WISDOM Wednesday: “A Room of My Own?” Part One

   This story was written by Malati Marlene Shinazy

“A Room of My Own?” Part One

In 1929, the writer Virginia Woolf published an extended essay entitled, “A Room of One’s Own.” Without digging too far into the actual content, philosophy or critique of this collection of lectures, the idea of having “A Room of One’s Own” in which to pursue one’s interests has taken some shape for many generations of women in our family. Many of the women in my grandmothers’ generation had a room of one’s own…

Each one of these women “owned” the kitchen. Make no doubt about it. When they were cooking, we stayed away… serious creative business, cooking. Only my grandfather and uncle, professional chefs in their own right, were allowed to peek into these castles of dominion. The commoners: kids, young moms and dads, had to stay away – far away. When the meal was prepared and ready for presentation, we were summoned.

One of my grandmothers was a potter, then a glazer, then a jewelry artist. On her land was not just a room of one’s own. She had an entire building dedicated to her artistic pursuits. It was called her pottery house: A little two room cottage, with plenty of windows, Dutch-doors on both ends, wheels, kilns, shelves of all sorts of potions – or so it seemed to me. I think they were actually chemicals she mixed to develop different glazes for her work. In her of jewelry making era, much of the equipment was re-purposed for creating molds for melting gold. This was more than a “room of one’s own.” This was an alchemist’s studio.

One of my female relatives had no need for a room of one’s own. What she did need, however, was closet space. Lots and lots of closet space for her lots and lots of dresses --- First, she filled the walk-in closet that covered the length of her master bedroom. Then, as each of her children left the nest, she swept in hawk-like and claimed their closet as her own. Comically, when she retired and had an entire home of her own, she still needed more closet space than the house could bear. I once measured 16-1/2 feet of additional over-the-door hangers for her clothes… Creativity seems to take many forms.

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And the story continues, click on 
http://bobbblogg.blogspot.com/2012/01/room-of-my-own-part-two.html  
to continue reading  “A Room of My Own?” Part Two

"A Room of My Own?” Part Two

  This story was written by Malati Marlene Shinazy

. . .  Part Two . . .

I never had what could be called a room of one’s own. I use to feel cheated by this.

When I was a young, accomplished, award-winning seamstress, the only space in which I could work was my family’s living room. I would spread out my patterns, fabrics  (yards and yards of wools, satins, velvets) scissors and pins across the living room floor. When the cutting was complete, I’d gather all the myriad pieces of a soon-to-be evening gown, cocktail dress or coat into a careful pile, carry it away in a box and clean the room for public use. I’d transport it all to the sewing machine in my mother’s room; sew for a few hours then, clean up again. I’d store all stages of my sewing projects on the foot of my bed; drag it out again, day after day, until the project was done.

I loved the time I had no room but a house full of kids. They were everywhere; their stuff was everywhere; their friends were everywhere. Oh yes, their cats, dogs, bunnies and birds were everywhere also.

I was there too, without the coveted room of one’s own. When they were very young, their dad and I often had to leave the master bedroom because the bed was filled with our kids. Dad had a great idea, however, and built small beds at the foot and sides of the master bed so each child could be near us, but in their own “nest.”  …. Nope, this was definitely not a room of one’s own.

As the kids got older, although their dad and I divorced, we decided to have one house in which the kids would live. He and I would come and go. The kids wouldn’t have to schlep their stuff back and forth to each parent’s house on odd weekdays or alternate weekends. The divorced parents rotated, not the kids. Their environment remained stable for them…. Oh yes, when I vacated the house every other weekend and Dad came in, I’d empty “my” room and he’d take over…. Yes indeed, still, no room of one’s own.

Now my kids are grown. I have not just a room of one’s own. I have an entire house. I even have my own master bedroom with attached bathroom. I don’t share any room with anyone… At last, what I thought I always wanted has come to fruition. I have the ever-desired room of one’s own! Actually, I have lots and lots of rooms of my own!

