Letting Go, one of the themes at the Natalie Goldberg silent retreat in Taos, December 2010, collage made of magazine paper, wax crayons, and pen and ink in Moleskine journal, image © 2010 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.
It was strange to find myself sitting in the zendo at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House in Taos, our teacher Natalie Goldberg urging us to Let Go. I had just a few weeks before made the decision to leave red Ravine, although QuoinMonkey and I had agreed to wait until the end of the year to make the announcement. Though not intended as such, the week in Taos could be a test of how ready I was to let go of this special virtual space that had inspired and sustained me for so long.
It was in Taos, after all, that red Ravine was born. The year—2006. QM and I, having already written together for some time, are both participating in a four-season Intensive with Natalie Goldberg. This Intensive is part of a bigger plan I have for myself, a wannabe writer-and-artist withering away inside the body of a corporate manager and breadwinner for my family of four. I am bored and unhappy. I want to write and do art, but I can’t seem to motivate myself to do much with either except to dream about it. QM and I and a couple of others hatch red Ravine over intense working sessions in Taos and through the phone lines while back at our respective homes. Setting up a blog is hard work, but it is also real. For the first time, I am motivated to do more than fantasize about writing and making art. red Ravine promises to be the impetus to actually producing.
Those first two years of creating red Ravine, QM and I worked our butts off and had a blast doing it. The blog was a perfect outlet for the deep, low creative growl that the Intensive seemed to unleash within us. Some days we posted more than once, and often we had to make sure that we weren’t publishing over one another. For my part, I was making art like crazy. After years of being fearful of the lack of control inherent in a brush (as compared to a pencil), I took a workshop at Ghost Ranch and learned to paint. My corporate job changed around the same time, too. I landed an assignment that took me back and forth to Vietnam. I bought myself a slew of different colored inking pens and began using the long trips back and forth as opportunity to take on a doodling practice.
QuoinMonkey and I worked surprisingly well together. We were both committed to the idea of a creating a space where we would each be inspired and where we might inspire others. She brought to red Ravine and to me her strong values around Community and Giving Back. Her thoughtful and thorough turtle complemented my quick and often irreverent spirit. (What animal am I anyway? The brown bird, I guess.) We found ourselves in synch whenever we wanted to try something new or make a change. We pushed each other to do our best.
what I learned
One of the things I love about Taos and Mabel’s place is how they never seem to change. Here I am, early December 2010, and I’m crossing the same flagstone patio that I walked those years ago back when red Ravine was still an infant. Over the past several years, I’ve brought my daughters here, and my husband. I bring my father back each year after we clean his parents’ graves in Costilla, 42 miles north. One summer he laid some of these very flagstones,when he was about 16 and living on Morada Lane in a house with a storefront.
It doesn’t matter what I have accomplished, what roles I have taken on in the years since I’ve been back. Inside the zendo, Natalie reminds us to Let Go. For me this means letting go of my responsibilities, my ego, any self-assigned self-importance. Here, in Taos, I am zero. In my raw, stripped-down state I feel my sadness. It is deep inside me, under everything else I carry.
My heart breaks open.
Letting Go in Taos means being able to clearly see that red Ravine was, in fact, the catalyst for change in my life. It means being grateful for everything I’ve learned as a result of opening up to others. Because of red Ravine, I’ve had a place to publish my writing, to experiment with and share my art, to meet other writers and artists. red Ravine has been Muse, sounding board, supportive audience, friend, family, mentor.
I started a fledging business because of the creativity that flowed out, thanks to red Ravine. Because of this blog I’ve learned to commit to and follow through with my practices; to make jewelery; to turn unpolished writing into finished pieces; to put my creative self out into the world. I used to think I couldn’t finish anything; it took having this blog to realize that I’m an actualizer at heart.
Of course, there are downsides to setting and realizing intentions. Jim long ago gave up complaining when I’d spend hours socked away in my writing room. But I don’t take for granted any more, not since April of this year when he collapsed on the bed clutching his heart, that he will always be there waiting when I need to take a break. And my daughters—full-fledged teenagers! Just today I accompanied my oldest for nearly an hour while she drove us all around town, adding experience under her belt in preparation for graduating from learners permit to drivers license. I don’t have much time left to influence their lives.
letting go
At the December retreat, we walk the dirt trail out at the morada, just down the way from Mabel’s place. Natalie often takes her students there. The day we go, boys and men from Taos Pueblo run past us in the cold air. I feel alone and sheltered in my layers of warmth, and for a moment I am homesick for family and our traditions.
