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Full Moon Inspiration

I’ve written a lot lately, but what I am working on now is something I see myself actually publishing futuristically so I am resisting to post excerpts about it. I’ve a spur of inspiration and I’m attributing it the Full moon tonight. I love the feeling of a full moon, although I can’t always see it being in Oregon, boohoo. My inspiration is just in time too because I have to submit what I have of this story on Friday for my writing workshop, eek! Workshops sometimes give you rough feedback, but they mean well and it’s good to get 20+ reviews on your work. It lets you know if you’re accomplishing what you meant to with your writing. So if someone thinks you’re writing a thriller and it’s actually a family drama or romance… yeah it’s time to start over. haha. Anyways keep reading and writing people. I’m going to continue mine right now.🙂

Free Writing exercise, Little Doggie.

The Little Dog

Staring up in pure desperation, I drooped my head and stared up at her. That bowl of chicken is mine. The smell has is permanently lodged in my nose, I won’t ever get it out until I eat that chicken. If only I were a taller dog, like a great dane could I eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and smell it all forever! What else is there really? Oh, but I love my owner, she’s pretty and smells nice, and, but I really want that chicken and maybe I am starting to dislike her, but no she is so sweet and pretty. Standing up on my hind legs my nose barely reached the hand that was holding the food, with a small pout I fell back down and continued my ferocious glare of hunger. Yes, this will work eventually. I licked her legs, I turned around, and rolled over, but eating, eating, eating, is all she did. Then she put the bowl down. In frantic desperation I lunged at a chance to at least lick the last smear in the bottom, and then she walked away.

I was on her heels in an instant, continueing my mean glare she would eventually succumb to. I know, this is has worked before, but I just can’t remember, because that smell is just permeating my head. I will become the chicken at this rate. I can taste it even still. Then the bowl was on the counter… yes the unreachable, forever out of my grasps, that damned top of the counter. What dog could ever be that big? Oh yes, the great dane, but no not me, not a little… thing! Then the cat walked up behind me and said, “mew, mew, mew…. Mew, mew, mew.”

“Oh hello sweet heart, want a treat?” And she gave the cat treats! What about me!!! What about me!!! The cat ate her tasty treats and proceeded to jump on the counter, and stuck her disgusting head in My bowl. That was it. I had been concentrating on this bowl for nearly three walks long. She jumped down and my mouth just went and took a clear chunk out of her tail. The cat disappeared after that annoying screech, stupid animal. Then, there she was.

She stood over me with that enthralling presence, and all of sudden I could do nothing but shrink down to the ground with her finger in my face. I am a bad, bad dog. I lurked closer to the ground feeling that my whole existence was useless, lazy, fat, hungry, and nothing.

Some time later… I’m not sure when I went outside because I had to go. After we got in she looked down at me again and said “Good dog, here’s a treat!”

A treat!!! I ate it and it made me so happy. Then she wanted to curl up with me. I snuggled with her and fell asleep. What happened earlier that made me so mad?

An update on our slow going process for our senior grant writing project. As slow going as it is, it is still amazing fun to learn about the local Native American Community. I kind of feel guilty that I knew so little until this point, but there is a lot of information out there and I would never begin to think I’m even close to learning even a fraction of it all. But it’s fun trying.

womenforgrants

When looking for an appropriate funding source, it is important to know what type of organization you are writing the grant for, and to know the guidelines for each source you are considering. You may have one source that looks spot on, but then you discover it’s only meant for newly established organizations, only help certain states, or will not give to religious groups etc… There are always stipulations when asking for money for a good cause. So research is key in deciding the best funding source with the best possible chance for your organizations needs.

In our case it is a nonprofit that promotes education on health and wellness through media to Indigenous people and their youth of the Northwest. They have programs showing actually Native American Elders telling stories of old that were used to teach the youth life lessons in order to get bring them back to…

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This is another blog that me and my team mates from my senior capstone are doing. It will keep track of our grant writing experience with a non-profit called WISDOM/DOS, which I am very excited about! Yay.

womenforgrants

This is our official first post! My name is Jenny, and if you are reading this, you support the wellness of the Native American communities, especially those within the metro area of Portland, Oregon. We are 5 women in pursuit of a grant to help our local Native American community to obtain funding for the betterment of their/our community. I (Jenny) will be the main writer in this blog, but the information will come from four other women with unique contributions of their own and maybe sometimes their creative inspiration will take over and they’ll write as well! If you do not know much about this rich culture, the organization we chose to help is called Discovering Our Story, and their website is full of history and their many missions they’ve taken on for their people.   www.discoveringourstory.org 

Now that our process is successfully moving forward, I will be glad to share our process, thoughts and feelings, and whatever we learn that is worth sharing…

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The Footprint of the Bottle of Water you had to Have for Your Convenience.

