New Beginnings: Mandala For A New Year

Mandala For A New Year, BlackBerry Shots, Golden Valley, Minnesota, January 2011, photo © 2011 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

A Downy pecks at the suet feeder. Black-eyed peas simmer in a vintage crock-pot in the kitchen. Temperatures hover around zero; it’s 3 degrees and windy. Gifted with unexpected time alone on New Year’s Eve, I wrote in my journal, checked in with the Midwest Writing Group, worked on a mandala, completed the BlackBerry 365 practice, made plans for the New Year. It felt positive to me, this forward thinking.

I am one of those people who mines for specks of gold in old and burly mountains, drags silvery threads of the past forward. Lineage. Writers, artists, photographers. Process. Birth, death, old age. What makes something work? Like The Fool archetype in Tarot, it is with great humility that I embrace the unknown and begin again. Beginner’s Mind. I will miss ybonesy and her free spirited and vibrant creative fire on a daily basis at red Ravine, but I know I have to face forward. It’s one of the things she taught me — take risks. Move into the future. When you collaborate with a person who strikes a balance, one who possesses the qualities you lack, it’s easy to become complacent about that which needs strengthening inside.

I need a strong back, flexible muscles. I will build on the Bones of red Ravine. I have so many dreams I want to pursue; they have not gone away. I will have to be diligent. Courageous. Disciplined. It takes courage for ybonesy to leave to spend more time with her family; it takes courage to stay. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. There are days when the work of blogging feels like it needs a whole army of writers and artists to move it forward. But I believe in the mission and vision of red Ravine and am excited to steer her in a new direction. The winds may be stiff; I will follow the structure we put into place—teacher, practice, community—and see where red Ravine takes me.

I am forever grateful to Roma who walked up to me in Mabel’s dining room after one of the silent retreats, and asked if I wanted to write together. I would be returning to Minnesota, she to Albuquerque, 1200 miles between us. The Turtle in me had to give it some thought; not for long. The seed for red Ravine had been planted. Now this space is Home, a strong cottonwood by the Mother Ditch, in her adolescent years, still growing. But nothing can thrive without nurturing, play, attention, and time. I have to plan carefully, regroup. Thank you for standing by me.

I am grateful for the 5 years of creative collaboration with ybonesy. She is a strong, gifted woman, a dear friend. I am grateful for a community that keeps coming back. I feel supported. I’ve committed to keeping red Ravine alive through another year. It’s one of my practices. I draw on what Natalie taught me: Continue under all circumstances. Don’t be tossed away. Make positive effort for the good (adding under my breath, Cross your fingers for Good Luck!).

Back to the moment. Time to feed Mr. Stripeypants and Kiev. Liz will be rising soon. We spent part of New Year’s Eve watching Lily and Hope on the NABC 2011 DenCam. They aren’t worried about such things as red Ravine. They are busy being Bears. I focus on my new practices for 2011: (1) a daily Journal entry 365 (2) a BlackBerry collaboration inspired by Lotus (one of our readers) (3) a year-long Renga collaboration. I’ll write more about these practices in coming posts. Happy New Year, ybonesy. Happy New Year to all red Ravine readers. Happy New Year, red Ravine. New Beginnings. The Promise of Spring.

-posted on red Ravine, Saturday, January 1st, 2011

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ybonesy’s FAREWELL to red Ravine (aka Letting Go)

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.

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Happy 3rd Birthday red Ravine

Happy 3rd Birthday, red Ravine!, Minneapolis, Minnesota, April 7th 2010, doodle © 2010 by Lizzie Bee. All rights reserved.

