Plot Twist: Interesting Times Ahead!

Ovidia--every other Tuesday

I realise this is my--and our--last post of 2024. It's been a challenging year and the Unknown that we're stepping into looks more 'interesting' (as in 'May you live in interesting times') than hopeful.

After wrapping up the year's projects, I took a few days offline for a retreat with my old 'mentors' in the arts; revisting books (on paper) that were my guides and companions in the pre-social media days.
In particular, I revisited these four old friends.

Actually, I challenged myself that if I couldn't find two relevant lessons in a book, it would go to the library donation shelf...

(spoiler: they all stayed)

1. Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit
Along with Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, this book has fed me for years. And yes, I still do my Morning Pages!

Twyla Lesson 1:
'Find the spine' I need to apply this not just to what I write but everything I do. Too often I get lost in the middle of a project or practice because I've forgotten (or never figured out) why I'm working on it.
Twyla Lesson 2:
"Never have a favorite weapon" – a quote from Miyamoto Musashi. I know she's talking about practice and techniques, but I need to apply this one literally too!

2. Stephen Hough's Rough Ideas
A distinguished pianist and composer who's performed in Singapore several times, Hough’s notes and reflections are funny and relevant and always spark fascinating questions.

Stephen Hough Lesson 1:
'Is there too much music?'
He asks us to consider if we use music as disposable noise to cover embarrassing silences in our lives.
For me the question is; do I swallow too many words? Do I read to escape the discomfort of being around people instead of trying to see and understand them? Yes, I know I do.
Also, his warning that 'the constant nibblings on snacks spoils your appetite for the main dish' applies to my reading and scrolling as much as to synthetic elevator music. This question was partly what made me decide to try an abstenance fast from casual reading on social media etc for ten days.

Stephen Hough Lesson 2:
Don’t always set deadlines (something I always tend to do--I 'need' my deadlines and quotas because I'm afraid that without them I'll just scramble happily down rabbit holes—which is exactly what Stephen Hough suggests we do occasionally;
'Allow time to experiment, explore dead ends, and make mistakes'
Okay, I will try...

3. Stewart Gordon's Mastering The Art of Performance: A Primer for Musicians
This is an old book but still feels relevant. Sometimes I miss the adrenalin charge, energy and camaraderie of live stage performances, but as writers, our 'performances' on paper last well beyond the moment of creation--and they are 'performances' presented to readers.

Stewart Gordon Lesson 1:
Everything in life is preparation for the next performance--you are either preparing well or preparing badly.
This is even more true of writing!

Stewart Gordon Lesson 2:
To avoid getting stuck (or to get unstuck) take windows of time--from 5 minutes to an hour--to observe your thoughts and reflect on your current project.
And yes, I'm going to to try to remember to do that!

4. Jonathan Burrows' A Choreographer's Handbook
The final book was a gold mine for the untrained wannabe playwright I was when I found it. It showed me how to move beyond dialogue between talking heads to using the space between bodies to create their stories.
Jonathan Burrows Lesson 1:
"the audience wants to see something they haven't seen before, but they want to recognize it when they do."

This is so exactly what mystery genre readers (well me, at least) look for too, isn't it? And if it sounds impossible, his example of a newborn baby reminds me what to aim for when gestating every newborn book!

Jonathan Burrows Lesson 2:
It's the connections between dancers that make the magic. It reminds me every character is dancing their own storyline and I need to recognise their connection points--even if only with their past or future selves.


But there's also the larger question of why am I trying to write instead of freaking out at what's happening in the world today?
Because think about what happened in our world in 2024?

In Myanmar, almost 20,000 people died this year. Foreign domestic helpers I've spoken to here haven't been home for years, because their families tell them it's 'not safe' to come home.

We might feel the Arab-Israeli conflict has been going on forever (since 1948) but this year almost 30,000 people died--many of them men, women, children who've died without ever knowing what it's like not to live under threat of war.