I’m on a roll this week with my blog. It’s helping me procrastinate this awful assignment due tomorrow night in my technical writing class, eek!

I recently read an article by Monica Ellis, the CEO of Global Water Challenge (GWC). The link is below.

http://www.mnn.com/food/beverages/sponsor/in-the-age-of-water-companies-have-a-leading-role-to-play-in-water-security

Now, this isn’t the first I have heard of this problem. I have also read, Maude Barlow‘s Blue Covenant: The Global Water Crisis and the Coming Battle for the Right to Water. The world is treating our last few drinkable water resources as if they are commodities to capitalize. Major corporations are sucking away water from natural resources faster than it can be replenished for the simple fact that they have the money to buy it up and then resell it. So let’s put this in simpler terms so that people who are unaware of this can understand what this will mean to them in the future if it is not effecting them already.

Yes, water is reusable, but the resources around us, like the great lakes or springs in our Oregon mountains are literally being sucked out faster than rain can put it back. Plus we are also using most of our rain water to sustain people, not these resources. They are shrinking. The signs are just being swept under the rug. Wild fires in Cali, an extended drought in Texas, I believe t this day. Arizona is importing all their water for pete sakes! I know I’m preaching now, but people don’t just know this automatically and the information isn’t being pushed like it should be in the media. So I thought I’d promote awareness. I hope this opens even just a few eyes. That would make me happy.🙂

Defend our freedom to share (or why SOPA is a bad idea): Clay Shirky on TED.com

If you don’t anything about it, this is a great video to watch.

TED Blog

What does a bill like PIPA/SOPA mean to our shareable world? At the TED offices, Clay Shirky delivers a proper manifesto — a call to defend our freedom to create, discuss, link and share, rather than passively consume. (Recorded at the TED offices, January 2012, in New York. Duration: 13:59)

Watch Clay Shirky’s talk on TED.com, where you can download it, rate it, comment on it and find other talks and performances from our archive of 1,000+ TEDTalks.

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“STOP CENSORSHIP” Ribbon

So I’m not blacking out, because honestly no one depends on my blog for entertainment, but I put the ribbon in the corner of my blog, because I do support the SOPA and PIPA protest. I think it would be a disaster if either of these bills got passed. We have riots and protests going on in almost every city, I don’t want to see the populations reaction if this actually goes into effect.

http://www.g4tv.com/videos/56930/internet-goes-on-strike-against-sopa-aots-loops-in-reddits-ohanian/

The Green Revolution; One Small Step

It’s been a while, and I’ve had this on my mind for a long while so I’m going to share it and hope you take it for what it’s worth!

I have been addicted to videos on www.Ted.com. Specifically video’s that bring us closer to nature, so that maybe we won’t be so numb to the effects we are having on earth… our only home. After watching a few shows about the Universe and how the creation of a life on earth is an inexplicable miracle of the right circumstances coming to together at the right time, it helped put into perspective how much we take for granted.

This video is about a man who traveled the world with his wife, they settled in Bali and made a fortune selling Jewelry, sold the company, and decided to contribute locally in Bali with a school. Watch this video, and tell me that this doesn’t make you wonder if we were still educated in taking care of our community through farming, and using indigenous materials etc, that maybe we wouldn’t be so desperate to “find” ourselves. A common phrase used in the US, as if each individual has to carve out their own nook in the world alone, but we aren’t alone, and rarely do we get to where we ought to be alone. We have help by family and friends, so why do we resist community to be alone and only individualistic in our life pursuits.

 

http://www.ted.com/talks/john_hardy_my_green_school_dream.html

And, here is the link to the school and how to go about enrolling and visiting.

 

http://www.greenschool.org/

 

After Watching John Hardy’s Ted.com video to share his new sustainable school with the world, you can see that he and his wife Cynthia are the type of people who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. I too have this looming feeling, that even if I flush the toilet I am not doing enough, and that I need to do something, but I have yet to find my niche besides being a volunteer. I need to get on top of this year. For now I obsessively research sustainability and the ongoing problems with our world. Well I have a lot of other resources to share that are similar to this green school, but one at time. Until next time folks. J

 

 

Mrs. Dalloway’s, Lily Everit verses the World

Cover of "Mrs. Dalloway"

Cover of Mrs. Dalloway

Mrs. Dalloway’s Party: “The Introduction”

            We as readers are desperate for words with substance to perk up our idle minds. Virginia Woolf’s grasp on human train of thought is eerily realistic and fantastically done with her literary excellence. The voice is strong throughout the short stories that take us spiraling through the party within Mrs. Dalloway’s walls, inviting us into the mind of Woolf and her true feelings on the female oppression of her time. In particular, “The Introduction featuring the mind of Lily Everit and what seems to be the most horrific incident that has ever happened to her; to the rest of the party it’s a suitable introduction for a possible marriage. The following will attempt to convey how Woolf uses Lily’s frame of mind to enlighten the reader of the unfair culture a woman must live in and endure with wide eyes and a curved mouth.

