Signs of Spring
Welcoming home the Monarch butterflies…
Baking (decorating, munching) Easter cookies….
Laughing at silly jokes, and mirroring each other’s smiles.
A sunshine-soaked afternoon with my little friend Sara.
joy
Reaching for the golden ring
Endangered Species Carousel, at Living Desert Zoo and Gardens
You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. You can’t get there by bus, only by hard work and risk and by not quite knowing what you’re doing, but what you’ll discover will be wonderful. What you’ll discover will be yourself. –Alan Alda
Giraffes are graceful animals, but don’t let their gentle demeanor fool you. Living as they do on the African savanna, they have no choice but to stick their necks out. How else to avoid potential predators, or to locate the next watering hole? No better way to reach the highest tree branches, where the tastiest morsels grow.
If a carousel animal can suggest a truth universal, maybe it’s this: The golden ring is available to those of us who are willing to stretch beyond our comfort zones, and to set our sights on the unknown. Danger lurks, but that’s a given, even for those who seek refuge in a merry-go-round existence.
If there’s a time when a person’s neck is most exposed, it’s when they’re writing memoir. It’s hard, sometimes, to trust the process. But oh, the treasures that make themselves known to us, when we prove ourselves willing to stretch beyond any preset notions or boundaries, and to bravely explore each memory for its underlying essence!
(Random though it might seem, this blog entry was inspired by a visit to “my” desert oasis this past weekend, where I reflected on next-steps for my memoir and pondered Alan Alda’s quote. And of course, long-time readers know already how fond I am of the Endangered Species Carousel.)
Present moment, wonderful moment
Breathing in, there is only this moment…
On Friday, Walela’s breathing was effortful…
Breathing out is a wonderful moment.
The first egg in her second clutch.
If we are not fully ourselves,
Two days later, Walela’s breathing is once again labored.
truly in the present moment…
We breathe as one in this moment.
We miss everything. –Thich Nhat Hahn
And now we are empty nesters
It was still dark this morning when I snicked the front door open. Just a sliver, mind you–I didn’t want to startle the remaining hatchling, but after two solid days of pounding rain and intermittent winds, I worried that she might be cold and wet. But there she was: cozy as could be inside her dry little nest. How wise Walela was, to have built their cushiony home under a roof overhang!
(This set of two pictures comes from yesterday’s photo session. I didn’t get pictures of Jennifer in the nest this morning.)
Whew, what a relief! With a steaming mug of vanilla-hazelnut coffee at my elbow, I posted a blog update, in which I predicted she’d fledge sometime today.
Not an hour later, my husband called me to the door. The nest was empty! I grabbed my camera and snapped a picture. Just one, inadequate though it might be, to honor the nest that served Walela and her brood so well.
I lowered my camera to my side, and stood silent for a few minutes longer. And here’s where the magic happened, as it so often does when we’re willing to stay in the moment…
Jennifer returned to the fuchsia plant and perched herself on the slimmest of branches! She must’ve sensed Walela’s whirring approach, because with one eye focused on me, she turned her head and opened her beak.
I didn’t capture the feeding itself, but seeing as how I’ve posted so many pictures and videos, here and on Facebook, I’ll bet you can easily imagine it in your mind’s eye by now.
A small part of me is sad, of course. Who wouldn’t be, after cheering them on, for days on end? But more so, I’m celebrating. It rarely happens that both hummingbird hatchlings survive from egg to fledge, so I’m thrilled to know that Sunshine and Jennifer beat the odds.
Say Amen, Somebody
Performing with a renowned gospel choir has always been near the very top of my bucket list. It’s one of those dandelion wishes that makes my heart sing, that speaks to my greatest joys & deepest fears.
Not that I fully expected it would ever happen, but I’m not one to discount any possibilities. I mean, miracles do happen..