In Ukraine, over 72,000 people died this year. And there's Burkina Faso, the JNIM-ISGS conflict, civil war in Sudan...

How can we live, oblivious, in a world where all this is going on?

But going mad would only add to the chaos, so do what you can to stay sane.
We may not be able to right every wrong, but we can start small. History suggests that's how most great things started!

Can you maybe start by making something in your own life a little better this year?

I'm afraid of 'just going with the flow' because knowing myself I'll likely end up mindlessly eating ice cream while scrolling media.
So... it's time for dreams, plans and schedules again...

I got these from the Jovial.Co at Bras Basah Complex.

No reason why propelling myself closer to the self I want to be shouldn't come with pretty stationery!

In 2025 I'll use these to schedule in regular reading time.

And I've always wished I'd not lost my school-learned Chinese and could read Chinese. So I'm going to try reading Liu Cixin's The Three-Body Problem this year (with the help of the Pleco dictionary app)!

I might not make it, but the books are here and I'm going to try!

And finally, I'd like to end with a kopitiam motto.

In Chinese the phrases on these cups says 'Know how you like to drink...' and 'Then drink that way,'

Here’s to Surviving 2025 Everyone!

May we all keep hoping, striving and smiling whatever these 'interesting times' throw our way!

ROMA2000: Celebrating the Millennium

We are closing in on New Year’s Eve here in Florence. I am busy getting ready for it. Here a look back, from exactly ten years ago, at a celebration that was years in the making. 

Fifteen years ago, I was on my way to Rome.

But this story started much earlier—when I was nine years old and in the fourth grade of Our Lady of Lourdes School in Paterson, New Jersey.   That was the year we began studying ancient history and learned for the first time the difference between BC and AD.  I was transfixed by the notion of the long flow of time.  I gazed out the window and wondered.  It was 1950.  In fifty years the digit that began the year would change from a “1” to a “2.”  How momentous!  Could it be that I would be alive when such an enormous thing happened?  If I lived that long, I would be about to turn fifty-nine.  My grandmother was nearly that old.  It could happen; I might live to see the year 2000.

As time went on, life brought a lot of other things to think about.  But every once in a while, the notion came to me again, mostly when another year ended.

Page one of the original communiqué.

Then, as we approached the New Year of 1995, I decided it was time to start planning a really great party.  David agreed.  That following January, I sent out a questionnaire to my entire Christmas card list.  It suggested a few possible venues.  Italy was one of them.  Lots of people liked the idea of the party.  A few suggested we all go hiking somewhere far from civilization, not one of my choices.  A number thought it would have to be a tropical place.  My suggestion that it be somewhere beautiful and Italian got the most votes.

Rosanne and me during the week in Rome

 

The event had a logo and stationery.

Best of all, that letter drew a very enthusiastic response from my dear friend Rosanne Martorella.  “Rome,” she said.  “Nowhere but the Eternal City will do.”   And she wanted to share the work.  It became our joint project over the next five years.  The tasks came in dribs and drabs at first.  Rounding up interested people.  Looking at possibilities.  But then the to-do lists intensified.  Through our contacts in Italy, we were able to reserve the Palazzo Lancelotti, a gorgeous private residence, aristocratic and perfectly situated between the Piazza Navona and Ponte S. Angelo.

The location.

The facade.

The Piano Nobile of the Palazzo Lancellotti.  The walls are painted to look this way.

Soon we were up to our necks in elaborate budgets, travel arrangements, opening Italian bank accounts, corresponding with all the potential guests.  In the end, 104 people signed up and attended, almost all Americans, but some English, French, and Italian friends as well.  Many of them also joined in a week of activities arranged by a friend who was a travel agent.  It included a swanky hotel stay, an audience with the Pope, lots of sight-seeing, and delicious meals.

Here is how we all looked on the big night:

The souvenir program and menu

 

I arrived early and inspected the premises.  They could not have been more lovely.

The Clark/King/Steen contingent.

The food was spectacular.

