Tina Time

3/22/06

I have always seen and thought of myself as a writer, even though there have been great stretches of time when I was not writing at all, times when I enjoyed the crafting of letters or business communication but just never had the discipline to consistently churn out work for the exercise of finding a voice, developing the depth and breadth of ideas necessary to prove yourself worthwhile. This blog is serving as that tool for me, so I am so delighted to be able to forget about the pressures of what to write about and just relax into the storytelling and descriptions, the delights of writing.

So, Venice! We woke up Tuesday, (our 25th wedding anniversary) with still no luggage. but first, before the rest of that story, I must just take a moment to tell you about our room. Much to my chagrin, I did not take pictures of the ceiling, as it is difficult to describe. The entire ceiling was sectioned using heavy gilded molding materials. A star made of this gold molding encased the French teardrop chandelier and a combination of triangles and squares fit together in a tight pattern, forming a border at the perimeter of the room. Some sections were painted white, some gold, some blue. The walls of room were a soft country blue and the wooden desk, bed bench, night stands and armoire were all delicately hand painted with swirls, flowers and small intricately colored birds. Except for the bathroom, which was updated, the room made you feel as if you had stepped into a time long ago. But I digress....

After breakfast: cold cuts, croissants and assorted breakfast breads, cereal, fresh fruit, yogurt and my favorite new food, Nutella (its like peanut butter, but made from hazelnut and with chocolate. i am not a peanut butter lover but now I eat Nutella almost every day.....it kind of makes me feel like Italy....just a little). Breakfast was pretty much the same at all three hotels we stayed at in the course of our stay, no eggs, no pancakes, but a meat and cheese tray and a huge variety of breads. High fiber cereals and yogurts a staple.

Anyway, after breakfast, still in the same summer clothes that we had been wearing since Sunday and had to put back on after our shower we had had enough. We headed out from the hotel, to find it pouring rain. Right outside the door was a young Middle Eastern man selling umbrellas for 5 Euros each, so we bought 2 and headed straight for the kiosks right across the canal. Keith bought a heavy velour sweater with Venicia embroidered on the front. I, at least, had a lightweight sweatshirt with me and Capri length pants. He was wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, so this was the first time he had been warm (during daylight) since we got there.

We didn't really know where to go, but we knew the general direction of "town" (we were staying near the outskirts of Venice) so we started walking. It was, once again like being in another time or like being on a movie set. Each building is more beautiful than the next, with statues, mostly of saints, carved into buildings, along with other shapes and symbols, arches. The walkways were cobblestone and each shop had a tiny display window, but in most cases, proved to be a long narrow store. Sidewalk cafes were found on every corner of an intricate array of stone lined alleys. But of course they were empty in the rain, except for a few brave souls huddled up against the building smoking.

Venice is known for a few things, blown glass and paper or stationery products. You have no idea of the many types of glass and how many different ways to use it. The same with the paper, beautiful paper, envelopes, note pads and pens. Once again, much to my chagrin, we did not buy any of the beautiful papers we saw. I kept thinking I would get it later. My advice, when you travel, if you see something you really like, buy it right then and there. You almost never go back and the stack of junk you buy that you later regret pales in comparison to the pain of not having what you now recognize could have made the perfect memory.

We ducked into the first clothing store we saw that was not dealing exclusively in lingerie, gloves, shoes or sweaters. The shop we did step into was very small but a lot of clothes space, either hanging and on shelves. The man behind the counter wore a well fitted grey wool suit over a black T shirt;. He was a small, neat man, with close cropped silver hair, a little balding on top and a classic handsome Italian face, straight of one of many memorable movies. He had elegant movements and wonderful accented English. We knew we would be reimbursed for whatever we bought from either our travel insurance or from the airline, so we shopped! I tried on several pairs of jeans (one of my goals was to come home with a pair of authentic Italian jeans) and finally decided on the pair that fit best, a sweater and scarf (all the women wore scarves and I had to have one!) Kieth bought a pair of jeans and a sweater. We were just about to settle up, but I continued to be drawn back to a purple leather coat. It was 40 Euros. I really didn't need another leather jacket, but it was cold and I knew the sweater would not be enough, but a purple leather jacket. You should see it! Its fabulous!

