This week, I’ve had the odd experience of running into several old friends from high school that I haven’t seen in more than 15 years.  It’s interesting trying to sum up your life in a few minutes: What have you been doing? Where do you live? What do you presentely do?

Given only a few minutes, what do I choose to divulge? How do I present myself: mother, wife, writer, editor, organizer, etc.

In the age of blogs, facebook, and twitter, many of my friends (and strangers) know a bit about my life (depending on what I have chosen to disclose on any given day).  A few times when I’ve been at dinner with friends, I have told a story and before I’m through, I learn that the other party has already read about that particular event or anecdote online. Curious, curious times that we live in.

And speaking of time, I have to pick up my youngest from preschool. Alas the rain has stopped. I had hoped for more.

The lines between the two are blurred of course.

I try to carry a notebook to catch fragments too precious to let slip away when I’m in the middle of playing with my kids, or shopping for coffee, or in the shower, or arguing with my mother, or walking alone in the neighborhood. Because that’s when plot twists or character revelations so often happen, and I mourn the loss of those things that have already faded with time.

I usually feel like I swing between the two: living and writing, but Autumn is the time when I exist most fully in the “in between.” Autumn is coming, and I am relieved and excited. Summer has been joyful and full of connection and community, but I look forward to the shift of the seasons.

Starting this week, all three kids are in school. (My youngest had her first day of half-day preschool today!) This means that I have a few consistent hours to myself for the first time in seven years. It’s only a few hours, but it’s not time “stolen” from the kids or from my husband or from sleep. It’s a few hours of relatively guilt-free time to work on writing, editing, etc., and it’s another reason to be grateful for Autumn.

So I turn back to the work: to look at author photos, write notes on the cover illustration, update websites, follow up with bookstores for tour dates, finish other book-related business.

But one morning this week, after I drop off the kids, I will sit in the garden or in the kitchen or in my office (it doesn’t really matter because the house will be…quiet), and I will write.

Presented with an opportunity to host a photography workshop with Kyle Cassidy, I saw a chance to “build a container”: to create an opportunity for friends and artists to get together, learn from a talented teacher, and commit to making their art.

On Friday evening, Molly Robison, Lindsay, Madeline, and I picked up Kyle from the airport and drove to Kate’s lovely home, where we enjoyed bottles of Spanish wine and tapas. We met Kate’s dogs, admired her yard and amazing playhouse, listened to the fabulous Molly play, and sat on the deck enjoying the cool Chicago evening in the company of good friends (thanks Kate and Sam).

Saturday morning began with coffee, tea, and snacks as folks trickled in. After breakfast, participants discussed their experience and expectations. I wasn’t participating in the workshop, so I stayed in the kitchen chopping vegetables for the black bean soup and salad I planned to serve for lunch. (I was also eavesdropping and would occasionally peek through the doorway.)

(Fuzzy photo by my phone)

My parents were watching the kids for the weekend—affording Mark the time to work in the yard and giving me the time and space to be fully present.

(photo by Ellen of 8 Eyes Photography)

The weekend was filled with so many great moments as I watched people wander through Casa del Lobos and around the neighborhood—searching for perfect sunlight or appropriate background for this or that shot. I was able to spend time with some of my favorite people, and I made new friends I can’t wait to see again. I also had the opportunity to spend more time with Kyle, whom I genuinely like and respect; and I love that he’s a creative catalyst inspiring people to make art.

(photo by Ellen of 8 Eyes Photography)

It was creative bliss: meandering through cameras, light stands, portfolios, and notebooks; watching people view the world through their own particular lenses.

The weekend culminated in a wine & cheese gallery night on Sunday, where fantastic photographs from the weekend were displayed around our backyard, waiting to be discovered by friends and family while we savored wines and cheeses.

(photo of lovely assistant/model Angela Enos by Carl Hertz)

At one point, my parents brought over the kids to see the photos. It’s important to me that they grow up watching people pursue their passions, knowing that they too can create art and dream big. The kids left with my folks; and amidst tiki torches and candles, we gathered around Molly Robison to hear her play. It was the perfect close to the night and weekend.

On Monday, after a few photo shoots (Kyle was able to take a few portraits of Chicago area veterans for his newest book, War Paint), we stopped by the home of novelist Ysabeau Wilce, author of Flora Segunda (read it: fantastic world-building and compelling characters). I was introduced to Ysabeau and her husband, and we met Molly for lunch. After a delicious meal at Reza’s and lively conversation about Clarion, writing, giving birth, motherhood, schedules, and secret projects, it was suddenly time to get Kyle to the airport. The fabulous weekend was over.