Lots of dancing to a band of Sicilian musicians who could play anything!

Two of my schoolmates were among the guests.

HAPPY NEW MILLENNIUM!

This is my favorite photo of the event.  My granddaughter Emma was 17 months old.
I love to imagine her thoughts when she looks at this image in the years to come.

Some events have lifetime significance.  This one occupied my imagination for decades before it happened.   The realization of that dream stands out for me and always will. 

Annamaria -  the Monday before 2015.  Happy New Year!

Auld Lang Syne Time is Upon Us Once Again!

 

Jeff—Saturday

Several years ago, a Mykonian lass who'd read my parody of "T'was the Night Before Christmas,"  suggested I take a crack at a similar treatment of "Auld Lang Syne," a New Year's Eve standard derived from a poem by perhaps the most famous Scot of all (other than our Caro)–Robert Burns (1759-1796). I see "Auld Lang Syne" as a paean of sorts to not forgetting old friends; somewhat of a downer subject as we all hope and pray for a far better new year for our world in 2025. 

But I went on to write the parody.

 

And I've come to realize over the years that what I wrote subliminally emerges as both uplifting and clear. I say that because last year I realized the question Ι posed in the first stanza is answered with optimism in the final line of each following stanza. Or so I think.:)

Robert Burns

 

Burns wrote the poem (here’s the original version) in 1787, set to the tune of a traditional folk tune (Roud #6294).  Its seminal phrase, “Auld Lang Syne,” is traditionally translated as “long, long ago” though “old long ago” is more literally correct (based upon my deep understanding of the Lowland Scots language) and is a song about love and friendship in times past. For those of us who believe in time travel, astral planes, and questionable sobriety, I should point out that the phrase “auld lang syne” has been used by other poets in their work, including one Allan Ramsay (1686-1757), which I guess gives our Caro and her Alan a claim to have beaten me to the punch (bowl).

The other Ramsay...also with another career, a wigmaker

Happy New Year, everyone—and please forgive me, Scotland.

Should odd acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should odd acquaintance be for not,
And made to toe the line?

As in odd.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

And surely you’ll pick yours to hug!
And surely I'll pick mine!
And we'll show a lot o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

We all have run about the hills
In search of flower wine;
And wandered many a weary foot,
But we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

We too have paddled up the stream,
In mourning, fun, and grind;
And seas between us broad have roar'd,
But we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

And here's a hand, my trusty friend!
And give a hand o' thine!
And we'll drink to kindness and good will,
For we’re all fine.

For all fond thine, I cheer,
For all fond mine,
We'll share a cup o' kindness yet,
For we’re all fine.

To get your head back in the holiday mood in case I misread the uplifting nature of my parody--and me hopefully back in the good graces of the Scots--here's the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards playing Auld Lang Syne accompanied by a journey to the timeless Scotland of Robert Burns' inspiration.

A Happy, Healthy, and Prosperous New Year to ALL!

—Jeff

Walls come tumbling down.

It is a thing in history that when a wall goes up, sooner or later it comes down.

Then another goes up. 

As a 15 year old,  I went on a class trip to Germany by bus. In those days, visiting West Berlin entailed driving across East Germany. Our teacher had us under strict instructions; do not laugh, do not speak, do not pass go, do not collect £200.

Both West and East German soldier/ border force came on board to check us all- spotty Glaswegians  wearing CND badges, Save the whale badges, Gay Right badges. You name it, we had a badge for it.

The West German guard was very stern, very disapproving of our badges,  very rude and abrupt.

The bus rolled into the no man's land between the crossings, then up to the East German border. The rumour was that we were going to be taken out and shot. That rumour was started by Sandy Miller who watched a lot of films.

The East German border security person was only a few years older than us. He was smiling, he tried out his English on us and had a bit of banter as we tried out our German on him.

He was very engaging.

He went off the bus, we were waved through to drive across East Germany, a mix of wasteland and factories I seem to remember.

The teacher,  Mr Cowie, stood up as the bus was driving along the dead straight motorway/autobahn, and asked us what we thought of our border crossing experience.

Of course we preferred the East German guy, as he was nice.

Mr Cowie then explained that we had just experience true propaganda. 

The crossing between the American sector of Berlin and East Germany as it is today.

This street was the main crossing point.

Maybe 200 yards before that is this mark on the pavement, all that's left of the wall.

Bus tours, Christmas trees, Tourists freely walking around.

An obvious point of protest against conflict.

The (in) famous 5 person bike- I snapped these 5 as they were a mixed bag of race and age all working to move in the same direction, and having a good time while doing it. A wistful thought.

The street looking into the American sector.

I have noticed a fondness for USSR and GDR memorabilia, in the most unlikely places.

I couldn't make up my mind if this was a very likely place or a very unlikely place.  

The strip of land between the check points is now a walk around site of history and memory.

This is a section of the wall.

We visited the wall when we were in Berlin, age 15, and I remember  the doors that had just been boarded up and cemented over, shop fronts, schools, all kinds of life petrified.

The division as it was back in the day.

The wall, with its dense graffiti.

And everywhere...Ronald MacDonald.

Starbucks is right at the Brandenburg Gate.

The division map is at the back of a small cafe within the walk round open air exhibition.

It sold Costa coffee.

Happy New Year when it comes.

May more walls fall down, than go up. 

Happy Boxing Day

Wendall -- every other Thursday

My husband is English, so he is thoroughly horrified that most Americans have to return to work on Boxing Day.

 

The Boxing Day of Christmas past.

In the UK, in many current or former Commonwealth countries, and in the opinion of said husband, December 26, Boxing Day (or the next day after Christmas that’s not a Sunday), is a sacred bank holiday. No working allowed.

 

Since Boxing Day is celebrated in Scotland, New Zealand, and Singapore, it’s quite familiar to several of my Murder is Everywhere compatriots, but for those of you, like myself, who didn’t grow up well-versed in the holiday, here’s a tiny bit of history.

 

Boxing Day, also known as St. Stephen’s Day, apparently has little to do with boxing, or the Boxer Rebellion (this was my misapprehension for years) although it is connected to many other sports—more on this below.

 

The tradition of giving gifts to the poor during this period dates back to the Middle Ages and the etymology may have begun with the idea of an alms box set out for charitable donations on the Feast of St. Stephen. Samuel Pepys discusses this tradition in a diary entry from 1663. 

 

 

The first time the actual term Boxing Day appeared, according to the OED, was in 1743. The tradition became much more codified during Queen Victoria’s reign—when the rich gave their servants, who had to work on Christmas Day, a box of gifts, gratuities, or leftover food and the “unrich” offered a “box” to anyone less fortunate.

 

Boxing Day traditions in the 20th and 21st century include fox hunting in white and red outfits, football games, and in Melbourne, a cricket match. 

 

 

The most common current tradition at the moment is, sadly, shopping.

 

So obviously not everyone has the day off. And the briefest of Google dives shows that those who work in stores on this bank holiday are only awarded extra pay if it is stipulated in their original contract. 

 

 

Of course, shopping is where those in the U.S. share in this holiday, since we have plenty of after Christmas sales, and mind boggling lines, shoving, and chaos at electronics stores, too.

 

 

Boxing Day has some significance for me, personally, since it’s anniversary of my second date with James. 

 

It also features in the finale of Cyd Redondo’s second adventure, Drowned Under, in the form of the Sydney to Hobart Yacht race, which is always held on the 26th.

 

 

If any of you are in need of post-holiday cheer, here’s a link to all of the Jeff Goldblum Curry’s PC World ads, my favorite xmas ads, ever: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4ktzkA9x3I

 

So, happy Boxing Day, however you choose to celebrate. I will not be fox hunting or shopping, but reading instead.

 

See you on the other side.

 

--Wendall