Caught a flight at JFK with–oh happy day!–the @harlemgospel choir. pic.twitter.com/Mtf8Y0RsDp
— Melodye Shore (@MelodyeShore) March 2, 2013
Well…The Harlem Gospel Choir just posted this event to Facebook:
Looking forward to our workshop and concert @theccae California Center for the Arts in Escondido CA on Sunday Feb 15 at 7:30pm. #HarlemGospelChoir #theCaliforniaCenterForTheArts #escondido #Escondido #ESCONDIDOCA #SANDIEGO
And it just so happened that I saw it while scrolling through my news feed! So excuse me while I retreat to my fainting couch with a vial of smelling salts, because, oh happy day, I’m registered for an ensemble workshop with THE HARLEM GOSPEL CHOIR, y’all! And if that’s not enough of an anointing, lol, I’ll have an opportunity to sing with them at an evening performance!
A birthday gift for both of us
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding.
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as bird wings. —Rumi
We celebrated my friend Karin’s birthday last Friday by getting together at my house for lunch. “A rare fusion of fluff and majesty,” she’s a peony in my friendship garden.
One of the highlights of the afternoon: Seeing pure, unadulterated joy spread across Karin’s face as she climbed the ladder and peeked into Walela’s hummingbird nest.
And look! Walela took the spotlight in her evening wear, right after she left. Those iridescent feathers rival anything haute couture we might’ve seen at the Grammys last night. Agree?
For reasons unknown to us, the hatchling to the right of the screen didn’t make it. That’s Mother Nature’s doing, and the undoing of some who are fortunate enough to witness miracles like this as they unfold. Of course I’m sad–who wouldn’t be? But I’m comforted by the fact that there’s a greater power at work here, with wisdom beyond our own understanding.
Shadows sometimes fall when we least expect them. But sure as daylight follows night, “Joy cometh in the morning.” Want proof? This little guy just opened his peepers!
The Sweet Stuff of Life
The hummingbird is symbolic of joy—living on nectar and searching for the sweetness of life. —Jamie Sams
Walela forages for food more frequently now, to feed her growing babies. When she approaches the nest again, her tiny wings shimmer and stir the air. Sensing her presence, her hatchlings lift their heads and open their beaks.
Mama Hummingbirds feed her hatchlings anywhere from 4-6 times per hour, but it happens very quickly. Because I was standing on the porch at the just-right moment, I was able to captured their fast food dinner on video.
So tell me: Have you ever seen anything sweeter than this?
*The first hatchling was born on January 29th, and the second baby was born on January 31st. So they are 5 and 7 days old, respectively. (Earlier pictures here.)
Old Friends and New Traditions
Martha Stewart, I’m not, but I can turn out a plate of gingerbread cookies that taste pretty decent. Way better than they look. It was a cherished family tradition, in fact…until, that is, two adorable little boys grew into fine young men that ventured out into the world to build exciting lives for themselves and forge their own traditions. As kids are wont to do.
Sniff
I don’t begrudge my boys this birthright. Of course not, don’t be silly! We’re transitioning, too—in fact, this is our first Christmas in our new home! As always, our tree is decorated with family heirlooms, old and newer–delicate ornaments on the highest boughs because Toby’s made himself a cave among its lower branches.
I’ve also strung twinkling lights along the mantle. Hmmm, where to put my music boxes? I’m still pondering. Oh, and did I tell you? Earlier this week, I baked sugar cookies with my little friend Sara.
I’ve always used Betty Crocker’s recipe, but my sister Sheryll suggested I try this one, instead. Ho ho ho, I’m happy that she did! The cookies were tastier, and the dough was easier to work with. Anyway, let’s not bother ourselves with the how-to’s and what-fors, ingredient lists and steps involved in mixing…you can get all that from the link above, HGTV and the Food Network. We’ll just focus on the fun stuff, shall we? To wit: time spent with Sara.
We sandwiched the dough between two sheets of parchment paper and flattened it with a rolling pin until it formed a rectangle, 1/8” thick resembled the State of California—a topographical marvel that included high deserts and low plains, a rugged coastline, and fault lines that ran the length and breadth of the dough.
Next step: choosing the just-right cookie cutters from a motley collection of shapes. Yes, I got all misty-eyed when I retrieved from the cupboard these talismans of special holidays past. Dinosaurs, sharks, guitars, angels, teddy bears, unicorns, Santa Claus, hearts and stars and moons, oh my! And more! Sara untangled the giant heart from the rest and held it to her chest. (“This is for my Mommy.”) Sorry, saguaro cactus and Halloween cat. You didn’t make the cut.