Once the shopping was done, we were warm and fed and ready to see the sites. Once again we walked and gawked, occasionally buying small items from a small shop or median merchants. Keith was wearing sandals, so we thought about buying him a pair of shoes. We walked into the first men’s shoe store we saw, I asked, American size 14? hahahahahahahahahah (the Italian are not sized 14).

We walked and walked until all of a sudden, there we were at the Grand Canal. It was like standing in a postcard. My next step in blogging is to try to add some pictures to this story, my words cannot convey what it was like to stand there and see a sight I had seen so many times on television, in magazines and books, and I was there. It took my breath away. The crowd was festive and international and people politely took their turn to have their picture taken on the bridge, then yielded so the next family or couple could have their turn.

Finally, we moved on down the stairs to the row of canal side restaurants and stopped for a bite to eat. But we had to hurry; we still needed to get to St. Mark's Square. Once again, we weren't exactly sure where it was, but we kept walking and finally we there.

But, dear reader, the time is late, my eyelids heavy... I thought I would be able to complete a day of Italy each day, but here I am, ready for bed and still much about the first day in Venice to tell. I don't really want to rush through what could be a fun writing/reading experience. If you are reading along, please help me, too much? too little? right pace? love to hear from you!
!

3/21/06

So, Italy, so glad you asked! My husband Keith and I celebrated our 25th anniversary with a fabulous trip to Venice, Florence and Rome last October. In spite of the fact that I have told the stories over and over, retelling simply takes me back and leaves me with the pure joy the trip was and through memories still is. First of all, how can you expect to have anything but a great time when the only thing on your agenda each day is what beautiful or interesting thing you will do that day. There are no phone calls, you are not expected to be anyplace at any specific time, except perhaps to catch a tour, on your way to learn more about one of those beautiful, interesting things. Vacation in general is a pretty great thing, but this one was right in so many ways.

Before we had decided on exactly where we were going to go for our anniversary, I mentioned to Keith that while I didn't want to spend our whole trip in St. Louis, I would not mind stopping there on our way to wherever we might go to see one of the last games played in Busch Stadium. It turned out, he had already bought the tickets to the last two games of the season and was going to surprise me. The first night of our trip, at Busch stadium, my favorite Cardinal player, Albert Puhols, hit a grand slam and led the Cardinals to their 98th victory of the season. I knew right then and there it was going to be a great trip!

We left for Italy on Sunday morning, a long flight in coach, but we were so excited on setting out on our 2 week trip that it seemed to pass quickly. We changed planes in London and enjoyed just listening to the lovely accents all around us. It was amazing to see the differences, even in England. We flew on a small plane to Venice and landed in pouring down rain. We were both dressed in summer clothes, having left from Dallas and 90 degree weather, and it was cold and wet. We followed the crowd from our plane to the baggage carousel, cold and wet, watching the other multi national passengers as we all waited for our luggage. There were Middle Eastern men, African men, European women dressed like they had stepped off the front page of vogue. And the shoes!

Anyway, we waited as one by one the crowd left with their luggage until it became apparent that ours was not on the belt. It seems that it was delayed in London and the lady at the customer service counter gave us a print out with a claim number and said the luggage would arrive on the next flight and would be at our hotel that evening. We found our shuttle driver and watched the rain continue to pour, much to our dismay, as he sped through traffic with no concern for the large buses, other cars and large puddles of standing water, the whole time he was turned around talking to us in his beautifully accented English. He was funny and we watched out the windows, eager to soak in every detail of this all new world. I couldn't wait to get a glimpse of my first canal.

Our hotel was small, 37 rooms, and decorated in European Victorian with hand painted furniture, large sculptured ceilings, blue and gold striped floor to ceiling drapes. It was all charm, complete with haughty concierge and mud brown coffee. We got to our room, but of course had no bags to unpack, so after we oohed and ahhed, we decided to take a nap and wait for our luggage. the room was on the second floor and the windows looked out over a small canal. We found that the windows had large wooden shutters that when closed, made the room as dark as night.