My parents are old now. They’ve passed from the stage of old-yet-mostly-healthy to being old-and-frighteningly-frail. I visit them every Sunday. All year long I struggle to keep up with everything I have on my plate. Some weeks it feels impossible to eke out even the simplest of posts.
QM is a rock. Her posts are—like her—consistently high-quality, thorough, and deep. I am honored to have worked with her for this long.
A good friend of mine who a few years back started up his own blog had this to say when I told him I was thinking of leaving red Ravine: “Blogging has no exit strategy.” Which is another way of saying that unless you’re getting paid to do it, blogging is a labor of love. This particular labor has born much fruit.
It has so much more potential, so much yet to become. I’m going to be here, on the other side of the screen, cheering on QM to keep moving it forward. I know I’ll always be proud to say I was a part of creating it.
Thank you for everything you’ve done, QM. Thank you to the friends I’ve met here. So long for now. See you in Comments. 8)
Self Portrait, December 2010, collage made of magazine paper, wax crayons, and pen and ink in Moleskine journal, image © 2010 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.
The best thing one can do is to let go when it is time. If we don’t, we suffer as does everyone else around us.
You are a wise lady. I know it’s a tough thing to do but you’ve recognized that it is time and you’ve moved on that.
I’m sure the future will see you writing and creating, just as you have dreamed about.
And yeah, see you in comments!
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Thanks, Corina. I’ve enjoyed your presence on red Ravine and as a Facebook friend.
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You sent an email outside redRavine announcing your intentions to leave. I read it several times. I asked Matissta to read it. I have been waiting for this last post from you, ybonesy.
I have to say I’m a little weepy. You are so brave to choose to leave a blog community that I know was a part of the way you breathe. I know you aren’t leaving for good and that you will still be around, but I get your decision to pour your “first-flush” creative efforts elsewhere, e.g., your family, etc.
Consistently being in community and putting your writing out there is the toughest job I’ve ever had (next to surviving my childhood). Thanks for your courage.
You need to know that it is because of you that I made the decision to start Sassistas! You had the courage to confront me one time and challenge me to create a space unique to my own voice. Rooming with you during that four-week intensive was one of the greatest writing inspirations of my life.
Ever since receiving your initial email announcing your departure from redRavine, I’ve been wearing the necklace you made with an image of the Virgin Mother. It’s been my way to hold you close, but more importantly to hold you close to all the blessings of the pregnant creative world.
Continue to go forth and give birth. It is profoundly inspiring.
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I know this was a very difficult decision for you to make, and I applaud your courage and vulnerability – but just want to say that red Ravine has been a powerful outlet through which you and QM have brought beauty, humor, exposure and honesty to so many. There is no exit strategy, except to admit that you can’t do everything all the time for everyone and you have permission to walk in the silence. Thanks for your work, you have left a legacy and others will find creative inspiration in your words and images for a very long time. QM, carry on, if you wish and you can. yb, let go and let God.
Wishing you both strong medicine for the journey.
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ybonesy,
Thank-you for your years of hard work on red Ravine. I am grateful for the quality of this venue you and QuoinM have created. red Ravine couldn’t be what it is without lots of time and work. I’ve learned (and been inspired) by your posts and comments…listening to you process this confusing and wonderful writing life.
I’m sad to see you go. But your decision gives us all a chance to shine a light on our own lives–what to keep? What to let go of?
I am fortunate to have known you since the days of the Intensive. Looking forward to knowing you for years to come.
Deep bow from Minnesota toward New Mexico.
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Deep bow back to you in Minnesota, Teri. I’ve loved this blog’s New Mexico-Minnesota connection. Although pure serendipity, it’s been a special link for me.
It was lovely participating in this December workshop with you, Teri. You were such a solid, rooted assistant. Seeing you and Beth in that corner to my right calmed me and made me smile inside.
Thank you for everything you’ve brought to me and to red Ravine, Teri. QM and I often admire how you’ll go back to some post from the past and bring a present nugget to it. It’s helped keep this blog three-dimensional, if that makes sense.
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There is no exit strategy, except to admit that you can’t do everything all the time for everyone and you have permission to walk in the silence.
Beautifully said, lil. Thanks.
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Flann, bless your heart, and mine. Your comment made me cry.