It was November 2006 when ybonesy and I started planning and writing for red Ravine, fruit from a seed planted in Taos, New Mexico at a writing workshop with Natalie Goldberg. In April 2008, red Ravine celebrated her 1st birthday with the post A Year Of Living Dangerously. When I saw that ybonesy and I were approaching our 3rd birthday, I went back and read some of the comments from 2 years ago. One of the most fun, from Sam, about red Ravine’s Zodiac sign (Aries) sparked a whole conversation:

QM, I looked up a make-shift chart for red Ravine. I went back to the April 7th post, and didn’t see a timestamp, so I used 9am, with San Francisco (WordPress) as the birthplace. That put the Moon in Sagittarius, Mars and Mercury in Pisces, and Venus in Taurus.

But I’m betting that you and YB have more accurate data. You should swing by Cafe Astrology for a free natal chart, AND you can get free compatibility readings while you’re there, too. Then, let us all in on the results.

In astronomy, the zodiac (Greek: ζῳδιακός) is the ring of constellations that lines the ecliptic, the apparent path of the Sun across the sky over the course of the year. The Moon and planets lie within the ecliptic, and are also part of the constellations of the zodiac. In astrology, the zodiac denotes those signs that divide the ecliptic into twelve equal zones of celestial longitude.

When I was in high school, I belonged to a Tri-Hi-Y named The Zodiacs. My Sun is in Cancer, with Taurus Moon and Taurus rising. My ruling planet is the Moon. ybonesy and I haven’t done compatibility readings, but after 3 1/2 years of publishing red Ravine, I’d say our Gemini/Cancer combination seems to be working.

I thought it might be fun to take this opportunity to poll our readers (as ybonesy mentioned in the comment thread on the 2008 post) and see what signs they are. ybonesy thinks we have a high percentage of Gemini readers on red Ravine. But I’m not so sure. What sign are you?

In Gratitude: Here’s to another year of red Ravine. With much appreciation to our readers and guests. You keep the community energy flowing, and help us keep going. Special thanks to ybonesy, my blog partner, an inspiration. And to Liz, my partner in life (who also created the doodle in this piece). I could never have kept going on this project without the two of you.

-posted on red Ravine, in celebration of her 3rd Birthday & Blogiversary, Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

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Postcard From Vietnam

Viet Nam 9000 — Stamp Of Approval, postcard from ybonesy, Saigon to Minneapolis, Minnesota, September 2008, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

After a long day at work, I opened the mouth of the black mailbox this afternoon to find ybonesy’s beautiful postcard. It is dated 2 Sept 08 and postmarked 05-09-2008. I guess that means it took 16 days and nights to float from ybonesy’s hand in Saigon to a little white cottage just outside Minneapolis.

Thanks, ybonesy. You made my day. I’m bananas for you, friend!

            

        Postcard From Vietnam, Woman Rides A Cycle In Ho Chi Minh City,
        original photographer © Radhika Chalasani, photo of postcard 
        © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

       

-posted on red Ravine, Thursday, September 18th, 2008

-related to posts: The Dying Art Of Letter Writing (Postcards From The Edge), Thank You For Keeping An Eye On Me, Mary

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A Year Of Living Dangerously

One Year Today, celebrating the one-year anniversary of red Ravine, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle © 2008 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.

 

QuoinMonkey: I can’t believe it’s been a year since we launched red Ravine!

ybonesy: Me neither. It’s felt more like ten. (laughs) Just kidding. But I am amazed at how much energy it takes and how some days I have the energy and other days I don’t. Fortunately, one thing I’ve learned is, what goes out eventually returns.

QM: Yeah, I know what you mean. The blog has become part of our practice, and just like with any practice, sometimes you get fried and have to refuel. It’s nice to be in it with a partner. When you’re down, I’ve got your back. When I’m down, you’ve got mine. Could you ever imagine doing this on your own?

yb: No way. There’s the daily or near daily posting and maintenance of the blog, and then there’s the whole putting yourself out there part. For me, that exposure is the piece I might not be able to deal with if it weren’t for the fact that you’re out here, too.