Again and again, we dipped cookie molds into flour and pressed them into dough, twisting them ever so slightly before separating the shape from the surrounding scraps. Roll, press, return the scraps to the refrigerator for chilling and re-rolling.
Look! We’re getting the hang of it!
Before long, the hardwood floors were dusted with snowy-white flour, and the scent of fresh-baked cookies drifted from the cooling racks into the rest of the house.
Sara spread a thin thick layer of frosting (canned, I confess–don’t hate!), and then let loose with all of her creativity.
Sugar crystals, pearl candies, edible paint, sparkly red and green sprinkles…apply liberally, give the cookies a shake and then add more, pat everything into place, sprinkle an extra dash of glitter for good measure…no such thing as good enough!
Hours later, we collapsed on the sofa stood back to admire our handiwork. The kitchen was a mess—sparkles, sprinkles, and crumbs everywhere, but behold, this wondrous plate of cookies! Edible art, a feast for all senses.
There was a taste test, of course…
And everyone agreed…
Best cookies ever!
Yes, there were imperfections. Some cookies were soft in the middle; others were brittle to the point of being fragile. Dark or pale, broken or flawless, didn’t matter. This plate of cookies, this baking day…love made visible, all of it. I can’t think of a better gift this in the whole wide world, can you?
Here’s hoping the sweet memories of this day will hold a place in our mental scrapbooks, long after the very last cookie crumb gets eaten.
A Day of Mindfulness with Thích Nhất Hạnh
The mind can go in a thousand directions, but on this beautiful path, I walk in peace.”
Thích Nhất Hạnh
Thích Nhất Hạnh
The invitation went out on Facebook: A Day of Mindfulness, led by Thích Nhất Hạnh, will take place at the Ocean of Peace Meditation Hall at Deer Park Monastery in Escondido, California. I wasn’t feeling well, and my to-do list was long. But these kinds of opportunities don’t present themselves every day, so I cleared my calendar, downed some Tylenol and hit the road.
An early-bird by nature, I didn’t mind that I had to leave the house long before sunrise. I breathed deep the welcome silence, inhaled the salty mist along the Pacific Ocean until the GPS told me to turn inland. Black Tesla in my headlights, a rusted VW bus at my back bumper…I found myself in the midst of a miles-long caravan that inched its way up the narrow, steep road to the monastery.
I felt at ease among this diverse group of travelers: roughly 1400 smiling individuals, dressed in everything from yoga pants to monks’ robes, frayed cargo shorts to haute couture dresses. We sat elbow-to-elbow on folding chairs, knee-to-knee on meditation cushions. Latecomers huddled in the doorways or settled into the spillover areas that circled the rounded stucco building. The excitement was palpable, and multilingual. Headsets were made available for those who needed interpreters.
A gong sounded, and a hush fell over the crowd. A middle-aged monastic swept into the meditation hall, brown robes swishing as he walked. Young Brother—a reformed Catholic priest, formerly known as Father—led us through a sequence of acappella songs. Simple choruses with a shared message: mindfulness in every moment, precious gifts in every breath.
(I don’t have an actual transcript, so this next part is based on detailed notes and my best recollections.)
“Now that we’re all here,” said Little Brother, “we will walk together, up the hill. No talking, no thinking. Just breathing. Notice the flowers, the blue skies, the birds in flight. Enjoy the silence. Consider each step a gentle kiss for Mother Earth–an expression of gratitude for her gifts. Share this joyful experience with the animals and plants, and with each other. In…out…deep…slow. Breathe in the joy that comes of mindfulness.”
We hiked a dusty path together, following his instructions (to varying degrees) for about 45 minutes. Hipsters loped up the hill together, scrolling through text messages and snapping selfies. A grizzled couple veered from the trail, high-powered binoculars locked on a red-tail hawk that soared through the canyon. A toddler tugged on his mommy’s sleeve, just ahead of me. “Look, a lizard!” he squealed, oblivious to the yogini-Rastafarian-monk-absentminded professor pileup-in-progress right behind him. Me, I stayed in the moment as best I could, but I confess: my shoulders were quaking with surpressed giggles. And yes, I did stop now and again, to take in the view and snap some photos.
Just beyond the chalk-white Buddha statue—where the ground leveled out and the morning sun was slanted just so—I finally caught my first glimpse of Thích Nhất Hạnh. He was sitting cross-legged in the dust, wizened face haloed by a simple bamboo hat. Was he looking inward, or into the distance? I couldn’t tell.
Thích Nhất Hạnh. Zen Buddhist monk, prolific writer, social activist, a Nobel Peace Prize nominee who was exiled from his native Vietnam for more than 40 years. Martin Luther King Jr. called him “an apostle of peace and nonviolence.” His students call him “Thây,” the Vietnamese word for teacher.
He sat motionless for several long minutes, flanked on all sides by monastics in identical brown robes. I stood off to the side and behind the assembled crowd…sort of, sometimes. I snapped a few photos, jotted notes into my journal. Random thoughts popped into my head: Wonder how long we’re going to stand here, baking in this heat? Sheesh, that winged insect sure is pesky! Oh hey, is that a security guard, hovering over Thích Nhất Hạnh? Sweat beads rolled down my cheeks and pooled at my collar–partly because of the blazing hot sun, but mostly due to a persistent fever. Fever, chills, fever, chills; jacket off, jacket on. Again and again, I had to call myself back to mindfulness, because yes, I’m human like that.
Slowly, methodically…Thích brought his palms together at the center of his chest, bowed to the singing bowl in front of him, and then raised it to the level of his heart. After a brief pause, he tapped the bowl with a mallet, thus inviting it to sing. And when the last notes echoed over the canyon, he clasped hands with two children, and led us back down the hill. Breathing in…breathing out…feet of clay in dusty brown clogs, mindful of every step.
We rearranged ourselves in the meditation hall, so as to better accommodate the influx of newcomers. Thích sat cross-legged on a cushion at the altar, with a bemused smile on his face. A devotee fell to his knees in the doorway, prayerful hands extended toward his teacher, forehead kissing the wooden floor. Friends stepped over his prostrate form, fingering mala beads and chanting.Thích took a slow sip of water, and thus began his Dharma talk:Breathing in, I calm my body. Breathing out, I smile. Breathing in, we invite our ancestors to enjoy breathing with us. We inhale together, oxygen and thoughts. Our ancestors dwell in every cell of our bodies, and they enjoy breathing in with us. Together, we enjoy the exhale. Our smiles show the world that we are free spirits within our bodies.”
“We are in the habit of running,” he said, “running away from the moments that are brought to us by our ancestors. We are afraid of going home to ourselves and to the suffering. But you don’t need to run anymore. You’ve been running all your life. Walk instead like the Buddha, enjoying every step. Every step brings us home to the here and now; every step is healing. No matter how short or long the distance, you nourish yourself with every step. Stop thinking. Breathe and enjoy. Walk like a free person. Release all expectations. Touch Mother Earth…let her nurture you. Let her teach you to walk in joy.
The conversation turned serious, if only for a moment. “Be mindful of your sensory consumption,” Thích warned. “Everything is so accessible these days, but the messages are oftentimes toxic. This leads us to a state of anxiousness, fear and despair. Even with so many electronic devices, communication is more difficult now than ever before.”From deep in the bowels of a woman’s purse, a ringtone sounded. Her cell phone vibrated again and again, until the woman finally stepped outside to take the call. Thích’s eyes crinkled, and the corners of his mouth lifted–a smiling acknowledgment of this teachable moment.
Thích‘s Dharma Talk lasted roughly 90 minutes—a quiet unfurling of loosely stitched thoughts. He spoke quietly, in measured tones. Although their Buddhism-inspired messages are very similar, I’d say his speaking style is more subdued than that of the Dalai Lama, whom I especially appreciated for his burbling exuberance. He wasn’t judgmental; nothing he said was prescriptive. Just a kindly man, offering seeds of wisdom. I couldn’t help notice, however, that a handful of people took it upon themselves to stare pointedly at anything that violated their own, unspoken rules: whispered conversations, for instance, and restless children. At some point, the prostrate man rolled onto his side, fast asleep, and started snoring. Breathing in the humor…erupting in laughter. I stifled those giggles again, dodged the dagger eyes they aimed at both of us.