You are a natural at blogging, and I mean that as a compliment. My first published article for SAGE, the women’s magazine that I now publish personal essays for, was a piece I did on the rise of blogs and blogging. This was either right before the Intensive or early into it, and I researched a bunch of blogs, most written by women. I was struck by how with blogging, no gatekeeper could tell a writer whether they could play or not. That was so powerful.
And it did strike me that you would be perfect for blogging. Your quick wit, you have a mind like an elephant (whatever that means, but my mom used it earlier this week and it’s a good thing), strong opinions (also a good thing as long as the opinions match my own, which they do–ha!).
And what a hit you are! I check in now and again, and though I don’t comment often, I do try to scroll through everything I’ve missed since my last visit. You are a natural.
Thanks for wearing the pendant. The Virgin de Guadalupe is my patron, and Lucy (for clarity) is good right about now. I will focus in on just a couple of creative endeavors but slowly and only to the extent that the rest of my life allows.
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Brava! Well-done, Ybonesy. This writing today reflects knowing yourself so well. So glad I got to listen here for a couple years. It IS a huge gift you and QM have created, thank you. Yet, ends are necessary. And time is precious as you clearly show. Thanks for sharing your great new art pieces here alongside, too – great energy.
Good job you do.
cc
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My mouth dropped open when I glanced in my email and saw this post. NO! Ybonesy leave redRavine? But of course it clicked. Without realizing it, I’ve heard this coming for some time. We learn, we grow, we must prune our vines to keep them fruitful. I salute your brave decision as well as all the juicy posts you’ve written. I’ve learned much from you about style, ways of seeing, and especially about Viet Nam. Even though we know each other only through the filter of the web, I feel as if you are a true friend, a writing sister.
And thank heavens redRavine will continue. I’ve noticed that QM seemed to be shouldering more of the load lately, and know she’ll keep the fire burning, evolving format just a bit over time.
I do understand that blogging grows heavy at times. My own blog began about the same time as rR, and there are days when I wonder WHY? But, there is no exit strategy. It’s not my time to let go. When and if it is, I’ll remember your grace in doing so. Your message removed the need for drops to relieve my winter-dry eyes.
Blessings wherever your path takes you dear writing sister.
And blessings on QM and redRavine as she and it evolve to work around the abyss of your absence.
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Your decision to let go is sad for me but a brave step for you. I shall miss you. But your talent and your spirit are an integral part of red Ravine. I’ll miss your posts, but you will still be here.
Thank you for creating rR. It’s a beautiful, inspiring blog.
Best wishes to you as you continue to create.
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yb, I couldn’t believe what I read about you leaving and after reading the whole piece with tears in my eyes and snot running down the face I understood. Letting go, such a hard thing for me to do. I’m glad that I have this model for letting go when I’m faced with that choice again and again in the future.
I would like to thank you and QM for publishing my very first piece of writing for a general community. I could not have found more loving friends and critics to make that experience so rewarding. That first piece made me send others and then send them to other places. I became a published writer with you both behind me giving me that shove to go for it. I can never thank the two of you enough.
Now I’m full-fledged crying. It’s like a passing away, a loss, a letting go at the heart level. Blessings to you and yours. I know you will still be in touch with us all. Now’s your time to take wing and fly.
Deep bows from America’s heartland.
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Aw, Bob, now I’m crying again. 😦
You are so welcome. It’s been so delightful and an honor getting to know your family through your writing on red Ravine. Aunt Annie’s Scalloped Oysters have been a big draw all through the holiday season. Lots of hits, lots of folks seeking out scalloped oyster recipes. I makes me happy to think that our individual family traditions are going out in the world and making other people happy, fulfilling their needs.
I’ll definitely be around. In fact, I’ll be right here next to you all commenting on QM’s and guest posts. I can let go of the work of blogging but I’m not about to let go of the Community that is red Ravine.
Deep bow to you in your river valley.
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Thank you, Kathy. I hope to read your novel some day.
Sharon, bless your heart. You know, I sent out a little email to a few folks to give them a heads up about this post. You were one of them, but the email address I had for you bounced. I told QM that I’d try to find a more current address, and lo and behold, there I was at 11p last night about to hit Publish and it dawned on me…ritergal!
It means a lot to know that you consider me a writing sister. I feel the same way about you. And a fellow blogger, and a fellow New Mexican (although no longer, but once a New Mexican, always a New Mexican!). I hope to check in on your blog, read your always great tips and prompts, and continue to learn from you.
