DAY 57 / Pachobel, Writers Conference

The Front Porch of the Oceanic Hotel at the Isles of Shoals

Okay so this is a mid afternoon ramble of thoughts, let's call it an exercise in creative writing - you know, like when they play Pachobel Canon in D in the classroom on a fall afternoon with the sun shining warmly across the student's desk.  You are not supposed to stop for anything but instead overlook all errors nor is your pen (remember when we used pen and paper to write?!) is not supposed to leave the paper so on you go, writing creatively about whatever happens to flow into your mind. Eventually or shall we say hopefully you are supposed to tap into a creative flow and suddenly a story will begin to emerge, to take place. Well I don't have Pachobel playing in the background but I am tempted to stop typing long enough to retrieve it from my music files!

Just so you know, what I do have playing here in the background is the solitary thump, thump sound of the dryer humming away as it dries my pajamas, sweatpants, long johns, and other lovely articles of fashion which seem to be my daily wardrobe lately here at ATB.  Poor John is all I can say. Actually this afternoon he had to create a diversion for himself and I really can't say as I blame him!  He has been working hard to obtain funding from various sources for ground improvements at the field trial grounds where two clubs we belong to hold field trials.  Several months have passed and he discovered little progress has been made so once again he got the ball rolling.  As a result we have drafted letters to where they need to be sent and he has called a meeting of the board of one of the clubs we're involved with.  I know he just really needs to get away from my complaining about how miserable I feel.  And that's what love is for sometimes. Okay I am going to break the rules here for creative writing and make a few corrections and look for the Pachabel music.  I think I need it to go along with my cup of tea that I am enjoying while sitting here writing

OKAY:  TIME OUT

Speaking of necessary diversions... okay, I'm back and look what I brought with me LOL !  It wasn't hard to find the music I wanted, I went to YouTube and found the version that had over 8  million  views and figured THAT must be a decent version. Okay, so now I am writing with Pachobel playing... ahhh.... that is much nicer! Oh come on, just try it - you know you want to.  Even if you hate classical music, listen to this - just once!!!!  Did you know, I never even knew what that beautiful masterpiece of music was until that fall day many years ago at a UNH satellite campus in a wonderful creative writing class.  (Years later it played as our daughter walked down the aisle on her wedding day.)  The English Professor totally turned my mind in a new direction of writing, she was awesome.  The following year I took an additional writing class which only enhanced what I had learned before. (Before you think you're someone in the Twilight Zone please know that a very rotund and uncomfortable Treasure IS laying on top of my feet, Jack has gone with John, Pippin is nearby and our ATB pellet stove heated dog house finds the crew laying outside catching some rays of the afternoon sun, sheltered from the cold enjoying their new above ground pallets in their roomy outdoor dry runs.)

So next came a writers and artists conference, a 3 day weekend and I have to say, as strange as this sounds it was one of the best weekends I ever had. Our class met in Portsmouth, NH at the docks at Market Square, fully packed and prepared to spend a weekend together at the hotel out at the Isles of Shoals.  No kidding. As a result of attending and particupating students would receive additional college credit and I do believe it was 4.  Growing up in New Castle of course I was well familiar with the Shoals but I had never spent the night there, and certainly not at the hotel. OMG it was like flashing back to the turn of the century.  Two people shared a very small room and I remember falling in love with the room the moment I set eyes upon the small screened window which opened to the sound of seagulls, waves and the intoxicating scent of fresh salt air; things I had left behind from my childhood home years ago.  It truly was magical.  You just have to look at this video link here to see what I am talking about.  http://starisland.org/visiting/island-tour/  Meals were served in shifts and classes were posted on the whiteboards in the grand lobby of the hotel.  So you see this creative writing thing is kind of cool as I am 'thinking summer' at the moment.  There is a huge porch that wraps the entire hotel on the island there, and the rocking chairs beckoned me to come spend time reflecting, writing, reflecting. The whole purpose was to evaluate our surroundings, to take note of each and every thing which may or may not have been significant. To walk the paths around the island, observe the nostalgic places of long ago, think on the past, present, and history of where we were.  It was to be personal. To record those things on the pad which was to be always in our possession.  There was structure without structure. We were all accountable to ourselves and to our teachers, who were magnificent in their ability to teach. Each day brought something new. Classes were held throughout the day at various locations.  One morning the assignment was to go to writer Celia Thaxters garden - OMG - this was a dream come true for me, to walk amidst 'An Island Garden'. http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/thaxter/garden/garden.html Are you kidding?  It was a lesson, it was a class, it was a test involving all that surrounded the garden and all that was contained within.  I should say I was homesick but I was not.  I was totally alone yet totally at peace with the writer which rests within me, somewhere still.  Three awesome days in September on the Isles of Shoals, writing, learning, sharing, and so much more. It was sort of like a writer's retreat/workshop yet offered college credits.  Graded on participation, originality, writing skill, some technical writing, etc. the prerequisite for this class was the previously mentioned one which started this whole little jaunt down memory lane. I think of the beautiful and magnificent Pachobel Canon as it continues to play now and consider what inspiration lay behind the music? Indeed it is a wonderful composition for a wise English profession to use to set the scene for novice writers to enjoy exploring the creativity of their own writing in hopes of further igniting the flame.  Oh yeah. So the bigger picture is I am a creative writer who studied for ministry credentials to become a pastor and who also possesses several accumulated credits towards an associates degree who finds her greatest pleasure sharing the love of God and dogs with her family and friends and I also play minimal guitar, piano, flute and have occasionally written worship songs. (I was so inspired by Celia Thaxters beautiful island cottage style garden that John and I did a lot of landscaping to reflect that impact, efforts not appreciated by the younger generation in later years. Just sayin.)  In the meantime the only other sound I hear is the sound of Pippin shredding something in the distant background and I bet I'm not going to be happy. Take care and God Bless, John, Ann and ATB 
Warning: Listening to Pachobel Can Be Hazardous or Absolutely Wonderful for Your State of Mind