September 2024 Newsletter

Sooo much going on! A new baby, a new show, free classes, podcasts

Unwound

I ripped the seams of time apart for two glorious weeks. Time had no hold on me. The familiar note of urgency that tightens the muscles between my shoulder blades into an undoable knot loosened and came undone. So undone, it undid me.

I stood up my beautician. I forgot an important event that I was hosting. Luckily, I remembered my hosting responsibilities in the nick of time, and my beautician forgave me and rescheduled.

What could send me into such bliss? A week of doing nothing but rocking a new baby, preceded by several days unhooked from schedules and the Internet with my sweet Prince Charming.

Hazel, with new mom and dad, Tianyi and Ben. Photo Courtesy of Amy Ann Photography

This is the way I want to live all the time. In the moment. Blissed, not stressed. With the knots of stress permanently undone. I keep trying to figure out how to stay in Paradise because I regularly arrive here. Every time I arrive, I'm thrown out of the Garden of Paradise. I am pushed out into the wilds of the jungle of Real Life. And the knot returns.

For a short while, I thought I'd finally figured out how to stay in the Garden of Paradise by going into my gardens. Last Sunday, even as the thermometer and humidity rose, I spent a happy hour cutting bouquets to sprinkle through the house.

Grandma Cass and Hazel

I only found a little time in July and August to cut bouquets. I walked by the empty vases, yearning to ditch the long list of tasks. But I had a solo gallery show, my first, to prepare. As a rookie, the preparation for the show took every single minute of every single day. Saying yes always requires saying no. I said no to my passion and love of fresh bouquets. And the knot between my shoulder blades tightened.

The truth is that cutting bouquets, such a simple pleasure that reliably brings me joy, takes time. I can't or won't go into the garden, cut what comes readily to hand, plop it in a vase, and go about my business.

I wander the gardens, weed, and marvel. I think about the color palette and the meaning of the flowers. I cut and count (an odd number is always best in a bouquet), stumble on something new, and reconsider everything from the meaning of life to the play of flower and leaf in hand.

Back inside in my floral arranging space, I run my finger along the shelves of vases. Nothing fancy here--old bottles recycled, a few lovely antiques, salt and pepper shakers repurposed, thrift shop finds. Which one to choose? Each vase has a story, a memory, and a purpose.

Next, I trim and shape the bouquet. This always requires a second pass in the garden to find one more or something new. And so begins again the weeding, the cutting and counting, the philosophizing. Back to the floral room to finish, then photograph the result.

Finally, placement. This all takes an hour, sometimes two. There is so much wonder and delight in a bullion cube of time. Why is there so often, but not always, this knot between my shoulders as I wander the gardens, pick a vase, and arrange the bouquet? Why do I always worry I'm not doing anything "productive?"

By productive, I mean something the world can value monetarily or as a way to save humanity. Bouquets benefit me. Yes, the door to my house has swung wide to invite visitors in and out this week. And I've received the appreciative ooohs and ahhs from my visitors. And yes, the photos I post online get likes. While I do it for other’s pleasure, I wouldn’t spend the time I do if it didn’t send a hit right to the bullseye of my pleasure center.

What is the saint or flaneur's secret to wandering the world without the anxiety of making or consuming something?

Here I am drinking the blue air of God, the wine-red tongues of roses lick my hands, the verdant green of life soaks my marrow, and yet, the knot tightens. But not always.

So when the knot loosens instead of tightening, I think, "I'm doing it right!" I start noticing what I am doing and how I feel. Like all ephemeral things of beauty, awe lasts only until we notice, and then it shifts, glimmers, and fades like fog. This frustrates me. I double down. Can I repeat ritualistically? Can I label and recreate the experience and release of awe?​ Like a scientist, I look to replicate. But awe exists only in the hollows and quiet places. Awe comes and goes as it pleases.

I'm learning that something is begging me to pay attention whenever I try to rid myself of an annoying feeling or behavior like this knot between my shoulders. Life has some gift it's tried over and over to deliver, which I refuse with a "return to sender."

Is the tension, the knot between my shoulders, the flip side of awe? I don't know where you hold tension--in your neck, stomach, lower back, or, like me, between your shoulders? But wherever it is, tension is begging us to notice. I don't know what tension is saying to you, but to me, it's saying, "This is life! Life costs you something."