Thanks, too, for recognizing QM’s efforts this past year. She really has had my back. Now I hope we will all have hers moving forward.
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CC., thanks for commenting, and I hope you’ll continue to stop in at red Ravine. I’m glad you enjoyed the new works. They were lots of fun, more exploration of how to Let Go in my artwork.
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As a Mom, who woke up one day to wonder “where did the time go, and why are my five chicks scattered from here to yonder,” I applaud you for wrenching yourself away from the community of redravine that will ALWAYS be here for you, and putting your family first! Your girls will leave their nest far sooner than you will be ready to have them go. Even though you will always be close to them in heart, mind and spirit, the daily ebb and flow of life shared in the same household has its own spirit. Once they are established “somewhere else” (even when they are just away at school or renting in their own”digs,”) you will be visitors in each others’ homes. Cherish this time.
We will miss you dreadfully…but it will only make your future writing here even more appreciated. Vaya con Dios!
“mamaowl”
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I haven’t been a hanger on to your blog nearly as long as some, but this is still so sad. I hate endings. Yet I understand and applaud you for knowing what is most important in life. You know when to fold ’em. A graceful blog and a graceful exit. It’s you. I’ll miss you.
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Change is hard, and I’ll miss your presence blogging at rR. Change is good, too, and inevitable, and better done when the timing feels right.
I’ve loved my visits to rR, I felt very honored when a few of my pieces were published here, and I so loved meeting you in person on our trip through ABQ. And I’m glad that we’ll continue to bump into each other in rR’s comments section.
I’ll be doing a fair amount of traveling back and forth from the Midwest to AZ, hope Mr. Bo and I can meet you again for lunch.
The best to you, Roma. Life is too short to not keep our priorities in order. Brave woman! You’ve made a difficult decision, leaving, but I salute you.
Bo
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Dearest Roma/yb,
Well, you’ve already received my emails, and now seeing this official post is making me teary-eyed all over again. I love seeing the spirit in each of your posts here on red Ravine. Your art is inspiring. I love these collages in this post. It made me think of the things I need to let go of. I love your self-portrait–it is a symbol of change, yet you’re still you, and that’s what matters.
I know this isn’t an easy decision for you to make, but yes, we are happy and proud of your work here and that you’ve helped created red Ravine.
We’ll definitely continue cheering on QM! 🙂
Please take care of yourself, Roma! Truly, red Ravine has been your rock as you have discovered and made yourself complete by incorporating writing and art into your life.
All the love from red Ravine, and warmest regards!
Lotus
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Thanks, Lotus. Your notes and now this are so very sweet. I get the feeling that you, too, have been going through a creative metamorphsis, and it’s been fun to watch that too, over on your Live Journal and here.
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Oh, mamaowl, you so beautifully put it–this is a special time, now with the girls in the household, under our wings. I’ve seen my nieces and nephews all grow up and out of my siblings’ homes, and it is the blink of an eye. Life is, really. Thanks for everything.
anhinga, thanks for the note. I hope to still see you in Comments and of course on Facebook. I love your sense of humor. 8)
Bo, thank you. You and Mr Bo are welcome in our little patch of the Rio Grande Valley anytime. Please do stop in, and you can always park that adorable trailer at the place. Really. And I’ve so admired everything you’ve done with your business, I’ve told you before. It’s a model for what I’d like to eventually do. Little by little.
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Roma, I have so many mixed feelings when I read over your farewell post. Sadness, a few tears. I LOVE your collages. They are inspiring and vibrant. And it warms my heart to know your last trip to Taos to study with Natalie was the impetus for them.
I feel sad that you are leaving. It’s been a hard, hard week. At the same time, we’ve been talking about it for some time now, so I’ve had a chance to get used to the idea. I will miss you so much. We’ve been rocks for each other through our collaboration on red Ravine. There were always invisible threads that connected us, that helped to hold the other one other up when things got tough. A creative net. A lifeline.
I am happy that we are good friends, that we still do Writing Practice together every week, that you will still visit red Ravine and maybe even do a Guest post now and then. It’s hard to imagine this space without you here everyday. But I have to believe that I will find my groove with it as I carry the practice on into 2011.
Thank you to all of our readers, friends, people we met through blogging, people we met in Taos, family, who have responded here in the comments. It means a lot to me to know that our collaboration on red Ravine has inspired and held the space. I hope I can do it justice as I take red Ravine on into the New Year.
