Tag: writing

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Peacock Feathers and Flannery O’Connor

peacock feather

I noticed today is the anniversary of Flannery O’Connor’s death. Although I’ve taught her stories on and off for the last 30 years, it’s only in recent years that I’ve taken a serious interest in her — actually — in her life.

I’ve read The Habit of Being, the collection of her letters, and really started to gain an appreciation for her deep faith. It led to my choosing to feature her in my book, My Badass Book of Saints. I found great inspiration in her life — her dedication to her craft, her dedication to her faith, and most important, the way in which she lived with lupus. It helped me a lot after my husband’s diagnosis with Lou Gehrig’s disease.

I found in her a kindred spirit, and a delightfully quirky person known for training a chicken and raising peacocks.

A few years ago when a friend and I were sitting in Atlanta with nothing to do,  we decided to go on an adventure, a pilgrimage to O’Connor’s home. We thought it would be a good idea to drive all the way to Milledgeville to visit Andalusia.

Did I mention we’re writers?

So we did. Haul ourselves all the way to Andalusia. There was something special about walking around the grounds knowing that O’Connor might have gotten her inspiration from the same paths we walked. We took a tour of the house and saw where O’Connor wrote in the mornings, and sat in the afternoons.

We laughed outside as we studied the peacocks penned up in the back yard. They made a lot of noise, and we wondered what the allure was.

On the way out we picked up a couple of peacock feathers, a little souvenir of our afternoon.

Mine sits on my desk, a reminder to be bold and seek adventure. To write. To live. To laugh.

 

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WPC: Inspiration

monastery

This little abbey at the opposite end of the county where I live is my favorite place to recharge. It’s a quiet monastery that follows the Rule of St. Benedict. Their motto, Ora et Labora, pray and work,  can be seen everywhere, if not in words, then certainly in action. It’s quiet there, but busy.

I go there often for inspiration, especially when I find myself in a creative funk. I walk around the grounds. Pray. Walk some more. Sit. Think. Take pictures. Think some more. Pray again.

Every time I leave, I’m recharged. I think the peace I feel opens up my heart and mind and I am able to work past the blocks. Its the prayer, and the work. The inspiration for me to pray. And work.

 

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Writing Prompt: Let’s talk about the weather

This week’s writing prompt with my class is about the weather. You know, that thing we so often use for small talk. But the weather seems to be at the forefront of every conversation this week. The northeast is getting pounded with snow once again, and locally, we’re under the threat of freezing rain, which is one of the worst things that can happen in the South, next to tornadoes. All in all, it stinks to be outside wherever you are. Unless, of course, you are in South Florida. Or some other warm climate.

So this week, write about the weather. Tell us what kind of weather you enjoy.

I love the rain. Even now, that the temperature is below freezing and I can hear the gritty sound of frozen rain hitting the windows, I like it.

There’s something about the overcast days, with the dark gray clouds and the chill in the air that speaks to me in a comforting way. Now, I do like sunny days. I enjoy the sunshine and cool breeze of spring, the heavy heat and burning sun of summer. I even like snow. Especially if I’m a tourist.

But rain. Rain. It soothes me. Inspires me. Calms me. Makes me want to take a nap.

When we lived in Miami, my husband and I used to sit on our back porch and watch the storms coming in off the Everglades. Those were the epic storms. They rose up gently with heavy black clouds. Everything about them was larger than life, monstrous. These storms moved slowly, so it seemed like they were constantly building energy, and they usually brought lots of thunder and lightning along with it. Those were the storms that lasted all day. It was perfect for porch-sitting, coffee-drinking, spending time with your lover deep in conversation storm-watching.

If the rain came from the east, from the ocean, they were different. These were usually sudden showers although every once in a while they’d bring some thunder and lightning, too. Mostly, though, these storms blew by quickly, the clouds spreading out and thinning until the sun came back out and dried up everything. Those were the rainstorms that came and went, leaving no evidence. They were fun, too. Great for running and playing in the rain, or just keeping an eye out for the end, after everything was refreshed.

These days the rain bring a more somber mood, and I’m ok with that. It chills me, and that just gives me the perfect excuse to make something hot to drink, maybe coffee, maybe tea. Maybe some rich hot chocolate. I’ll inevitably find my way to a cozy spot next to my husband and cuddle under a shared blanket to read a book or talk.

Plus, puddles. What’s not to love?
mud

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