Category: Creative Life

Blogging, painting and poetry by DiVoran Lites gently wrapped in one of her delightful stories

Writing~What is Easy What is Hard

Mary Harwell Sayler, doyenne of Christian Poets and Writers has asked writers to tell her what we find easiest about writing and what is hardest for us. I’ve been thinking the questions over and I’d like to tell her these things.

Blogs are easy for me, though I’m sure she’s not asking what genres we like or don’t like. But I’ll tell you why I find blogs such a pleasure to write. Like journaling they let me re-live good experiences twice. Take the blogs I wrote today: one was about going to see the “Gone With The Wind Exhibit” in Orlando on my birthday and one was about a fall Saturday when I got a lot out of ordinary things. Both of these will be on www.oldthingsrnew.com on a Monday at some point.

I’m going to get a new phone one of these day with a really good camera because I’ve discovered that whether I go out for a meal, take a walk, or finish a piece of artwork, it’s probably going to flow from my brain and heart in a blog and I’m going to want pictures. Quite likely if I don’t take notes, I’ll wish I had those too. All my senses are keener when I know I’ll want to write about the experience, and I’m convinced I enjoy things twice as much. While things are happening my brain is recording. I see a string of third graders riding bikes on the trail and ask their leaders what’s going on as they pass. I count the children – eighteen. When I got to a neighborhood yard sale, I want to tell who I saw, what I bought, and the reasons for everything. Once I got overly nosy like a real reporter, and got “thrown out” of a big library. I wanted to know about all the homeless people I saw hanging about. I thought it was great that they had a splendid place to be in the daytime. The woman at whose desk I sat to ask my questions apparently thought I was there to make trouble. I can’t talk about that she said primly and clamped her mouth shut. I said, “Oh, okay,” and left. Now, I’m more interested than ever, of course, but I won’t pursue it as a real reporter might.

Memoir, blogs, experiences, descriptions are the easiest things for me, the hardest task comes when I’m writing a novel and must come up with a new scene. What happens next? Then my imagination groans and labors like an old furnace starting up after a halcyon summer off.

Everything we do has hard and easy parts to it, we do it anyway, especially if we are called to it and have found that we love it. So that’s my answer for Mary Harwell Sayler’s question. I’m glad I was inspired to think it through. Thanks, Mary.

DiVoran at computer

Finding Our Way Back

THe old mill and pool

 

When our children were young, Bill and I loved to go camping at the springs and when the kids became teens, we took one Sunday off each month to camp, because Renie and Billy, and Bill and I were all so busy we didn’t have time to be together, or to talk. Yes, we missed church once a month, but we usually had a sweet service of our own, and everything turned out fine in the end.

We invited the young married people in our Sunday School Class/Small Group to come along. We were all close because we prayed together, commiserated with one another, helped each other through “stuff” and studied the Bible together. That weekend, Onisha and her family went, Pam and hers went, and The Crouses and their three children went too. I don’t know who else. If you were there, let us know.

Decades later, Pam, one of the people from that group, and I drove over to Ponce de Leon Springs for breakfast and a look around. We went to the Old Mill where you cook your own pancakes on a griddle in the middle of your table. The waitress asked if we’d been there before and I said I had and I told her jokingly that Pam thought she had been there.

“If you only think you’ve been here, I’ll explain the menu,” said the waitress. “I’ll bring pancake batter in our signature pottery pitchers, the one with the red speckles holds our special blend whole grain batter, the blue speckled one, has white batter. Spray the grill with the oil and pour out enough for your pancakes. You can order nuts, bacon, sausage, and eggs, too, if you want. We’ll cook those for you.

The griddle

 

Every time I’ve been to De Leon Springs in the past forty-five years, the same woman was waiting tables. Of course she was younger in the beginning and so was I. I’ll always remember how airy she looked in her tee-shirt and tiered cotton skirt. It could get very hot in there with the grills heated up, even though the fans were going. There was always a room full of people and no AC, just big open screens that showed the out-of-doors to perfect advantage.