Roma, I can’t imagine having done this with anyone but you. Together, we’ve struck the perfect balance, a launching pad for whatever is to come for each of us. Thank you for everything.
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Thanks, QM, for the note and thank YOU. I think one of the biggest benefits of having a blog partner has been that someone else out there knew *exactly* how hard it was to keep a blog going day after day, week after week. It’s been great strategizing on how to make the load more bearable, commiserating on the work, enjoying the work, celebrating milestones or fun and exciting events, being surprised together by the unexpected, or feeling supported in our respective practices. I’ll always be here if you need to talk about any or all of these things, and even though I won’t be doing this work per se, since I’ll still be moving my creative business forward, little by little, I expect we can still share notes.
And I will eagerly await your posts in 2011. Happy new year, QM!
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I couldn’t let 2010 end without commenting on this post. Standing ovation to you Roma, for knowing when it was time to let go. I was not surprised to read this. I often wondered how on earth you managed to work, have a family life, & devote so much time & energy to redRavine. You’ve made me smile, laugh, cry, & taken me to places I will never be able to visit in my lifetime. Thank you!
Best wishes to you & your family for a healthy & happy new year!
Forever blue! 🙂
Diddy
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Roma-bonsey! So proud of you. Wish you well on the next steps of your journey. Witnessing your growth has been amazing. I will miss your doodles. I love the reflection in this post as it opens yourself up to yourself and us. Not knowing you before rR, I would never have imagined you as not having all the creative outlets that you do now. Thank you for sharing your beautiful spirit with us so wholly and honestly. I look forward to seeing your creative output in the future, however and wherever it may spring up.
Peace-n-love, Liz
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I can’t let the new year get rolling without showing my face here to say good-bye to your guiding spirit on Red Ravine. I know I’ll bump into you here on the site and I also know QM will steer the ship with grace and skill. Your decision to shift your focus to the next phase of your life, your family’s life, feels solid and wise. I applaud you, as others have in these comments.
I remember so clearly the first post I did for Red Ravine. I was holed up in a small, drafty cabin on the Lake Michigan shore for a week of solitude and chapter revisions. While a blizzard rattled the windows and chilled my bones, I read my whole book manuscript out loud, taking notes, tracking pace and themes, and 2/3 of the way through, realized it wasn’t working. It was like a stillbirth. It was a crushing loss. A mega lesson in letting go. I raged and sobbed and walked in the 60 mile an hour winds on the beach. Feeling my whole writing self crumbling to bits.
Or so I thought. I walked back to the cabin resolved to survive but contemplating tossing the ms into the lake.
Then, suddenly, you and QM were there on my computer screen inviting me to write the 25 reasons I write. The cold cabin seemed to warm a little as I remembered that I wasn’t alone. The possibility that I was, in fact, still a writer, in the company of other writers, occurred to me. I wrote my 25 reasons and those 25 reasons began to haul me up out of the darkness.
I will be forever grateful for that.
I’ve written other things for Red Ravine – I especially remember the piece I wrote about my 20 year old son going off to get his PhD – but none quite so powerful for me as that first one.
Thanks, Roma – and to you, too, QM – for giving us Red Ravine. I’m so glad it lives on.
Hold those girls tight, Bonesy! As others have said, it all changes so fast.
fondly, Jude
ps. the manuscript is still struggling but alive…
the world’s most lengthy birth process still underway
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Diddy! Happy new year! I can’t stress enough how much I have appreciated getting to know QM’s family via red Ravine. You all have brought me into your fold and been so very gracious, loving, and supportive. So thank you (all of QM’s family) for enriching my life as well.
When I was in Taos in early December, some of my fellow retreatants wanted to know about red Ravine. One person looked up the blog during the week and when we finally broke silence on our final night there, she came up to me and asked, “Is that your full-time job?” “Is what my full-time job,” I asked. “red Ravine,” she said. A couple of things struck me in that moment. First, QM and I have created a space that has depth and content and is beautiful to look at. And second, my letting go was, in fact, the right thing to do.
Oh and…blue to the core, my dear. 8)
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Liz, getting to know you and your mom…well, again, I am so much richer for having done so. I know you are also on a creative path, and it’s always struck me as wonderful synchronicity that we in our circle of friends on red Ravine are all growing by leaps and bounds in our creative lives. red Ravine has been our home base. I don’t plan to give up that aspect of red Ravine at all. It will still be my home base.