The Sufi poet Rumi wrote: “Start a huge, foolish project, like Noah…it makes absolutely no difference what people think of you.” (Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi)
I hope that everyone who came into contact with Kyle that weekend starts a “huge, foolish project.” I look forward to watching what happens next. I have no doubt it will be wonder-filled.

The summer is nearly over, and while I’m not a summer person I do enjoy the freedom from schedules and routines afforded by kids on summer break. I still sometimes feel as if I’m grasping at the wind while is rushes by. Only a few weeks until they go back, schedules will shift again and one kid of freedom (from classes and activities) will be replaced by another (a few hours to myself for the first time in years as Lana goes to preschool).

Alison and the boys are back in Paris. It was a wonderful visit, and we were sad to see them go. We’re already looking forward to the next time, probably on their side of the Atlantic.

She left me with wonderful memories and this amazing spread, Speculoos by Lotus.

(Sorry for the fuzzy MacBook photo)

Speculaas is a type of shortcrust biscuit, traditionally baked during the winter holidays, but in recent decades it has become available all year round. I fell in love with these cookies while living in Germany, and now Alison has introduced me to a spread made of this stuff! It’s lovely on crusty bread (or at two in the morning eaten directly off a spoon as I did right before this photo was taken). Good stuff!

Focals kindly agreed to help me to hand out vouchers last Sunday at the Borders Benefit Day at the Michigan Avenue store. We handed out nearly 400 vouchers. I’m hopeful that we were able to get quite a few people to turn in their vouchers and raise some money for CWA and the Hall of Fame. Also had the chance to meet three other Chicago writers: Gary W. Moore (Playing with the Enemy), Michael Weeks (The Complete Civil War Road Trip Guide), and Arnie Bernstein (Bath Massacre). Lovely men signed my books and were in good spirits even when most of the hoard that swarmed the store passed by their signing table.

I toured a print shop this morning thanks to a connection from my friend Melissa, and I learned about the modern process of printing and binding. Fascinating! I love the sounds and sights of the print shop: all the machines, the paper, the potential! I wished for a camera (and the skill to use it) to photograph some of the machines, especially the older ones with their gears and levers. They fed my imagination.

Many recent projects have been revolving around the release of The Silence of Trees. Working with the talented Madeline Carol Matz on the cover (I am confident it will be the first of many projects we will work on together).

Chicago Literary Hall of Fame ceremony planning is in the works (did I mention I’m now on the Board of Directors for the Chicago Writers Association?) as we contact special guests, entertainment, and hopefully sponsors. This deserves its own post at a later date. I hope that some of you can make it to Northeastern Illinois University on November 20, 2010.

I’ll be teaching an online Writing course this Fall, so I had to rethink my syllabus. I’m excited to teach again, but a wee bit nervous about the change in media. So much of my teaching was in the delivery and discussion. We’ll see how to translate this into an online experience.

Mark and I continue to work in the yard. Recent rains left us with a pond over half our property. We’re trying to figure out the best ways to deal with recurring water issues. The current plan is to plant many water loving trees and shrubs. We’re ripping up grass and planting things most nights after dinner before putting the kids to bed. We’re also planning a rock garden for the back near the shed. Slowly it begins to take shape.

Kyle will lead a group of 12 photographers in a two-day workshop, and at the end there will be a gallery opening/wine & cheese party to show off their work. Also this weekend, my cover artist Madeline Carol Matz will be in town, so tomorrow night we’ll be getting together after picking up Kyle from the airport. We’ll congregate at the Evanstonian home of Kate Tabor, a teacher-friend who will also be in Kyle’s workshop this weekend.

Kate just returned from a teacher seminar studying Shakespeare in the UK (oh how envious is my inner Academic) and Spain (oh how envious is my inner Gypsy). Check out her blog, Living on the Lip of Insanity for highlights. I can’t wait to hear more, and she has promised Spanish treats to help us reminisce about that leg of her journey. Ah Spanish olives….

So back to work, the kids will be staying with my folks for most of the weekend, and I’m attempting to get things in order in preparation of Kyle’s arrival tomorrow. Then shopping for a variety of vegan and gluten-free treats.

