Painting With Light

Ready. Set. Go.

January 2, 2012

“Hopscotch” © R.L. Herron

I made a resolution (sort of) to write in my blog every day in the new year. Here it is the second day of 2012 and I’ve already failed.

I didn’t miss by much, but this is my first official blog post of the new year so my batting average has already dropped to .500. There’s absolutely no way now to bring it to 1.000.

Looking at a brand new year stretched out in front of you this way certainly makes it seem daunting.

Does that mean I’m abandoning the effort? Of course not. I can still shoot for a respectable finish. Like most other large projects, it often takes breaking it into pieces to make it seem less intimidating.

Even the most organized-seeming among us have moments when they try to see too far ahead. Moments the most well-educated guess of what’s-to-come misses the target entirely. What do you do when that happens?

If you’re good at what you do, you pick things up, toss the stone again and shoot for the next square down the line. Simple as that.

The goal may not move, but the path to it often does. In the world of business, or just the game of life, you need to learn that and play the game accordingly.

I’m getting ready to e-publish some of my creative work. I have been for months.

Yet, I’ve hesitated for weeks as I waged a war in my head over publishing it in that way instead of following some of the more “normal” publishing avenues.

Then it occurred to me. What’s normal any more?

I remember, not that long ago, when many people (myself included) declared digital photography would never replace film … but it did.

Even more recently, another ill-informed prognostication – electronic readers will never replace books – was on the tongue of many well-meaning mystics. I myself couldn’t see giving up any of my beloved hardcover tomes for an e-Book.

But I did.

Oh sure, I was reluctant at first. I was going to be away from home for six weeks and knew I could not carry enough reading material to keep me occupied, so I bought my first Kindle. To get me through this inconvenience, I told myself.

Then I discovered this new way of reading was every bit as satisfying, much more efficient and a damned sight more convenient. The signs are all there.

Libraries are hurting for funding (I do find that distressing). A major bookstore chain has folded. The largest bookseller on the planet is Amazon, and a significant percentage of the content they sell is digital. Who am I to say it ain’t ever gonna happen.

Particularly since it already has.

I need to quit procrastinating and get my stories and books online before the next wave of change, whatever it may be, rolls over us all and I have to start thinking about it all over again.

Posted in Branding, Lifestyle, Non-Fiction Writing, Photography | 2 Comments »

New Year…Again

December 30, 2011

“Patterns” © R.L. Herron

I’ve probably used this image before. It looks familiar, but so do my New Year resolutions.

When I looked at last year’s list to gather hints for this year, I realized most of my 2011 resolutions are not yet done.

Sigh. Did I really think they would be?

Well … yeah, I did. That’s why I made them.

Looks like I’ll have to make them again. I’m not sure why I keep doing this to myself. Is it because other people expect it, or because I do?

My lovely bride is after me again to shed some pounds. She’s even solicited help from my white-haired mother. Oh, she’ll deny it, but the two of them have a similar mantra.

Coincidence? I think not.

I have to admit, it’s a resolution I would enjoy keeping – except for the work and exercise part. And the forgoing of fried food. Or cookies and cake. And the occasional beer or other alcoholic beverage.

Then there’s my writing.

I did do a lot more of that in 2011. Not here, of course. But I did it. One of my poems “Woodland Avenue” was actually published in a respected online journal, Slow Trains.

I have almost 67,000 words written on my novel. Another 10-15 thousand or so and I’ll be ready to edit. I also have a collection of short stories that is now up to 36,000 words.

Nothing published yet, so that’s still a to do.

I’ve submitted poetry and short stories to about a dozen venues this year. Nothing accepted yet, so I have to re-submit elsewhere in 2012. Plus, I participate in an online writer’s forum every day.

Seems like a lot. So why doesn’t it feel satisfying?

Oh, I attended the Rochester Writer’s Forum again this year, so I can check that one off. Why are you smiling?

Almost forgot, I traced my family lineage back to 1617 in Ireland (I always thought before I was German). My first paternal ancestor landed in Virginia, in 1635. That’s pretty cool, isn’t it?

I meant to do some traveling, and I have. We spent about 11-12 weeks of this year in Florida, with the grandkids. Maybe next year we’ll go somewhere just for the two of us.

There was also something I know I said about avoiding political commentary. It’s hard in such an overtly political climate.

I’ve managed to keep most of my friends, so I must be doing all right on that score.

Then again, maybe not. There’s a group of us who said we’d meet for lunch once every quarter, and we’ve only met twice. I don’t see us getting in the other two meetings tomorrow.

So, for 2012, I guess I’ll just polish off last year’s list (changing all the 2011 headings to 2012, of course), and try it all again.

Maybe next year I’ll find a publisher, or at least gather enough cohonies to e-publish something myself. Maybe next year I’ll avoid political disagreements altogether (I can already see this one failing).

Perhaps I’ll even do a little traveling and get together with all my old friends. Next year. Why does that sound so damn familiar?

Maybe I’ll finally get around to my original “Blog365” idea, with a short piece of writing every day.

Whoa…wait a minute. Next year is a leap year. There’s 366 days in it. Damn. There goes that idea, too.

Take care, my friends. Happy New Year.

Posted in Branding, Non-Fiction Writing, Storytelling | 2 Comments »

Good People

September 27, 2011

I’ve done quite a bit of traveling in the past month. I did a little more last weekend for an unfortunate event, the funeral of one of my favorite people: Lowell Dean Allison.

He was only ten years older than I am, an age I consider far too young to have passed away (the older I get, the younger such an age seems to be).

Regardless of his age, by virtue of marrying my father’s baby sister, he will always be in my memory as “Uncle Dean.”

He lived 600 miles away and I wish I could say we saw each other frequently, but every ten or fifteen years hardly counts as frequent. Still, at least in recent years, we did converse via email a lot more often.

During his funeral I discovered, quite by accident, that he enjoyed reading this blog. He thought I had a way with words and he read each new post aloud to my Aunt, who has severely restricted eyesight. I find that to be one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received.

Most people knew Dean as polite and subdued. They also understood that, after a life as a salesman, he was also a talker, with a sly sense of humor.

I think you get a sense of his impishness in the picture above. It’s one that I took of him in 1968.

Dean was as close to the model of a real gentleman as anyone I have ever known. Oh, he could be stubborn, all right, that is very true.

But he was steadfast in his beliefs without being offensive. He might state his position and defend it with resolve, but he would listen politely to yours, without rancor.

He would have been a great politician in another era; back when elected officials still had enough civility to respect viewpoints that disagreed.

I know, because I was not always on the same page, politically, with him. He was far more conservative than I will ever be. But our disagreements were as low-key as disagreements ever get, because I respected him as a person.

I like to think he felt the same way about me.

His family meant everything to him. You could see it in his eyes when he spoke about them. He loved his wife, and the two of them have an enviable legacy. His daughters, my cousins, are delightful, loving people. His son-in-law seems cut out of a similar mold.

His grandchildren are pious, respectful and intelligent; the kind of kids any parent or grandparent would be delighted to acknowledge. They are all quite a testament to the man he was.

He was generous and helpful to his friends and neighbors, and they turned out en masse for his funeral. I overheard one of the many mourners say, “Dean was good people.” It seems he was a marvelous role model not only to his family, but to his community, as well.

His only failing, as far as I can tell, was to leave us all far too soon.

Rest in peace, Uncle Dean.