Inside view of restaurant

 

I always think of that woman as the quick, friendly person who was working with her family who owned the place with her family and since my novel, Sacred Spring, was published, I’ve wanted to give her a copy, because in a way, I used her for a model for Elaine in the story. I was thrilled to see that as always, she was on the job. I told her we were old customers from long before the state bought the place. Her eyes lit up when I gave her the book and autographed it for her. She was so pleased, she gave me a big hug and because of her joy, I too, felt wonderful.

Pam and I then sat and talked for a long time. We like to talk about our grandchildren, books, our association with Rebekah Lyn Books (Pam is the public relations assistant). We talk about our churches and about movies. After a bit we decided to walk and talk. The Garden Spring Run and the pool itself take your breath away. We went into a tiny museum that has many beautiful historic photographs of Ponce de Leon Springs and the buildings. They have three ring binders full of newspaper clippings about archeological digs that have taken place there.

The museum was in a small room in this building.

Museum

When we finished the museum we thought we’d walk up the trail to see Methuselah, an ancient cypress tree, but it started to rain. Because we’d left Pam’s raincoat, my umbrella, our hats, and our “rubber” shoes in the car, we decided to retrace our steps, even though we got rained on before we arrived at the car.

We were happy. We’d found our way back to our first years as friends and to our children’s childhoods, and now we are finding our way back into a precious friendship that we both became too busy to nurture. It’s so comforting growing old with people you’ve known for a long time. Friendship surely is the dew of God for our lives on this earth.

 

To learn more about De Leon Springs, it’s history and activities visit their website.

http://www.planetdeland.com/sugarmill/

You can also purchase  Sacred Spring on Amazon by Clicking HERE

 

By DiVoran LItes

 

I’m Beginning to Figure it Out

 

Blue Music copy

 

Things are coming together for my art now, things I couldn’t figure out before. It’s difficult for me to write and do art on the same pages, but now I think I’ll go ahead and take some of my Biblical paraphrases from my regular journal and put them in my visual one with drawings and beautiful colors. They’re just the ticket when I need something to remind me of God’s love and lift me out of the doldrums.

I have several unused, mixed-media visual journals, Strathmore makes different sizes. I’ve used the “8” x “12” and the “8” x “5” trying to decide which one I like best, and I’m now getting ready to use the “8” x “5”. They will receive wet or dry media, so they’ll be fine for what I need.

Meanwhile, as I wait for my new books to come in the mail, I’m reading one I didn’t really like too much at first. After I’ve read a few pages I have to jump up and get to work (I mean get to playing). I’m so excited and so happy. I’m going to have a bit more vacation, and when I get back into the Go West drafts, I’m going to have visual journaling as a well-established habit so I won’t lose it again. Oh, and here’s really good news. I’ve prayed for years to be able to give up TV at night, but I had to watch just about everything I could find on Netflix at least twice before I got bored enough to give it up. I felt in my bones that I could spend my time better doing art or just about anything in the evenings including reading and going to bed earlier. I’m loving it.

Here’s a page of paraphrasing from my regular journal. You’ve probably seen things like this before. Some call it personalizing, others call it dialoguing with God. This kind of writing comforts me and lifts me.

Beloved:

Anyone who signs up for the kingdom of God has to go through plenty of hard times. I’m here, helping you through them – getting you out of them, and making you stronger and making your faith stronger as you go. You are my beloved child in whom I am well pleased. I am with you all the way.” I believe that is the Holy Spirit talking to me, and it’s not about whether to write or paint, but about my relationship with Him.

After I wrote that I went on to write about the beginning of the day.

“The light out here on the porch is gorgeous today! There’s a kind of gold in all the green. A pileated woodpecker flies over cuck-cucking his loud call, and then, as if he needs more notice, wings over again seeking attention by flapping around and making a lot of noise.

Other than that, the morning is still except for work-time and tourist traffic up on I-95, a blue jay’s “swearing,” a squirrel’s “purring” itself back to sleep, the AC, a train, and a private airplane overhead. I have my own Classic Solo Piano station going (Pandora) and the music is so beautiful, I feel expansive and grateful. Thanks for reading this blog.