But wait…. I recently realized something is missing… I only had to ask myself once, “What is missing?” The answer came quickly. What is missing is the family of my youth, with sisters and brothers tumbling around the rooms like puppies falling out of a basket. The family of my adulthood is missing too: kids and kids’ friends, pets, activity, noise, music, barking, laughter, giggling, phones constantly ringing. Did I miss anything? Probably… there’s a lot missing.

What I thought was so important all my life, a room of one’s own, is not actually something I want after all.  For me, all this space leaves a void. I don’t really care for it. Not one little bit.

I’ve decided, Ii’s time for me to fill up the void with new pets and small clusters of friends. Also, whenever possible (not just on holidays), I’m going to invite over my brother and sister. And, although they are scattered all over the world, I’m going to create new traditions so my almost-launched kids, and their friends, come over for gatherings -- filling the rooms with familiar laughter, chatting, and witty interchange.

                                                                                                    

For me, a room full of love and energy is much more satisfying than a room of one’s own.

Still Dreaming, Again – The Early Years

Still Dreaming, Again

by Shinazy

  I want to thank Sheri Robinson, Editor Babe for her help in telling this story

I’m standing in line at my local Starbucks waiting to order my current favorite: a semi healthy, grande-soy-latte-105*-no- foam latte (ahhh, ordering coffee is now such an adventure!)  Behind me are two young women discussing their future.  The tall one tells her friend, “Why don’t you just give up?  No one’s going to publish your poems.”  To this, the poet sighs, “But it’s my dream.”

Dreaming one thing; doing another.  I never failed at anything – (wink, wink ) . . . although - I may have been less successful at many things including being a poet laureate, published author, a professional writer.

I, too, wrote poems during those dark brooding adolescent years.  On 8 x 11 ½ inch lined binder paper, secured in a black plastic spiral notebook, I deposited lyrical expressions – images of the torture of being so misunderstood.  .  .  I, too, dreamt of publishing my work.  But, then my focus changed.  Boys distracted me and I postponed my dream.

In my 20s, I started writing a novel: a fictional tale of a young woman who had yet to discover her identity and her strength (goals, mind you, I had yet to discover within myself).  I titled the book, Imprisoned Shadow, an appropriate name for those anguish-filled, soul-searching, personality-developing years. However, this time, it was the joy (although time-consuming effort) of raising a family; Mom – my name, my title, my pseudonym - distracted me and I blissfully postponed my dream.

Then, the worst day of my life occurred . . . I had my 30^th birthday!  Remember, we couldn’t trust anyone over 30 and now I was . . . .  Ouch . . .  30!  However, with my years of experience being a parent, I claimed a renewed faith in the future and I decided to write a child user guide - an updated version of the Dr. Spock's Baby & Child Care™.  It was to be an encyclopedia of sorts, providing all my practical “know how” of what to-do and when-to-do its, such as placing a plastic wading pool under the highchair when teaching a child how to drink from a cup; or laying a full-length mirror sideways on the floor so that a playmate was always in the room.  I typed and typed, and typed, one copy for me, one copy for my publisher.  But, inevitably, as, my “job” became a “career” - distracted I became, postponed became my dream.

Sometime during my early 40s, I was introduced to espresso.  As this new love affair began, a new problem presented itself:  where could I find great coffee outside my neighborhood?  Yes, I might find a mocha frappuccino here and there, but these locations were far and few between.  Ah, ha!  I saw a need for a coffee travel book.  And, of course, I was the perfect person to write the “Latte Highway.”  (After all, these were the prehistoric days before Starbucks and Pete’s Coffee became as essential to the very function of my life as sunshine, clean water, fresh air.)  But, alas, as time passed, the promise of the next best-selling travel guide became more and more faint, and then stilled altogether as the emergence of a new diversion reared its head: the birth of the Starbucks Gold Reward Card.  The almost sinister lure of endless ounces of this steamy black elixir and its flavorful accompaniments – all “free” with the right accumulation of “stars,” of course – had tempted me away from my original purpose.  I heard it whisper, “Why write when you can simply drink . . ., and enjoy all the rewards?”  I took the bait.  For years afterward, my caffeine-infused mind occasionally would ask.  “Now, where did I put that dream?”