TAKE NOTE: If there are any veterans who are interested in being photographed on Monday, Aug. 2nd (or this weekend) for Kyle’s latest book, War Paint: Tattoo Culture & the Armed Forces, please contact me ASAP.

Doing all right are the carrots, tomatoes, lima beans, and beets. The rhubarb is struggling, as are the peppers and pickles. The onions, pumpkin, and cucumbers did not fare well. I think the asparagus may be ok, but I’ll have to wait until next year to know for sure.

So I’m not ready for a harvest, not yet. But the signs of autumn are not far away, and the kids are counting down until the end of summer vacation.

Fall is my favorite season, but I’m not quite ready for it. I have a few more things I’d like to do this summer. Soon, though. Soon I will embrace the shorter days and longer nights, the brisk wind and land ablaze in autumn colors, the spiced cider and smell of baking.

Until then, there is this (from Shel Silverstein):

Changing of the Seasons

Oh the changing of the seasons it’s a pretty thing to see
And though I find this balmy weather pleasin’
There’s the wind come from tomorrow and I hear it callin’ me
And I’m bound for the changing of the seasons
Oh it’s blowin’ in Chicago and it’s snowin’ up in Maine
And the Islands to the south are warm and sunny
And I’ve got to feel the earth shake and I gotta feel the rain
And I’ve got to know a taste of more than honey

So don’t ask me where I’m goin’ or how long I’m gonna be away
Don’t make me give you all the hollow reasons
I’ll think of you like summer and I might be back some day
When my heart miss the changing of the seasons
Oh it’s blowin’ in Chicago…

Oh it’s nothing that you said and it ain’t nothing that you done
And I wish I could explain you why I’m leavin’
But there’s some men need the winter and there’s some men need the sun
And there’s some men need the changing of the seasons
Yeah it’s blowin’ in Chicago…

Sheldon Allan Silverstein

I returned home from Arizona into a whirlwind of cleaning and rearranging. After the wide open spaces and skies of Arizona, the flow of the living room felt off, cluttered. We moved one of the bookcases up to our bedroom and shifted the furniture of the living room around so that it now feels more airy.

My friend Al and her two boys arrived from Paris, and the older kids attended science camp, while the younger three went to summer camp. This week we have free to explore Chicago and have random kid-generated adventures. It’s good having them here. I miss our lazy sleep-deprived afternoons in Frankfurt from oh-so-many-years ago, and I’m grateful for this time to reconnect.

Then the Fourth of July brought family aplenty at a bbq/family reunion hosted by my parents. Good to have chats with cousins I haven’t seen since the last family shower. Kids and cat survived nightlong fireworks well enough, although I fell asleep in my youngest daughter’s bed with contacts in.

This week brings decisions about the cover and release party for The Silence of Trees, calls and emails to secure special guests and entertainment for the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame, and preparation for an online class I’ll be teaching it the Fall.

I also plan to start reading my next book to the kids (S.C.). It’s the first that’s age appropriate, and though I tell my children stories randomly on walks, at bedtime, and so on, I am excited to share my written words with them. We’ll see what they think.

Just as house concerts are bringing live music directly into people’s homes, so too is the internet; and Amanda Palmer is at the forefront, using twitter, blogging, and Ustream to break down some of the barriers between artists and their audiences.

Joined by Maryannerooney, Tabor330, Onesockshort, I had a fabulous view from a central table just off the main floor (thanks to the magic of Tabor), and we met up with Mcmatz who was in town for the Evelyn Evelyn show.

My husband had seen Evelyn Evelyn in Köln, Germany. Jetlagged on his first night back in Europe, he went straight from work and was able to catch the performance (thanks Neil) before hopping on a late train to return to his hotel in Frankfurt. He really enjoyed the show, especially Sxip Shirey’s performance.

When Evelyn Evelyn came to Chicago a month later, it was my turn.

In the first half of this theatrical music performance, Amanda Palmer and Jason Webley perform as a fictional set of conjoined twin sisters under the watchful eye of their handler (played by Sxip Shirey).

I’d heard the songs before (my kids LOVE Elephant Elephant): an album of show tunes, narration, a power ballad, and even a cover of Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart.” However, more than just a collection of songs, Evelyn Evelyn is musical theater (complete with puppets), and it’s the personalities of the three artists involved that make the show successful and fun to watch.