During a lull in the conversation, I leaned toward the woman next to me and asked if she perhaps had a couple of Tylenol. “Can’t seem to shake this fever,” I joked, “even with all this meditative breathing.” Well now! You would’ve thought I’d asked a vegan for a Big Mac. “Maybe,” she snapped, “you aren’t trying hard enough.”
“Suffering is the first awareness, Thích continued, “the first Noble Truth. The noblest aspiration is to help people to suffer less. Some of us do not know how to handle pain, and so we have a tendency to run away from ourselves and seek forgetfulness. [But] when we return to ourselves and recognize our own suffering, we can more easily understand the suffering in others. When that happens, it is very easy to feel compassion, and to help people come home to themselves.”
Home. This seems to me a good place at which to end this post. No, I didn’t summarize all the ideas that Thích shared with us that morning. Even if I had the transcripts at my elbow, I don’t think I could give them their due justice. Too, there was more to the group dynamics than I was able to see through my own, limited lens. But these are the memories that carry me back to that Day of Mindfulness at Deer Park Monastery. Memories of my arrival, of my homecoming. Breathing in those moments as I write this; smiling even now.
In the Author’s Tent: Jeanette Larson and Adrienne Yorinks
Longtime blog readers know a little about my obsessionfascination with hummingbirds. But you don’t have to be a bird enthusiast to fall head-over-heels in love with HUMMINGBIRDS: Fact and Folklore from the Americas (Charlesbridge, 2011). It’s an enchanting tapestry of facts and folklore, woven together with fabric art…a book that invites you to linger, and then return to again and again.
Here’s a handful of inside images, plus pictures of co-authors Jeanette Larson and Adrienne Yorinks:
As a special mid-week treat, I’ve invited Jeanette and Adrienne to a Q-and-A session in The Author’s Tent. The teakettle’s whistling, and we’re surrounded by comfy chairs…please join our conversation!
Oh, and before I forget: Charlesbridge is offering five (count ’em, 5!) copies of HUMMINGBIRDS as contest give-aways! (*Contest particulars below the cut, immediately following the interview.) If you already own this book, you can give your prize to a special friend. But then again, Mother’s Day is right around the corner…
Melodye: Let’s start by pretending, for just a minute, that we’re doing a live interview via Twitter. Jeanette, would you please tweet a 140-character summary of HUMMINGBIRD, followed by a second tweet that describes its audience?
Jeanette (JL): Facts about fascinating creatures found only in the Americas mixed with pourquoi tales from native cultures. Beautiful fabric art adds interest.
For “bird brains” of all ages and anyone who enjoys learning.
Some people think of hummingbirds as spiritual totems; still others admire their physical traits, including but not limited to their ephemoral beauty. Are you drawn to hummingbirds for any special reason(s)?
Jeanette Larson (JL): They are so tiny but so powerful, delicate yet strong and they fascinate me. I don’t know that I see them as spiritual totems, although I know several people who do think, or like to think, that hummingbirds are spiritual representations of a family member or loved one. At programs and signings these stories are some of the more poignant.
Adrienne Yorinks (AY): The first hummingbird I ever saw was in North Salem, New York. I was sitting on my deck after planting beautiful flowers and the hummingbird buzzed my face and sort of rested a minute on my shoulder. I had no idea what it was. I had never heard or seen any of them before and I was enchanted. I thought it was magical. The first thing I thought of was, “this is Tinkerbell.” It was a day that I remember so clearly because it was one of those moments in life where I was feeling a bit sad and reflective and the hummingbird came to me. I felt loved and protected in a way. I have always been drawn to animals. In a spiritual way, they have been my mentors, my loves, my best friends and protectors. A year before my encounter with the hummingbird, I was sitting outside in a different garden, reflecting, and a butterfly landed on my hand and gazed at me. It is a wonderful gift when an animal seeks you out. This has happened a lot in my life and it makes me happy.
Your book is unique in that it stitches together fact and folklore–in seamless fashion, I might add. J When it came time to select your materials, how did you decide what to keep and what to cut?
JL: I can’t talk about selecting fabric or deciding which illustrations to use, if that is what you mean by material J but we did have a lot more information than we could use. The editor handles some of the suggestions for cutting, asking us to omit information that provided details that were extensive or suggesting ways to condense the information. I’ve always felt that it is better to have too much than not enough as it is easier to take embellishments out, revise tighter, and such than it is to try and force in new information and material. In the process, we mix up the words so much that it becomes seamless between what Adrienne wrote and what I wrote. With the help of the editor, Randi Rivers, I hope we cut information that was repetitive and kept interesting and clear information.
AY: Cutting was very tough. I had a unique task because I was both the co-author as well as the illustrator. I know a lot of authors and illustrators can appreciate this quandary. There is a space issue always when doing a picture book. So I had to be a bit cold-hearted to the author part of me when I needed to cut 1,000 words. We had all edited and reedited so many times and then the word came down that 1,000 words had to go. At first I just closed up the document but then my illustrator hat appeared and I cut with gusto! The one part I wish we could have kept in was the factual part about how hummingbirds and flowers have coevolved. The concept of coevolution is so important and interesting to me but it was quite a large segment and I had to weigh the value of it in our book and realized I needed to cut it to make the book work as a whole.
Please describe some of the challenges you faced, from first inspiration to publication day.
JL: One of the biggest challenges was finding a subject we both felt passionate about, that would work well with Adrienne’s art, and that our editor wanted to buy. Then I think we had so many interesting facts that it was difficult to winnow out some to meet the word count. The other challenge, for me, was waiting. It took a long time from when the manuscript was submitted until the art director and book designer decided with Adrienne on the number of illustrations to include and other production factors. It’s hard to be patient!
AY: The one thing that comes to mind is the early loss of our editor Judy O’Malley. I had a wonderful meeting with her about the book. When she became ill, and had to stop working on our book, it was tough to regroup for a bit. Thankfully we had a wonderful team at Charlesbridge with Diane and Randi so that is a happy ending.
What can you tell us about your writing rituals and routines? What sparks your creativity, and what keeps you writing/illustrating when your confidence falters or inspiration doesn’t come?
JL: I don’t know that I have a writing routine. I get very excited by the research and start pulling together a lot of information. I do tend to procrastinate so have to really push myself to set deadlines. I get a lot of inspiration from friends and a very supportive group of writers in the Austin area. Of course I also get inspired by some of the wonderful books I receive every day. There are so many wonderful writers and illustrators! I do tend to write when the muse strikes me.
AY: When I am writing, I work on the computer as well as long-hand because I suppose I am more physical as a person and writing by hand is more satisfying to me. If I am having difficult day writing, I take all of my books and papers to the local library and hide somewhere where there is no interruption. I need a lot of external structure and quiet when I write because it is more difficult to me than illustrating.
When I illustrate, I listen to audio books. I like unabridged books because the longer the better, particularly if they are good. I love mysteries though listen to all sorts of things. My two dogs, Mabou (the border collie) and La Redda (the toy red poodle) are usually in the studio and are wonderful company as I work. I can work on illustrations for hours at a time, and it is not unusual for me to work nine hours in one work session. I also like to work at all times of the day and evening because my medium of fabric appears differently as the light changes and sometimes this inspires subtle changes that add to the depth of the work. Though my most productive starting time is morning after I go to the gym. I always go to the gym first thing in the morning. It helps me to think and concentrate for the rest of the day.
Jeanette, would you mind giving us a tour of your writing space?
JL: I work from home and have an office that is quite messy. I know that librarians are supposed to be very organized but my books are randomly shelved on very tall bookcases. I also have a book cart, just like in a library, to hold books that I am currently using for projects. One thing I love about my office is that I have two large floor to ceiling windows that look out on birdfeeders, trees, and flowers. The windows let in a lot of light, which is not good for photographs!
And Adrienne, would you be willing to show us around your art studio?
Sorry really messy at the moment…Just finished a large commission (on wall) and am prepping for school visits. This bookshelf [far right] holds all my “conversational prints” that I use for fabric packs for schools. I do a lot of school visits based on my book, Quilt of States, where kids get to do a fabric collage of their state….so I have lots of cow fabric, mountains, tomatoes, etc. on these shelves.
AY: I love thread!
Thanks for your thoughtful, detailed answers! And now, it’s time for our (in)famous LIGHTNING ROUND! A single word will do, but feel free to elaborate whenever you wish.
Wily Coyote or Roadrunner?
JL: Wily Coyote. Roadrunners prey on hummingbirds.