You and QM have brought so much playfulness to red Ravine. I can picture you both dancing in the kitchen, belting out songs, geocaching, going to the fair and to see authors and artists, convening with bears and bear lovers. Your collaboration with QM has enriched red Ravine and my own life immensely. Thank you.
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Ah, Jude, this comment is beautiful and hopeful. It helps me to know deep in my heart that my almost five years of work into red Ravine is more than worth it, and your comment is testimony that red Ravine must continue. Thank you so much. I hope we get to hear more about the rebirth of your manuscript, too. Happy new year!!
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[…] Comments « ybonesy’s FAREWELL to red Ravine (aka Letting Go) […]
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Roma: been traveling with Red Ravine since it’s start. It is a beautiful piece. I applaud you, have always. QM will carry on. Vaya con dios
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This is a beautiful post, YB. I thought I had left a comment already and then realized I thought that because I have always felt part of a conversation (as well as community) here at red Ravine, whether I comment or not. You and QM established something very special here. I will carry things I learned from you and QM with me for the rest of my life.
In my early days of visiting I worked up the nerve to send you a guest submission for one of your writing topics. You have no idea how nervous I was about sending it, wishing I could take it back once it was sent. Oh and then, you and QM published it. It’s a wonder I lived through the experience of coming that far out of my shell. lol! I’m not sure if I should thank you for that or not as the words have not stopped since (and now it is time I learn about brevity!).
The conversations have always been amazing. A joyful party celebrating life in all of its aspects.
I am sorry that life has pulled you away, but happy that QM is carrying on and that we will still see you here from time to time. All that stuff on your plate now… fill your belly with it, YB. Soak it all in. Some things pass so quickly you wonder that you even had time to blink.
Much love to you, Roma, and to you, QM.
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Robin, thanks. I remember the photo that accompanied your post, all that red hair. I also remember how even though you have two blogs filled with beautiful photos, you told us that you weren’t so comfortable with writing. Well, we’ve given each other much through blogging–you have given me a role model for documenting your beautiful pond. Inspired by you, I’ve photographed ours over the seasons. Thank you for everything.
Franny, muchisimas gracias.
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oh, dear yb, blessings on your head as you let go of the shore of red Ravine and ease yourself into new currents. I know that you will be adept at navigating these new waters. I have the memory from the intensive of swimming in the Rio Grande. How deceptively strong the current was and how easy it was to be carried along in the arms of that beautiful river. Lie back, dear one, and ride the tide of your life with great joy.
With deepest gratitude, I thank you and QM for creating this oasis for writers. You gave me both the courage and the encouragement to put my work out in the world. Once you published my Open Letter to Cindy Sheehan, which later was picked-up and printed in the Mindfulness Bell magazine along side Cindy Sheehan’s own open letter, to which mine was a response. Could that ever have happened without you? I don’t think so.
Those were the early days of red Ravine. You and QM have come so far, expanding and sharing your talent and creativity and most amazingly taking us all along for the ride! You have taken me to new places and I am so very grateful.
Blessings upon blessings to you both, QM and ybonsey, and wishes for a very wonderful and inspiring 2011.
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Wow, breathepeace, how cool to hear about the fact that your Open Letter to Cindy Sheehan was picked up by Mindfulness Bell magazine. We never know who is reading our works out there, and it’s gratifying to get that kind of reception. It’s validating.
I remember when Clark Strand responded to QM’s haiku post, and when Josephine Dickinson asked to use a photo QM took of the author’s hands. And I think of the many responses Teri has received from poets that she and her Poetry Group wrote to, to thank for their good works. This is what I love about this community–the way it has nudged us all out there, to extend our reach a bit further each time.
I have some funny stories about some of the ways I’ve gotten feedback. Once I was contacted by a Wall Street Journal reporter who wanted to do a story about our turkeys. She said she would come to New Mexico and take pictures, that it would be a perfect Lifestyle feature for a pre-Thanksgiving story. Then she found out that the turkeys were our pets—she had thought they were wild and just started showing up at our house—and she withdrew the offer. 8)
But seriously, we are writing, making art, talking, and the universe is listening.
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I love what Sharon said above…
“we must prune our vines to keep them fruitful.”
YB, i hope your art, well being and family are quite fruitful. Thank you and QM for including this lowly blogger in the red Ravine community.
muah!
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Hey julian, thanks for stopping in and for the wishes. You’re very welcome, and I hope to see you here now and again.
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