Fast forward two decades and my dreams of publishing had morphed into mere quickly jotted-down fragments of informational tidbits . . . like the thought that catches the corner of your eye and vanishes when you look directly at it – was something really there?  No published poems, no great American novel, no guides, nor tales.  Instead, I focused my desire to write into composing clear-concise memos, well-crafted business strategies, procedures, emails, texts.

I wonder, did my desire to write – really write - ever fade away?  Or, did it remain crouching behind my memories and to-do lists.  Can I resurrect my dream?  Is it ever too late? 

Nay, it’s never too late. 

Today is a new day and here I sit at my computer . . . typing, writing, telling stories.

And, still dreaming, again!

MUSIC Monday: Please sing me your autograph! – Part 2 of 3

Written by Daryl Allison     www.muzartworld.org

You remember sitting in the car listening to the radio, making mix tapes of your favorite bands, maybe a special one for your high school sweetheart. Today’s kids aren’t any different in their love for music. More have been moved at some point in their lives by a piece of music they listtened to than a game they watched.

How many families are heading out for a local, free concert in the park? How many kids can grab an instrument and go jam in the backyard with Dad?

We encourage our kids into Little League Baseball. High school football gets segments on local sports news. College football and basketball are huge industries. None of these are professions. They are all parts of our kids growth and education. Yes, being active is important in health. There are plenty of studies that show healthy competition, the discipline of sports, structure of teams, all these facets of sports benefits our children. There are an equal number of studies that show the benefits that music education has on learning as a whole. I could list plenty of those studies, but instead I’m going to share with you this quote that I love from Nina Kraus, a prominent brain researcher at Northwestern University, “Music training leads to changes throughout the auditory system that prime musicians for listening challenges beyond music processing…music training does for brain fitness what exercise does for body fitness.”

With how we push and promote our kids into sports, surely we care about their minds as much as their bodies, right? Where’s the encouragement for kids to register for their seasonal, organized jam sessions? Where’s the local media covering the local amateur bands every Friday night? Where’s the March Madness Battle of the Bands?

Did you know over one billion dollars are given out in athletic scholarships every year? The average athletic scholarship exceeds $10,000. The average music scholarship is in the neighborhood of 20% of that total, with far fewer of them awarded. College is the highest level of education. Every family wants their children to go. Our system says playing sports is the smart choice, that being an athlete makes college more likely an affordable option, yet it’s music that makes college more likely to be an option in the first place.

Next Monday, Part 3

http://www.muzartworld.org/blog/2011/11/please-sing-me-your-autograph-part-2/

TECH Thursday: Introduction to Facebook’s Timeline, coming to a computer near you

 
by Shinazy

Facebook.  For some of us Facebook is just two four-letter words, for others it is the local café, and for others still it has replaced letter writing and postal stamp buying.  Regardless of our personal feelings about it, like the telephone – (remember that black thing that sat in the hallway nook tethering us to within 3 feet of the wall) – Facebook is here to stay.  And like the telephone, just when we finally figured out how to friend our friends, post on our wall, leave comments on our friend’s wall, what does Facebook do?  . . .  It changes!

Get ready for Facebook’s new profile layout: Timeline (hey, another double four letter word.)  It’s coming, like it or not, so we might as well figure out what’s it all about.

Think of Timeline as your digital diary, scrapbook, journal, memoir, album, chronicling your life events, or as much of your life as you want to expose . . . errrr, I mean post.

Early boomers will remember the television series, “This is Your Life” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Is_Your_Life      Think of Timeline as your version, as it can pull from your past, telling your life story.

General info about Timeline:

Instead, of the single-center column, you will see two columns: a large one, similar to what you see today, and a smaller column to the right for speedy navigating.