The second half of the show featured solo sets by each artist, starting with Sxip Shirey who blew me away with his musical prowess. Innovative and sexy music from unexpected instruments: Sxip uses marbles in glass bowls, recycled bells and music boxes, horns and pennywhistles to make beautiful compositions. I was entranced, impressed, and instantly a fan.

Next Jason Webley took the stage with a voice that came booming out from somewhere deep inside what appears to be an ordinarily calm and unassuming exterior. I was unprepared for his music and utterly enchanted. Amanda Palmer joined him on the stage and after a few shared tunes, she turned to her own repertoire of playful and provocative songs that had many in the crowd singing along.

Photo by Christina Jones (@redbug138)

Amanda Palmer is an entertainer. She connects with the crowd, taps into their energy, and delivers her music in a way that makes it feel honest and personal. Her music is excellent, but it’s the personality and performance that set Amanda apart and endear her to her audience.

All three performers made their own particular brand of provocative music in the second set, and it was easy to see how these three could have been attracted to one another. Each artist has a quality of raw intensity and fearlessness in their music. The theatrics of the show were entertaining, but the authenticity of their work is what most impressed me. That’s what will keep me listening.

After the concert, Chicago singer-songwriter Molly Robison invited us over to her apartment, where they were having a little soiree because Sxip and Jason were crashing there for the night. There were tasty treats concocted by her roommate and much hospitality by her sister and friends.

Much of the time, I enjoy being in the thick of conversation. That night I had a comfy chair in the corner, a cup of tea, and was content to be the writer/mom-of-three-in-the-corner-who-didn’t-quite-fit-in-but-enjoyed-the-music-and-conversation-aflutter-around-me.

My favorite part of the night was when Molly Robison had the chance to play “Fake Plastic Trees” with Amanda, Jason, Sxip, and others. I know how much it meant to her, and she positively glowed. With that, I’ll share the video of the song and bid you good night.

Molly Robison and the Gang

We live in remarkable times, and I love to watch the ways this is unfolding. Some artists are making the most of the new technological ways of reaching listeners, like ustream and twitter. Others are bringing back old ways of connecting with fans, like house concerts. The most successful seem to be making use of both old and new methods.

How many of you have attended a house-concert?

Alaskan folk singer Marian Call (photo by Rob Lambert) began her house concert in Chicago with this question, and for most in attendance, Marian’s show was the first. Apparently house concerts are a movement spreading across the US, where singers (mostly independent) perform in people’s homes and private spaces (like barns, backyards, and garages). There’s even a website: http://www.concertsinyourhome.com/

I had received the invite and decided to check it out, partly because the house concert idea struck me as similar to the salon idea I’ve previously written about. Marian’s tour is powered by the spirit of creative collaboration. I love the idea of people gathering together in homes to celebrate art and music, supporting one another.

So while I was enthusiastic about the experience and happy to spend time with dear friends, I didn’t expect to be blown away by this intelligent, endearingly geeky woman with the mighty voice.

I was impressed when I heard her first song, but she had me once she introduced us to her classic Underwood typewriter (named Madeleine) and played the Nerd Anthem. (I’ve linked to a live coffeehouse version because it more closely captures my own experience of the song, as compared to the more polished studio version on her album).

Lovely One Sock Short was a perfect hostess for my first house concert. She provided the space and invited friends, and Marian came with her guitarist and performed. Chicago was one stop (the third, I believe) on  Marian’s 49-state DIY tour. She’s touring all 50 states, “powered entirely by fans, friends, and people who believe that good music is worth it. No agents, labels, or middle men required.”

As someone who has never had any musical training, I am in awe of people who can make music and belt out songs of emotion and intensity. Marian Call took us on a musical journey, her song are smart, witty, and poignant (and her guitarist Scott Barkan was incredible!) If she comes to your town, go! Listen to her. Chat with her. Buy her cd. Tip her generously.

Up next…Amanda Palmer and the Evelyn Evelyn sisters…

This weekend I met up with my friend Alla (of Prairie Sunshine Yoga) and her daughter, my goddaughter Ksenia, for a delicious dinner at West Town Tavern, followed by crepes and coffee at The Iguana Cafe (with a real iguana!). The “European-style cafe” has a diverse crowd (which makes for great people-watching) and awesome crepes.

Sunday we spent shopping for bushes and trees for the front lawn, and then planting. The kid were (mostly) cooperative. Fuzzy photo taken on the laptop before we left to go shopping: