Celebrating

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Well hello there friends –

I am not about to beat around the bush on this one, no way, no how.  What do you think?  Do you like it? I hope so, because I really, really do.

After all of that writing about it, I decided that if I am a Writer (notice me embracing that capital W), I better start acting like one.  Step one, business cards.  Super duper lovely and ever-so-Colleen style business cards.  Many, many thanks to Marty of Bartleby’s Letterpress Emporium (how perfect that the shop shares the name, though certainly not the demeanor of one of my favorite literary figures, too).  Ever so kind, patient (if you hadn’t noticed, I am a bit fussy), and supportive, not to mention her phenomenal talent with a letterpress brought this girl to tears, even though I promised her I wouldn’t.  Not a bad promise to break, if one must, after all.  They turned out exactly how I imagined they would:  the heavy cotton, that beautiful texture, our our humble red roofed abode (drawn by me).  They are perfect.  By the by, if you live here in Stumptown and love fine paper goods, do pay her a visit.  Her printed cards are exquisite, really.  The shop is just a charming place to wander, too.

Okay, getting to the second step now, full speed ahead.  I will also be attending the Willamette Writers Conference in August where I hope to wow someone into representing me.  So, for the next month, I will be polishing  my manuscript, honing my elevator speech, typing up dazzling query letters, and generally believing that I can do this.  You know what the wonderful part is?  I am not afraid.  I am ready.  I am worthy.  I am talented.  I am a good writer and a terrific person.  Why wouldn’t someone want to represent me?  Okay, I just ventured into Jack Handey territory, but that’s okay too.  I am among friends!

So, a start.  I hope you will join me on my journey.

Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them — every day begin the task anew.

St. Francis de Sales

Happy Birthday Colleen, Chaz, and Alan!

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Goodness is the only investment that never fails.

Today is Earth Day.  Be good to yourself and the Earth.  You can’t go wrong.

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Here’s another hodgepodge post for you, starting with a terrific Danish film, Kinamand.  It follows Keld, a man who can best be described as being in a rut.  He’s a plumber who doesn’t show up for appointments and a man who doesn’t show up for his marriage.  Frustrated by his apathy, his wife leaves him, which leaves Keld to dine at the Chinese restaurant across the street every day.  As he makes his way through the menu, he forges a friendship with the owner, Feng.  After a pipe bursts and Keld completes the necessary repairs, Feng takes him into his confidence and asks Keld if he would consider taking money to marry his sister (very pro-forma) so she can stay in the country.  Initially, Keld refuses, but when his wife asks for a financial settlement under the terms of their divorce, he sees this as an easy solution to his problem.  The two marry and move in together to keep up appearances.  What starts as tense and very pro-forma develops into a tender relationship between a very oddly matched pair, with a few surprises along the way.  Subtle and beautiful.

I am also very jazzed about the Oscars this weekend – the admiring of the dresses on the red carpet, the speeches, and the hosts.  I think Alec and Steve (written like I am intimate with them, oh, my friends Alec and Steve!) will be a fine combination, so I am guaranteed to be sitting in front of the television for many hours Sunday afternoon and evening.  I’ve even got a ballot printed and ready to take notes.  Do you?

As well, Sunday is the second anniversary of Under a Red Roof.  Two years, fancy that!  Maybe we’ll have a little cocktail while watching the Oscars to celebrate.  Thanks for reading!

Hello friends!

I’ve made a few changes around here, as of late, and thought I’d share them with you.  First, and most obvious, the watercolors.  I’ve been wanting to get back to them for quite some time now but always found a reason not to, like sitting around on my duff (as my Grandpa used to tease me), watching senseless television (LOST is on tonight!), or surfing the web, looking at other people’s sketches.  This last one is the most silly, really.  I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent (on my duff) in front of the computer looking at other people’s creations then lost all motivation to make anything of my own.  What kind of sense does that make?  Exactly.  So, here we go.  I thought of making a pledge to post a photo of something I’ve painted at least once a week (even if it is a bit lopsided), but a tight knot of “accountability panic” formed in my belly.  I am not as evolved as I would like to think – so hopefully I will, but maybe I won’t.  Darn Geminis.

As for the other something new, I have taken a job with my naturopath.  I went in for my well woman exam about a month ago, and she asked if I would like to help out a couple days a week.  Not only was I extremely flattered that she asked, but really excited.  How wonderful to have the privilege of working in an environment about which I am very passionate and making a little money, too.  Something I haven’t done for three years!  As well, the hubster is happy that it will get me out of the house a bit more.  This may surprise you, especially since I am such a social gal here on the interwebs, but I am quite the loner, and interacting with others will save me a lot of one-sided conversations and needless worry in my head.  Truth be told, I often prefer being alone to the company of other people.  When I was a kid, I arranged the furniture in my room so I could be in it, with the door open (closed doors meant mischief to my mom – and with good reason – I’ll tell you below), yet hidden from view.  I would lie on the floor, thoroughly engrossed in a book, while eating dry cereal from a brown paper sack (there’s probably a deeper meaning to this last bit).  At those times, I would delight at being in a Little House on the Prairie, a Secret Garden, or with the Girls of Canby Hall for the whole of an afternoon.  I am not exaggerating when I say that was the height of splendor – still is, though I no longer need to hide.

Two stories that lead to no closed doors for Sohn children – my brothers and I, in some wild fit of boredom one summer afternoon after swim lessons, devised a game.  We tightly rolled our beach towels and put rubber bands at the ends, to keep them together.  Then, we blocked out any bit of light in their room, stuffing a pillow in the window and another towel under the crack of the door.  Once we had the desired amount of darkness, we chose one of us to be “it” and then blindfolded and whipped said person (all the while shouting wu-tang!) until they grasped the towel from the offender, and that person was it.  It was all fun and games until we broke the light fixture a second time and could no longer lie and say that we had no idea how it happened.

In another wild fit of boredom, we decided that my brother’s Little Tikes football toy box resembled a space ship.  One of us would get inside and the other two would smack things on the side (asteroids!), rock it violently back and forth (turbulence!), and spin it on the floor (a black hole!).  When we decided that this wasn’t enough, we sneaked a roll of duct tape and sealed the lid shut before pushing our brave astronaut down the stairs (crash landing!).  Here, we were, rather unfortunately, interrupted by my mom hearing the crash (she must have been out back hanging up the laundry?) and the duct tape being hidden somewhere.  Ahh, childhood.  It’s a wonder we made it out alive, being such geniuses and all.

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