QM: That’s so true. Hey, I want to say that I really I appreciate you. Even though we are different people and have different styles, we work well together. And I value our differences.

yb: Thanks, QM. I appreciate you, too. After a year working together so closely, I’ve come to value the time you take with things, the quality you put into everything you do. Now when I do a post, I take more time with it. I look at the spacing and layout and wonder, what would QM think about this visually?

QM: I do that, too. I’ll post something because I think, ybonesy would do it now. And you take risks, which encourages me to take risks in areas I might not otherwise.

yb: One year later I can honestly say, I’m glad we did this. You’re right — it is a practice. It keeps me moving and producing every day, every week. It inspires me creatively. I have to say, it’s even influenced me in terms of getting my writing room together and thinking about my personal style more seriously. What do you think? Are you up for one more year?

QM: (laughs) Yep. One more year, one day at a time. I gain so much from our faithful community of readers. Creatively, the practice of keeping an art and writing community blog going, fuels my individual creative projects. Count me in. What about you? One more year?

yb: Absolutely! I’d miss the blog and our blogging community — and working with you! — if I didn’t have it. Hey, the other question I have is, What two or three things would you like to accomplish in Year 2?

QM: I’d like to integrate red Ravine into the rest of my creative projects, move it to the next level — with our readers out on the Internet, and with my teaching, writing, and art on the ground in Minneapolis. I’d also like to take more public risks in my writing. We know who our readers are – the same people who will be reading our books. So I’d like to take more risks, while still honoring the mission and vision we set for red Ravine. What are your goals?

yb: Similar ones. The integration with the rest of my stuff — that’s key. And taking to the next level both the blog and my own writing and art. Oh, and speaking of taking risks, this might be the year to figure out what to do about our identities. Do I become ybonesy, or does ybonesy become me? Can we be interchangeable, and how do I assuage concerns I have about safety and Internet identity? Lots to figure out.

QM: Yeah, I’ve been thinking about identity, too. Especially as I’ve been moving into the new art and writing studio and want to share what I’ve learned on red Ravine. I’m open to clarity. If we stay as committed as we are now, and continue to treat this work as a practice, the answers will come. We won’t be tossed away.

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A Conversation Between Friends

-Sunflowers, July 2007, growers market, Albuquerque, NM, photo © 2007 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

ybonesy: What is it about being able to hang out in person with someone who you normally do so much with — write, start a blog, plan and produce — via telephone and email?

QuoinMonkey: Oh, it was such a relief to be able to just sit and have a cup of Joe on the patio in the morning, instead of having to plan for different schedules and time zones. I also got to see your expressions and your smile. And the space where you live. It was so relaxed.

yb: Yeah, I felt the same way! We never seem to have time to just hang out, get to know each other better. Although, after writing with you for how many years now, I feel I know a lot *about* you. Is that the same as knowing you, though?

QM: That’s the question of the century. I used to think you could know someone through writing practice. But all you really know is the inner workings of their mind. Not who they are day-to-day. That’s what made it so great to be able to hang out together in the same town. And to do day-to-day things, as well as planning for the future of red Ravine.

yb: I’m glad you met my family and vice versa. They liked you a lot. The candy surprises you left the girls helped ;-). Really, though, Jim doesn’t get to talk motorcycles with any of my other friends. I’m curious, after “hearing” about them all these years through my writing, are they what you expected?

QM:  LOL. That Liz, she was so thoughtful to remind me to bring a little something for the girls. I loved talking motorcycles with Jim. He’s so knowledgeable and hands-on. If we lived in the same town, I’d sure love to take the bikes out sometime. I know from experience that my Honda Rebel can even keep up with a Harley!

Your family is a delight – even better than the way I pictured them from your writing. Honestly, I had a pretty good idea about each one of them from the details of your writing practices over the years. But now the visual is grounded in something solid. A whole new realm.

yb: It was good for them to get to know you, too. I just wish you could have stayed longer. I would have liked to do some writing practice with you. This is the first time we’ve been together in person where we didn’t do writing practice, right?