AY: This is so hard because even though I used to root for the Road Runner as a kid, and after all he is a BIRD, Wily Coyote reminds me a bit of Mabou, my beloved border collie and well I love them both…..
American Idol or GLEE?
JL: Glee. I think I do better as part of a team instead of in competition.
AY: I don’t know either of these. I am at a loss for tv….I just watch movies on television and these days, I watch them while I play bridge on my IPAD so I am not really concentrating on movies too much lately except if I go to the movie theatre. I have become obsessed with bridge.
Cannoli or Hummingbird Cake?
JL: Hummingbird cake (definitely hummingbird cake, unless I can have both)
AY: Hummingbird cake.
Violets or Bluebonnets…or a May basket of mixed flowers?
JL: Bluebonnets; I love seeing them each spring and they are a sign that it is wonderful to live in Texas.
AY: Gerber Daisies…….ok Violets but I love Gerber Daisies!
Wings or roots?
JL: Wings. I tend to be restless and want to travel.
AY: Wings! I danced when I was younger and there is nothing as wonderful as feeling like you are flying…just for a second, catching the air. I sometimes look at birds and wonder how it feels to have the freedom of flight.
I’d love to chat with you all day, but since that’s not possible, will you please answer one more question about HUMMINGBIRDS–one that that you haven’t yet been asked in other interviews?
JL: How did you research and write the pourquoi stories? I have always listened to stories and really loved setting myself the challenge to find multiple versions of the same or similar tales so that I could absorb the story and retell it in my own way. I used books, articles, and the Internet to find stories but sometimes had to fill in a few missing pieces from my knowledge of pourquoi stories about other creatures. My skills as a librarian and my undergraduate degree in anthropology came in handy for this part of the book.
AY: So, you mentioned coevolution, can you briefly describe that for us? I am so glad you asked that question! Coevolution is a specialized relationship between two very different species that benefits both species and is reflected in mutual evolution. In this case, we are speaking about flowers and hummingbirds. When hummingbirds drink nectar they are also pollinating the plants they encounter. Hummingbirds have terrific vision but not a great sense of smell so the plants that they have evolved with have lots of nectar, are very colorful with little smell and are tubular in shape to fit their unique bills. Two examples of the plants that have coevolved with hummingbirds are columbine and fuchsia. When the hummingbird hovers over the flower, the hummingbird’s head and back are dusted with pollen and the hummingbird transports the pollen to the next plant and the next plant and so on and so on. The bird and the plant are dependent on each other for survival. So we can thank hummingbirds again, for helping to create such beautiful flowers!
I would also like a brief bio for each of you…anything you want to say about your personal/professional lives, plus your contact information.
JL: I was raised in a military family so we traveled a lot, although not as much as many families did. I credit my parents with instilling in me a sense of adventure and a desire to keep learning about new things. After a childhood spent moving, I’ve pretty much put down roots in Texas although my husband and I moved to a new house 4 years ago. We put in hummingbird and butterfly plants and I have discovered a love of gardening I never knew I had. Once a librarian always a librarian, I say, but after 30 years of working in libraries I took my pension and now write and consult full time. I love the opportunities that publishing Hummingbirds has given me to travel and talk to others who are interested in birding. I continue to learn about these fascinating creatures.
For more about Jeanette Larson, visit www.jeanettelarson.com. You can follow her on Facebook and Twitter, or contact her via email at jeanette@jeanettelarson.com.
AY: My work takes its inspiration from three elements: color, fabric and content. Every facet of my work – large pieces, special memory quilt commissions, and book illustrations – stems from: color – in all its saturation; fabrics – every age, texture, ethnicity and provenance; and content – either the political or emotional impact that drives me.
[I have] written and illustrated several books, including The Last Will and Testament of an Extremely Distinguished Dog, Quilt of States, and The Alphabet Atlas. In my latest book, Hummingbirds: Facts and Folklore from the Americas, I hope to capture the beauty and spirit of the hummingbird through a myriad of fabric based work, from photo transfers to fabric collage using the glittering colors of hummingbirds to captivate my readers.
For more about Adrienne Yorinks, please visit her website: www.adrienneyorinks.com. You can also reach her by email at Adrienne@adrienneyorinks.com.
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