head: “time is money - look in the clock.” I remembered it was from an old sitcom and vaguely remembered it being a mystery sitcom. That’s where the synapses parted ways and left me in the dark.

Until I googled the phrase and this answer, given twelve years ago, popped up in a forum:

Yes, this was on My Little Margie. They went to the house of a dead millionaire to find his treasure. His parrot kept saying "Time is money -- Look in the clock." But there were thousands of clocks. There were also sliding panels, secret passages, and a chair that dropped you down a chute into a big net in the basement. Most of the regulars sat in that chair eventually. I especially remember Margie's father Verne going down the chair. (There was a similar chair in one of the original Topper movies).

Taking it a step further, I discovered that My Little Margie aired from 1952 through 1955. I must have seen it when I was about 10 because that’s when we first got television. The Wikipedia synopsis triggers more memories:

Set in New York City, the series stars Gale Storm as 21-year-old Margie Albright and former silent film star Charles Farrell as her widowed father, 50-year-old Vern Albright. Many of the shows episodes are still available but apparently “Parrot Gold,” which features the line about time and money, is not available.

So, back to the dance of time and money. Most of my life was focused on career and money. However, 2008 changed all of that as the economy unilaterally decided I was retired. It took several life-style readjustments before my income and expenses began to balance out, but now I am in a lovely place where I can live on my Social Security, which is good timing in this covid-19 world of financial turmoil.

What I’m rich in right now is time … and a willingness to be open to whatever comes my way. Almost two years ago I began the practice of celebrating my death day every month on the 17th. It seems to create a momentary vortex, a black hole that sucks new energy into the mix of my life. Flitty little things like memories from an ancient sitcom as well as things with a little more substance such as the incredible book Ten Thousand Doors of January.

My standard process as I near the 17th is to watch the ideas showing up that I might want to write about. Often words and sentences start to form, especially in the twilight hours of the morning. I hold them loosely, letting them develop like steeping tea. More often than not, they turn flat and are replaced by other possibilities. 

This month seems to be following that pattern. A couple of days ago the theme of time and money appeared with that little sitcom phrase. I followed that lead until it stopped, and then waited. Apparently it was done and I needed to move on.

Corona Curiosity aka Corona Wisdom

Yesterday, a new thread dangled itself in front of me. Since the early days of the coronavirus pandemic, I’ve been creating a journal of sorts about it, exploring the rich field of new learnings and endless drama. At times, I’ve felt like I was on a mission to synthesize this unique experience and tease out actions and stories that represent the whole of the pandemic. In the beginning, I expected this journal to become a little book of 30 pages or so. It is now sitting at 112 pages and I have begun to wonder when it will be complete.

The new turn began as I read about the mental health problems being created by the stress of the disease and financial devastation. My intention was to create a two-page spread in my normal format, synthesizing the issue and pairing it with an inspiring quote and a piece of my art. But, things changed along the way. 

Change #1: Suddenly I became clear that I was part of the problem. I was writing about these times in a way that amplified the stress and fear. I had to stop. I want to spread peace and kindness on the water, not add to the divisiveness of these times. I didn’t want to stop writing about this pandemic, but I wanted to do it in a different way: instead of feeding the negativity monster, I wanted to share wisdom and create peace.

Change #2: As I decided I needed to lessen the negative input I was absorbing from social media, I spread my yoga mat and clicked onto my browser to find something soothing to listen to, instead of my normal chanting playlist. I’m not sure how it got there, but the tab I clicked was on a TEDtalk by a Shaolin master, which was automatically followed by a talk by a Buddhist nun. That seemed like a confirmation of my new direction.

Not that I want to be a Buddhist nun or necessarily even a Buddhist. I also know I don’t want to be rich or famous; so, in our western society’s view of success, the question is always ... what else is there? 

 

That's what I was trying to clarify when I recently went through a 5-year planning process. The result of that thinking showed me that what I really want is to keep learning, creating, connecting with myself and the Universe, and sharing what I’m learning. This is who I am or at least who I want to be.  This is what brings me delight. 

 

Of course, the Universe and the 7 billion other inhabitants of this planet are buzzing around creating circumstances that will ultimately affect me. Just as I can't imagine that five years ago any of us would have thought we were sheltering in place, wearing masks, and watching an unseen enemy make mincemeat of our lives. So come what may, my job is to stay focused on my four priorities: LEARN-CREATE-CONNECT-SHARE and keep my actions in line with them.

Stay safe and find ways to feed your spirit.

TEDTalks: 

Master Shi Heng Yi – 5 hindrances to self-mastery

My Path To Becoming A Buddhist | Emma Slade

Corona Wisdom, gathered glimpses during an unfolding pandemic

Click here for complete magazine version

Title change: curiosity sparked this work and I am still curious about where this pandemic may take us as individuals, a country, and a planet. However, along the way, I believe I have found some wisdom and began actively seeking the wisdom of others. It seems time to change the title.

5/16/2020 Update: when I began this journey, I had been self-quarantined for about ten days following a trip to Florida. Obviously, like everyone else, I had no idea where this journey would take the world or me. On March 30, the United States had 2,601 deaths and was shutting down. This morning 86,571 US citizens are dead, the curve hasn't flattened yet people with assault rifles are protesting in various state capitals.

A couple of days ago, I realized that I am part of the problem, adding to the negativity on social media. So, I've switched gears and will seek wisdom for the rest of the journey. I've also set a stopping point for this work: May 30, 2020. The pandemic will be over, but my gathering of glimpses of it will stop. Who knows what will happen after that.

4/20/2020 Update: this activity has become a major focus that calls me to explore this strange world. Slowly I've come to realize what an amazing time this is. Our parents and grandparents survived two world wars, a major economic depression and some were even around for the 1918-1919 pandemic. From the baby boomers on, we've had it relatively easy, and now we're being tested.

I don't think any of us would have requested this experience, however, it is shaping us in ways we won't understand for some time. Like most major events, it is bringing out the best and the worst in us and every day I learn a little more about the world, my fellow humans and myself. Corona Curiosity gives me a place to put some of what I find. For the current magazine version, click here.

3/30/2020: The main thing that seems to calm my heart and my mind right now is art and writing. From this need Corona Curiosity was born  as I wonder where our world will be when we reach the end of this crisis and what we will learn along the way. I don't know where this is going or what it intends to be. I'm trying to just show up, listen, and record.

I've assumed it will take the shape of a photo essay book since that's where my passion is right now. So, everything is being put together as pages. 3/30/2020: I'm up to 17 pages so I'm putting them into a magazine format and will update it periodically. To see the latest version, go to Corona Curiosity.

I believe fully that "this, too, shall pass," but my goal is to  come out of this challenge feeling more productive, more creative, and grateful for what I have learned from the experience.

Stay safe and find ways to feed your creative spirit. joyce