QM: Right, I kept thinking we’d have time to practice. But it took us quite a while just to catch up on my week in Taos and your week at Ghost Ranch. I think we were both so excited about our work. And then there was the need to do some planning for the blog. Next time, I’d make it a 3-day weekend, if you could stand me that long. 8)

yb: Absolutely!! Hey, I realized when I dropped you off at the airport that you were going to be starved by the time you boarded your plane. I should have sent you with plums from the grower’s market, at least. Did you get to eat at the airport?

QM: Ah, the grower’s market was great. Everything went like clockwork that day, didn’t it? I checked my baggage and went straight to the gate. There was a Quiznos right there. But after I stood in line, I realized the heat had shrunk my appetite and I wasn’t hungry enough for a sub. So I grabbed a bag of Sun Chips and a chocolate chip cookie which I only ate half of because I’d forgotten that Liz had arranged a bump up to First Class (for the same price). They fed me a full meal half way into the flight.

All this to say, not to worry! I came home quite satisfied. Oh, BTW, what was it you made Saturday night? Homemade enchiladas? They were so good. Where did you say you learned to cook?

yb: Oh yeah, those were enchiladas. With an egg on top. (The way the locals eat ’em.) My mom taught me how to make the red chile from pods. Everything I make that’s any good, it’s because my mom taught me. Next time you come, bring Liz. We like having visitors.

QM:  I will be back to New Mexico in the not too distant future. Of that I am sure. Liz and I have been wanting to get away together for some time. With her in school and me traveling as much as I have for my writing, it’s been about 3 years since we took a week off together. So maybe next time we’ll come through New Mexico!

You know, I was thinking this morning that in 2008, I want to take a writer’s retreat in northern Minnesota. Or maybe a few hours north in Duluth. Then my mind extrapolated and thought, why not invite ybonesy? We could have shared time together and then separate time to write alone.

Or you could paint the North Shore, which is stunning. It’s all about the water here in Minnesota. What do you think?

Hey, I was also wondering, now that you’ve had time to sit with your week at Ghost Ranch, how do you think it changed your painting and writing? Or even your idea of the direction you want to head on red Ravine. What do you think was the biggest thing to come out of our meeting?

yb: I love that idea! I’d like to do a retreat somewhere outside NM, and I want to see your part of the world, too.

Let’s see, on your two questions, Ghost Ranch gave me the opportunity to dedicate an entire week to my painting and to see that yes, I am an artist. I have all the experiences inside me. I rarely devote that much time all at once to producing, so the gift was having the time, the materials, inspired teachers and students, and a beautiful setting. It all came together.

And our meeting, well, I think I realized how much I gain from having creative people in my life who I can talk to about writing and art. Our conversation generated good ideas for my own work as well as for the work we’re doing together. That’s huge. Inspiration is huge. How about you? What do think was the biggest thing?

QM: Hmmm. I felt really comfortable in Taos this time. I was tired from the work I was doing, but the experience and learnings were deep. On the Twin Hearts shuttle between Taos and Albuquerque, I realized I need to do a writing retreat in 2008. Give myself time to go somewhere alone or with a few trusted writing friends. It was the first time I had that feeling so strongly.

(BTW, there were only two of us on the 11a.m. shuttle from Mabel’s in Taos, and I was the only person after we passed Santa Fe! It felt like a limo!)

About our meeting, the biggest thing was to bounce creative ideas and projects off a trusted writer, artist, and friend. The road is a hard one. And it’s difficult to find a person who not only shares a mutal vision and is willing to do the work, but supports me in my individual projects and dreams. I’m so awake to that kind of listening. And you want to know the biggest and most simple thing? I ask questions about your life and you ask questions about mine. It’s an equal exchange. Refreshing!

-Shadow Shifting, July 2007, Albuquerque, NM, photo © 2007 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, July 18th, 2007

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