We woke up around 8pm (we had been up since early the morning before) to find no luggage had arrived and calls to the phone number on the claim check yielded a voice message in Italian. Though our quaint little hotel had a small bar and served breakfast, it did not have a restaurant inside, so we asked the desk clerk about where we could eat. She told us there were no good restaurants close by, but as we were still wearing our shorts and Hawaiian shirts, we opted to stay close to the hotel. Ins spite of the warning from the hotel clerk, we found a cute little restaurant down the street and ordered our first Italian mean, including wine to help us warm up. The waiter was charming though he spoke little English, but by pointing to the menu, we were able to order and enjoy a delicious meal. Once again we enjoyed the accents of a German family next to us and several Italian couples having dinner. We took our time, laughed about the luggage and finally finished and headed back to the hotel. (Stay tuned for more later!) Our day in Venice, Florence, Rome and Naples.

3/15/06

I am always brilliant, during the day while I am walking up the stairs at work, in the car. Topics, ideas, words role along in a really superior way. And then, the day winds down, I sit down at the blog to put some of that brilliance on paper and cannot recall a word. The Big Blank Page does indeed, loom daunting, an awesome responsibility, an incredible opportunity, an open invitation. This is where the real work starts, the thinking work. Structuring an idea and following it through to the depth and breadth of a fully developed thought. But then, sadly, I sit and look at the blank page and try to think of something worth saying.

3/19/06

It has occurred to me that the next step to master is discipline. This is the difference between achieving your dreams and dreaming your dreams. This is the middle of the process, the tedious part. Once the excitement of making a decision and announcing it is over, the friends and family have all gone back to their lives, the spotlight is off, you (I) have made my intentions known. It is before any of the benefits of achieving the goals I have set for myself are available. It is the time where the consequences of not doing something each day is practically non-existent. (I set a goal for myself to do at least one thing a day related to my plan, no matter how small. I am fairly, though not perfectly successful at this approach so far, but doing much better than if I had set no goal).

Though I seem to be stuck on the idea of not knowing what to say, on circumspect, I don't think it is the real issue. Truth be told, I speak with people every day and offer insight and observations as asked. I honestly do believe that the things I believe and the basis of the reason I believe I am destined for a larger voice is the universal acceptance and encouragement my words and ideas have received.

It is not the content that is proving illusive, it is the discipline to open the computer and focus my thoughts. I started out by committing to blog every day. This, as you can see, has slipped a bit as I allow the shopping, cleaning, kids, work, volunteer, friend world, translated as my life, occupy my time and energy.

There is just no doubt that this is an obstacle that must be overcome if I am ever move to the point of engaging in my dreams instead of just dreaming them. And on close examination, the real question is: is it the time, the energy, the ability (or lack of), the interest, or fear that causes the reticence or simple lack of following through.

This is a somewhat painful question, as I expose my inner struggles, since the answer may reveal some less than proud admissions. Success comes to those who figure out the answer to this question and then do what needs to be done anyway. Those of us who spend too much time dwelling, stewing, fretting, choose your own method, but spend our time and energies finding excuses or explanations or understanding are standing still trying to figure out or justify our past behavior. But the net result, no matter what the answer, is that we are not doing the things we know for a fact are the things that need to be done to make our dreams reality.

Not one second, in this questing mode, is spent looking for a way to change or move forward or achieve. All of us who are on a path to a goal know what needs to be done to get us there. We are not questing to understand what the right move, that’s obvious: make more calls, write more poems, get more customers, sell more ideas. We know what to do. It’s just the doing it, in spite of being tired after having worked a full day, attended an extra curricular meeting, cleaning the kitchen after dinner checking homework for tomorrow. All good reasons for being tired, no doubt. But, still not getting the job done.

So where does that “extra energy” come from? Woody Allen said, “80% of success is just showing up”! Doing something poorly, or doing it when you are not always fresh and eager may not seem worth the effort. But the difference between doing it less perfectly than you would like and not doing it at all is everything compared to the difference between the less than spectacular performance and the perfect.

