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Printed from https://writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/8339-Observationally-speaking.html
Poetry: June 14, 2017 Issue [#8339]

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Poetry


 This week: Observationally speaking...
  Edited by: Fyn Author IconMail Icon
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Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

To me, photography is an art of observation. It's about finding something interesting in an ordinary place... I've found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them. ~~Elliott Erwitt

(Substitute 'writing' for photography!)

We cannot create observers by saying 'observe', but by giving them the power and the means for this observation and these means are procured through education of the senses. ~~Maria Montessori

(We have the power and the means ... now they just need to BE USED!)

Observation more than books and experience more than persons, are the prime educators. ~~Amos Bronson Alcott

(So true!)

Flannery O'Connor's brief life and slim output were nonetheless marked by piercing powers of observation. ~~Floyd Skloot




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Letter from the editor

Ideas, inspiration and details to support same can be found all around us --if we are but aware of them! Art in the Park weekend: local arts/crafts fair that draws around thirty thousand folks to our small town. We were there, as usual, because it is a great place for authors to be seen and their books bought! It is also an amazing place to observe and tuck away weird, wacky, true-to-life 'stuff.'

For example, it isn't unusual to see lots of people with dogs and lots of folks with baby strollers. What I did find strange, was the number of folks with dogs IN baby strollers! One gentleman was wheeling along a screen-enclosed stroller with at least two Bichons inside who were happily barking at any/everything. As he strolled away, we could hear him saying to the dogs, "You can stop barking now, no one is coming to rescue you!"

Needed a good laugh about then! We saw every kind of 'off to wander the fair' apparel possible. People in the shortest imaginable 'short shorts', others in flowy maxi dresses, still others in the basic t-shirt and jeans. We saw hats. BIG, floppy, flower-encrusted hats, ball caps, sombreros, western hats and one lady with a reject from the Easter parade, circa 1969, trailing ribbons and flowers down her back. Old couples strolled hand in hand, dads gave shoulder-rides to weary little legs, wheeled walkers and a couple pulling their kids in a little red wagon.

Just people out for a fun day providing unintended details to be mined at a later date! It was fun to step into characters from our books and react (on the inside) how those characters might, to view the parade of humanity from a variety of viewpoints without stepping from behind the authors table. Knowing each others' characters as well as we both did, it was fun realizing that there were, indeed, a wide difference in how they'd react, notice or totally ignore the kid wearing his ice cream cone, the screaming, hot, exhausted child, the ancient man with his hand gently on the elbow of his spouse, the gay couple with fingers entwined and the BIG, totally tattooed biker guy with his ridiculously adorable three-year-old who was festooned as a fairy princess. Elephant ears were artfully balanced, tossed from hand to hand all the while raining powdered sugar, or folded pizza style while being devoured. I was lucky to get a couple of nibbles from my husband's before he and my daughter made it vanish when I swore it was still WAAAY too hot to eat!

Wandering the several hundred booths was also a treat. I really needed the little skink-type lizard I couldn't resist. It will be perfect in the new screen room that isn't built yet. Bought some books from other indie authors because, hey, gotta support the random indie authors out there! *big smile* One booth had one of the artists you see on Facebook doing the 'spray paint galaxies' and it was fascinating to watch, as well as to widen my viewing to take in the diverse crowd all equally entranced by them. Watching little tykes get their faces painted, watching older kids get henna designs on their hands and shoulders, seeing the tentative steps of the child crossing the rope bridge the Boy Scouts had there and listening to the shouted encouragement all added to the 'image bank' being filled in my head.

Booths near mine included one selling bird houses made of scrap wood and metal, another hawking new windows for the house, a third offering clay dishes and another taunting me with homemade fudge! Across the way was a guy selling his jewelry creations and just to my left was one with cute and artsy wooden owls. (So got one of those!) After two days, my mind was spinning, my feet were experiencing intense pain and I ran out of books! All in all, an excellent weekend. That and I got to see one of my favorite authors, fellow WDC-er and best friend who came up for the day!

Another oddball observation came from the annual library book sale that runs the same days. Curtesy of 'The Useless Information Society' located in London, I found a curious book that is a compendium of 'Useless Information' that, while may be 'useless' to the majority of the world, is a font of fun info for a writer. For example, I bet you don't know what a 'dork' actually is or that in 1976, the Swine Flu vaccine actually caused more deaths than the disease it was created to prevent! You know that wire 'basket' that helps keep the cork in place on your bottle of champagne? It is called a 'coiffe.' The dot over the letter 'i' is called a tittle, and the plastic or metal tube on the ends of your shoelaces is called an aglet. Ancient Romans often paid their taxes in honey. I had fun with this book. For example, did you know that sixty-seven percent of dog owners buy a Christmas present for their pet while only forty-five percent of cat owners do. Who figures this stuff out?

Point being, you just never know where you might use some little off-the-wall fact or observation to give added depth or nuance to a moment, scene or conversation!


Editor's Picks

 Unexpected Grace Open in new Window. (E)
Those unexpected moments that remind us of our blessings.
#2125016 by DakotaSkye Author IconMail Icon


 Invalid Item Open in new Window.
This item number is not valid.
#2124913 by Not Available.


 Unreceived  Open in new Window. (13+)
Created March 20, 2017- about missing someone. "I look for you in my dreams..
#2124765 by Jayleen Author IconMail Icon


 
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STATIC
Barfly Open in new Window. (E)
Just a stranger at the pub in a small town.
#2123804 by Fyn Author IconMail Icon


 Rabbit Holes Open in new Window. (E)
A tribute to a well known book, please keep your arms in the vehicle at all times
#2125051 by Logan Author IconMail Icon


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STATIC
Leviathan: The Sea Dragon Open in new Window. (E)
A most ancient mythological manifestation of Chaos. Dream Time Dragon Contest Entry.
#2125030 by A E Willcox Author IconMail Icon

 
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Ask & Answer

Monty Author IconMail Icon comments: Much of this News Letter was what I might write, I found that I enjoyed it very much.

sallyjwatling writes: A wonderful newsletter! Thank you for sharing these special 'Mom' moments.

papadoc1 says: As usual, a funny, poignant, perceptive newsy newsletter for us all, Fyn! So glad to read about your Mother's Day travails! Keep on keepin' on!! Dr J

azreal.tseng adds: Thank you for sharing about your changing perspectives as a daughter and a mother. I too experienced that epiphany when I had my son two years ago (our first was miscarried). Even though I had always half-hated my parents for being irresponsible teenagers who knew nothing about raising a kid, as I went through the difficulties of bringing up my own child I began to understand how impossible it must have felt for them to simply bring me into the world. They never got to finish school, and I can somewhat understand how they might have blamed me sometimes for wrecking their lives.

I've never doubted their love for me, despite the many mistakes that were made. I'm still estranged from my dad, but I'm always in contact with my mum, sending her photos of the grandson she can't be with because we're oceans apart. Thank you for featuring my poem to her in your newsletter.


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