Any dated information you previously entered will appear on your Timeline: your birth date, graduation date, birth dates of your children, grandchildren, work history dates, etc. You can add photos and captions to photos, or remove anything you would rather delete from your life story.

When computers first entered our lives, a wise person said to me, “If you want something that will remain the same throughout your lifetime, buy a fork.”

So, you see four-letter words can be something we embrace.

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Stay tuned for the nuts and bolts of Timeline.  I’ll also cover: the “Activity Log”, cog / icon / badge, other stuff on the main page, “Life Event”, and . . .  PRIVACY tips.

photo by stoneysteiner

MUSIC Monday: Please sing me your autograph! – Part 1 of 3

Written by Daryl Allison          www.muzartworld.org

Bottom of the ninth…

Game 7, the season comes down to this…

5, game tied … 4, he pulls up at the 3-point line … 2, the ball is in the air…

Selected with the first pick of the draft…

We know these moments. We live for them. We’ve lived in them – at the edge of our seats, excitement, suspense. Some have waited years, even a lifetime, for events to converge into such a moment. We dream of them as children, for the chance to be the hero, to lead our team and fans to victory.

All this passion devoted to … a game.

Don’t get me wrong, I love sports. I was born with baseball in my veins. Now living in as devoted a college sports town as Austin, I could not resist succumbing to the enthralling energy that surrounds me. I bleed burnt orange like I never thought possible. This town lives and dies by its teams. We know to turn our sights to the UT campus clock tower each night. We may not know which big game was played that day – we don’t need to know! If it’s glowing orange then WE won; on that day WE are victorious, transcendent.

Imagine a world where, with all the energy we have wrapped in sports, we lavished an equal amount upon music; where music was the Super Bowl, not its halftime show. Sure, music has its celebrities. You can name a few of them as easily as you can name some sports stars. I’m not talking about the ranks of stardom. I’m talking about the inner workings of our families, our schools, our communities. Lucky for me, Austin is such a place, the “Live Music Capital of the World”. Musical expression is as revered as athletic accomplishment. Communities rally around its bands as much as its teams. Those same people find ways to give back, organizations holding free events for families to enjoy music and fundraisers to ensure education resists government budget cuts. We here in Austin are lucky, because we here in Austin do something about it.

How about for you and your community? Are you able to consider yourself as lucky? In your neighborhood how many TVs turn on to watch sports? How many families spend time, energy, resources to attend games? I’m sure you won’t struggle finding a household where the kids can pick up a ball and go throw in the backyard or at a park down the street. Those kids see their sports heroes on TV. They’re encouraged by their parents, their older siblings, their friends, and even the marketing of athletes on TV. Those kids imagine themselves coming to bat as the winning run; making that pass; taking that shot.

How many of those same kids listen to music?

Next Monday, Part 2

http://www.muzartworld.org/blog/2011/11/please-sing-me-your-autograph/

TIME . . . My New Year’s Resolution

Written by Rob Shinazy

Time.  What is it?

Time is one of the most precious things we have.  The universe is about 13.7 billion years old.  The earth is approximately 4 half-million years old.  Man lives on earth at best 100 years.

That makes time the most precious commodity there is, more than gold, silver, or the almighty dollar.  Without time, there's nothing.

2012 we have to invest in our time here on earth.  Looking at time as a commodity where you try to get the most return on your investment will keep us from wasting time.

Going into or being in a relationship is about time management; spending time with loved ones is one of the most important things there is.  No one ever said on their deathbed that they wished they spent more time at the office.  People always regret not spending time with family and friends.

So, for me 2012 is going to be about making the most of my time.  As we get older, we can either be a Bottled Of Wine that gets finer with age or That Loaf Of Bread that gets all moldy and dry’s up.

So, let's get off the couch, put down the remote, give your significant other a kiss, and let's get on with investing our time . . . wisely.

photo by Stela Blu