Nike captured this as succinctly as is possible, “Just Do It!” If it’s important, if next year you want to be somewhere different than you are today, if, when you look in the mirror you want to be able to say “I did it” instead of “ I didn’t do it because…….”. Just do it! Even if you’re tired. Even when you don’t want to. Even when you’re sure it might not be time well spent. Focus on the goal. While you are in that moment of decision, ask yourself: am I going to turn on the TV or am I going to move a little closer to my dream? See the end result of attaining your vision and ask yourself, as you are acknowledging how tired you are, how much of your energy has already been expended, how much you have already had to do that day, and ask yourself where you want to be next year at this time: on your way to achieving that dream, or being exactly where you are today, still just thinking about the dream.

Show up and see how short the path from there really is.

I have to go write a poem!

3/14/06

So, here we are, I have said to the world, "I have something to say". I set up the forum, and now what? I stare at this very blank page, with the entire universe of topics to explore and realize that this is where the work begins. Its so easy to dream in the big picture, to see yourself living the life you dream, accepting the rewards and accolades and benefits of the realization of the dream. You may even be able to envision the work itself, in a romantic and not too specific way. But here we are, where the pavement meets the road, as they say...go ahead....create....be clever....it seems so easy in verse. Half the fun of verse is organizing the words in a non traditional way that offers a certain licence and lightness to the words. Prose seems so serious, so important.

I think about what it means to inspire....inspire what?....Dr. Wayne (one of my personal hero’s) Dyer says inspire means "in spirit". I have been trying to figure out what inspires me, and what does it mean, to say, "I am inspired?" I associate it with a feeling of wanting more, feeling excited about doing something new, feeling both a confidence and an enthusiasm about tackling that next great challenge or that pesky daunting task. And I'm not talking about the bribery or reward system we sometimes use to coax responsible or performance setting behavior from ourselves. More, inspiration is about the reaching into the core of our being and touching that place that holds the precious answer to "what is my passion? what is my purpose?" When anything you read, or hear or feel or just know causes you to look for that place, to begin to search for it, to recognize or acknowledge it, or most importantly, to act on it that is to feel inspired.

So to even say the words aloud (or, in print) that it is my goal to inspire, that more than anything in the world I want to be an inspirational speaker, is to presume a place I am not quite sure I am qualified to command. My very small self whispers, who am I to dream this huge dream? to assume this large voice? The fear forces doubts and questions, uncertainty and lack of confidence. How can I see and feel this "burning desire" or a very clear vision and yet not have the confidence to go for it.

And yet, there are the assurances of family and friends; that they have been touched and inspired. There is the undeniable ability to articulate thought in a way that helps translates complex or confusing ideas. (I know that is a bit of a pat on the back, but, as a my Grandma always said, "if it's true, it aint bragging".) And this is really the ladder I find myself climbing to get out of this whole I have dug for myself. There is simply no sin in acknowledging one's gifts and having the expectation and satisfaction of using those gifts to the utmost for the benefit of all and any.

Especially when doing so makes you giddily, inexorably, undeniably, goofily, crazily happy............


There once was a girl who loved rhymes
In the best and the worst of the times
So she honored this knack
And acknowledged no lack
Writing love into each of her lines

Since she knew what she needed to do
The obstacles she faced were quite few
Kept her eyes on the goal
Work well anchored in soul
Somehow knew that her dreams would come true

For the folks who supported her art
Left her humbled and grateful of heart
As she grasped the connection
Found in the reflection
Of Spirit’s grace eagerly sought



Spirit's grace eagerly sought......now that's a line! You have no idea how l struggled over the last line of this little limerick. Traditioally, the last line in any poem is the most powerful and important one. It carries the message you are trying to impart. And, I care about the sound of the words and the feelings they impose. This started out as something silly and then, halfway through, started to become important to me. By the end, I needed it to say what I felt, but I could not seem to make it fit or work. The rest of it had just flowed, but the last line was proving a bear! I really did not want to change the rhyme in the first two lines (of the last stanza). So I turned off the TV and covered my face, cleared my head and asked for some help.......Of Spirit's grace eagerly sought was my gift.