Tension is the wire of life being strung taught so that the fingers of life can play across it and make a melody. It's not a signal to hurry, consume, make, or check something off.

What if the knot has a purpose, just as being out of breath when I dance or ride a bike reminds me that life, a full, wonderful, effortful presence, costs something? When I'm tense, I speed up. I run away from the tension but can't outrun it. When I'm out of breath, I stop and catch my breath.

What if tension's gift is release, is wonder, is awe? If only I pause long enough to remember that noticing tension is the key to its release.

xo

Felicia

---

---

A New Exhibition:

North American Review at the Hearst Center for the Arts

2024 marks the 60th anniversary of the NAR coming to Iowa. The Fall 2024 edition features all Iowan visual artists in their fall issue. Warning: a bit of shameless self-promotion ahead. In a bit of kismet of celebrating 60 years of being alive, one of my pieces, Slumming on Park Ave., was selected for this 60th anniversary show.

Founded in Boston in 1815, the North American Review is the oldest and one of the most culturally significant literary magazines in the United States. Contributors include influential nineteenth-century American writers and thinkers such as Ralph Waldo Emerson, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Frederick Douglass, Edith Wharton, and Charlotte Perkins Gilman; and twentieth-century writers like William Carlos Williams, John Steinbeck, Thomas Wolfe, William Saroyan, and Flannery O’Connor. I can’t tell you what a thrill it is to be in such company!

Mark your calendar for the opening reception on Sept. 26th at the Hearst Center for the Arts, 304 Seerly Blvd, Cedar Falls, IA. The show runs Sept. 26-Nov. 27.

---

New Time! Author Seedbed

As we kick off the fall 2024 series, we’re changing time slots for Author Seedbed to 2-3:30 p.m. on the second and fourth Tuesdays in September and October. Next up is:

Unveiling the Craft of Poetry

Join Seth Thill, poet and library assistant, for an engaging workshop on the art of poetry. Explore fundamental poetic forms, uncover techniques for discovering your unique voice, and gain insight into getting your poetry published. Tuesday, Sept. 10, 2-3:30, Waterloo Public Library, Meeting Room AB

---

Missed Emily Stowe at Author Seedbed?

Watch Here:

Double click on image arrow.

Want the slide deck and handouts? Click below.

---

Spark Newsletter With a New Free Class

Find Your Joy

---

September Recipe: Tomato and Cucumber Salad

I asked Denise Hoffman at Hoffman Produce Farms for a new salad to try. She says her favorite ingredients are cucumbers and tomatoes. I can’t wait to try this! What a fabulous way to combine two of my favorite flavors.

• Tomato, Cucumber Salad with Mint

  2 Tbsp & 2 tsp red wine vinegar

  1 1/2 large tomatoes; quartered or if you prefer chopped

  1 1/2 tsp white sugar

  1/2 tsp salt

  1/3 cup chopped onion

  1 large cucumber sliced into 1/2 inch slices

  1 Tbsp chopped fresh mint

  1 Tbsp olive oil

  salt & pepper to taste

  1) In a large bowl, combine vinegar, sugar & salt.  Mix in cucumbers & marinate 1 hour, stirring occasionally.

  2) Gently toss tomatoes, onion, mint & olive oil with marinated cucumbers.

  Season with salt and pepper

  ---

---

Enquirer: Notes of Interest

Little gems I collected this month about art, literature, and nature. Many of these come from your ideas and suggestions. Drop me a note if you find or notice something that amazes and delights. This month, I’m exploring local opportunities for writers.

Call for Applications: James Hearst Writer in Residence 2024-25

Photo by Clark Young on Unsplash

The Hearst Center for the Arts opened a call for a new initiative to create a James Hearst Writer in Residence program. The residency opportunity is open to Cedar Valley fiction and nonfiction writers, poets, songwriters and playwrights. The call for applications is closes on Sept. 27.

UNI: Languages and Literature Calendar

I feel sheepish admitting I had no idea that the University of Northern Iowa has an online calendar for its languages and literature department. What a great way to stay informed about upcoming events.

Waterloo Public Library Podcast: New Season

Seth Thill, the librarian extraordinaire and poet, launches the fall 2024 edition of the WPL Bookdrop podcast by interviewing me about the purpose and intent behind Author Seedbed.

---

---

If you regularly read the Enquirer and want to support me in creating and posting each week, click the subscribe link below.