3/12/06

I've been thinking a lot about the state of the world and all the things going on these days. I've also been thinking about my very clear political views, ones I hope align with my core values and beliefs, but are no doubt concerned with the physical and human part of our experience vs the spiritual and infinite self about whom I usually try to connect. And while I plan to keep the lines clear between my politics and by poetry, the urge to take a stand politically, and in verse, is tempting and alluring. I have an overly active political interest and knowledge and (without sounding vain) use my intellect and persuasive abilities easily in the political pondering arenas. So my expectation is that I would be witty and clever and get my ideas heard by wrapping them in verse. The idea intrigues me and calls me and on one hand I believe I could have a say here, (after much time spent learning and dues paying yada yada yada). Anyway, the thing is, I am not sure it would be a good thing in other ways.

My political side seems, without much provocation, to bring out the other side of the perpetually happy, and generally enthusiastic demeanor I have been blessed with since childhood. I've noticed, lately, that when I begin to discuss my very definite political ideas, for instance, at parties, with neighbors, I am soon sounding like the harsh opinionated boor everyone runs to avoid. I'm not sure I yet understand exactly what is going on, but I can feel the transformation from the relaxed conversational tones of catching up with long time neighbors to the shrill campaigning pitch politicians sometimes slip in and out from happen as both my temperature and volume increase.

Its not that politics and the world condition and how we manage global situations are unimportant. Not so, its more that as I feel my general tension and intensity start to rise, I know in my heart, to quote Dr. Wayne Dyer, that I am moving toward a low energy experience and away from the high energy "high" that follows creating or sharing my verses. I know this near anger and frenzy politics leads me towards is not my best self and needs to be kept in check at all times. I do not want to deny my interest, and yet continue to struggle to think objectively about world situations while maintaining my best self view that has very different objectives

It is a conundrum, for sure, (I'm sure I feel a poem coming.) Its funny, at times like this, I get the idea for a new poem, start out thinking that I am about to express a specific thought when, once started, I suddenly realize the work has taken on a message of its own, one I had not necessarily planned on. It will be interesting to see where this one takes me. Stay tune, who knows....

3/11/06

So here it is, life has gone on, the big day has come and gone and for everyone else life must seem pretty much the same as before that day, but for me, it is a whole new world. To have the answer to the question on what are you here for? or what is my purpose? or what is my gift? is amazing, euphoric, simply unbelievable! and while I am realistic enough to know that this honeymoon, energized feeling will not last forever, I also know I will be able to look back and draw on this memory and this happiness anytime.

In fact, if nothing more ever happened to me concerning poetry, I could be totally satisfied with knowing that I am able to touch the hearts of my friends and family. Of course, I long to have a larger voice, to reach and touch outside the circle of my immediate and current life, and this is the crux of this endeavour, to raise this voice and see if it still stands with strangers.

But the outcome of the first attempt to share a body of work, vs a piece or two, was so welcomed and encouraged that it has fueled me to the point where I cannot be stopped in the pursuit of my dream!

I don't think I explained the concept of Personal Verses well at the reading, but this is the type of poem that Personal Verses refers to, one written to a specific person or for a specific occassion. I would be delighted to write one for you.

This is for all of you who were there with me, those who could not be, but sent your thoughts and well wishes and prayers:


After the Glow...

The dawn has just broken on what looks to be
A brand new life waiting, one I can’t wait to see
Your being there with me, as I climbed the first rung
Listening intently as the words rolled off my tongue
Meant more to my heart than mere words can declare
The love filled the room up because you were there
I’m so grateful and humbled that you took out the time
And shared with me what had been previously mine
Your kindness and encouragement have helped me to know
That ideas make a difference and help us to grow
I’m inspired to work hard to mature in my art
And invite you along and to please play a part
Of the journey that stretches as I struggle to decode
And make sense of the gift with which I’ve been bestowed
For no doubt exists from where this talent extends
The rhymes and the rhythms are not mine in the end
I just solve the puzzle of what words to put where
Rendering dreams whispered as they float in the air




so, let me know if you are reading this blog, leave me a comment, would love to hear from you... Tina Ann

3/9/06

It seems I have this large silly grin that simply will not go away, the euphoria of last night's unveiling was so satisfying and so encouraging to someone who has had some crisis' of confidence (though from now on vows not to) . To have people tell you that your words have touched them, inspired them, made them think of a treasured memory, there is no greater sense of .....I hesitate to name it, this....this happiness....to do something you love to do and fight and scrape for the time to create and do share that effort and then, to have your audience acknowledge the connection made is simply the highest aim I could hope to strive for.

We all want to be happy, but what is that happiness?.....when are we truly the happiest? and I find that for me, its when the grin on my face is its natural state and the energy courses through me at every level, when my senses seem more accute and every thought has a connection to a bigger self . I am inspired all over again to write and write.........oh but for the time.

3/9/06

Thanks to all who came to my debut Poetry Reading last night, you made me feel as if I were wrapped in a warm cozy blanket. I felt honored that you all would be there with me, for me, for my debut. And the fact that you not only tolerated me, but that you liked me, you really liked me (I feel like Sally Field!).

The reception was outstanding, the comments were not only positive, they were specific, you even knew why you like the poetry! But the most amazing compliment is that you listened....no whispering, no fidgeting, you really listened! and complained that they went too fast, that you would have liked slower pace so you could savor the words and the message.

You made my heart sing. thanks to all!

3/7/06

I cannot believe this is my 4th blog post and I have totally missed (until today) seeing this as another opportunity to offer quotes! I have the quote of the day on my wipe off board at work, as the signature on my email and now, can post a daily thought here! So exciting! why am I so enamored of quotes? (you ask). It must stem, first, from a love of words and an appreciation of putting those words together in a way that provokes thought or offers new ideas.

Also, there is something to be said for the concise nature of a quote. You get, at best, 2 sentences, most are one. So the challenge, much like poetry, is to make a specific statement within the confines of structure. And, in the case of quotes, the challenge is to impart your message in a clever, familiar, or stylish enough way to make the thought seep through and keep it with you far after the original reading of the quote is over. If it cannot do this, what's the point?

So, now, having built up the Quote of the Day idea, I offer the first of (what is planned to be) my offering of a sniglet of a thought to ponder each day......(now I have built this up and all quotes will seem inadequate). Oh well, here goes with the original thought I picked out before creating this entry:


"The fatal metaphor of progress, which means leaving things behind us, has utterly obscured the real idea of growth, which means leaving things inside us." ~Gilbert K. Chesterton (1874-1936, British author)

it will do....

3/6/06

So, it seems this may be confusing for someone joining the blog from some starting point other than personalverses.com (ha ha, I write this pretending there is an audience, hopeful that soon there will be one).

I have been thinking about blogging for quite some time now, and was waiting for....what? the right tool? the right time? the inspiration? I don't know, like anyting we hold the desire to do (but don't act on) as an unfulfilled dream, it just seemed time to stop talking about it and do it. Of course, the advent of the site and the public launching of both the site and myself have provided the impetus (and the deadline) to get going. With a committment to post (most) every day, I wonder what someone, who, as everyone knows, is seldom at a loss for words, but, having a blank page stretching in front of me, a open mike, an uncensored forum to expound on the myriad of inane topics I find my mind preoccupied with every day will be able to stay focused on a topic long enough to string together a not only coherent, but intelligent and thoughtgul thought. (Wow, I've made myself dizzy......)

But enough about my doubts and uncertaintanties etc. It's all posturing anyway, we all know I crave the spotlight and seek out readers for my words. So, time for a thought instead of am apology for wanting to share a thought. It's just that I have been so pre-occupied with my "coming out" (aka poetry reading) that I have neglected my daydreaming. Isn't it funny how we get so busy just doing the things we "gotta" do that there is no time for putting any energies toward doing the things that make our souls sing, the things we "wanna" do.

And yet, for the past year, while I have been "thinking" about these things I wanted to do; write more poetry, publish, start a web site, begin seriously pursuing a speaking career. I didn't know where the energy was going to come from to pursue these things, I still have to work, the family still has expectations of my time. And yet, once I set the date, for the poetry reading, for the web site, I was infused with enthusiasm and the sheer joy of doing something I didn't have to do, but wanted to and was willing and eager to do the work involved in the efforts I had taken on. There was simply no question of where the energy would come from, it simply appeared until I found (find) myself not missing the free time, not feeling tired or drained from working on what is essentially two full time jobs but eagerly enjoying every minute, those spent in the immediate pursuit of these personal goals as well as those spent completing another task, one not directly linked, but that once completed would allow me to work on my project.