Lily Everit, like Woolf is a writer and like many women takes an overly modest manner on her work. She frets feverishly over an essay her professor has dubbed “first rate,” but regardless of the compliment, the essay, and her choice to write essays over poetry begin to wear her confidence down progressively as Mrs. Dalloway leads her to a suitable bachelor, Bob Brinsley. Mr. Brinsley, a “direct descendent from Shakespeare” has Lily in a frenzy of worry (Woolf 31-37). The thoughts conveyed from Lily portray a young woman with an independent mind forced to hide her true nature inside her “chrysalis.” The delicate mold of the young lady she knows she ought to be is grieving work for her. In the following passage Lily manages to keep her lady like façade in tact as she approaches Mr. Brinsley.

“Perhaps that was the thing that came out, that remained, it was part of the dress, and all the little chivalries and respects of the drawing room; all made her feel that she had come out of her chrysalis and was being proclaimed what in the long comfortable darkness of childhood she had never been—this frail and beautiful creature, this limited and circumscribed creature who could not do what she liked, this butterfly with a thousand facets to its eyes, and delicate fine plumage, and difficulties and sensibilities and sadnesses innumerable: a woman.” (Woolf 33)

Lily has just entered womanhood, and could potentially marry quite soon after this very incident at Mrs. Dalloway’s party. It is not only her attempt to be what a woman should be, but it is the stress she associates with being one, all of which have contributed to the dreadfulness of meeting a potential suitor in order to marry. Lily as a writer knows she cannot fit the mold of this beautiful “butterfly” she is to become in order to be a woman—a wife—a “limited” creature. Her struggle to embrace her fate is consuming, and emotionally strenuous.

As Lily approaches Brinsely she begins to frantically rationalize how very unlike a woman she is, and reduces herself to the form of a fly verses the delicate butterfly. Brinsely, who Lily describes as an arrogant man ready to pounce on her and her work because of his link to Shakespeare, his higher education, and superiority has put her under his foot. The “fly” with no wings that Brinsely is silently ripping apart with his air of entitlement has Lily in a fright. She quickly inverts her natural self by “smothering down softly her sharp instinct” in order to please him, but it is clear her nerves have overtaken her (Woolf 35). She begins to watch him, in his “perfect” glory, rip the wings off of flies.

The fly metaphor may be that he is cruel to women who do not live up to the standards of his society, standards that oppress women and whittle them down to mere servants with meager lives. “But he talked; but he looked; but he laughed; he tore the wings off a fly” (Woolf 36). The words of a woman whose mind is in it’s own nightmare playing out right in front of her because of the simple fact that she see’s the iniquitousness of it all. All, meaning not only Mrs. Dalloway’s party, but of her existence, there for him to do as he like with it; she helpless to stop it with marriage as the main means of survival for a woman.

As the unfairness of her discovery descends to acceptance she ponders “that there are no sanctuaries, or butterflies, and this civilization, said Lily Everit to herself, as she accepted the kind compliments of old Mrs. Bromley on her appearance, depends upon me” (Woolf 37).

Lily Everit from that day forward will go on with her life, with an understanding that her life this way because she complies to it, and until others are willing to admit they feel as she does, she must go on with “the weight of the world upon her shoulders” (Woolf 37). One woman cannot fight alone, but as we already know, she won’t feel alone for much longer.

The Short Stories surrounding Mrs. Dalloway’s party by Virginia Woolf can be interpreted in many directions. I as a woman and feminist will never forget the story of Lily Everit and the few minutes that formed her opinion of her own society forever. I like to think she went on and married for love and not security, and the man she married treated her as an intellectual equal and they grew old and died together. The thought of Lily genuinely happy is a fixed image in my mind. It took Woolf seven pages to completely captivate me with her work. Woolf in my opinion holds women in her mind as magnificent beings capable of anything—I agree. Lily Everit’s story is a superb example of this.

Sources:

Prose, Francine and Virginia Woolf. The Mrs. Dalloway Reader. United States: Harcourt, 2003. Print.

Part 2—Victorian Underground

 

Part two, of my Victorian Underground. I’m not sure where it’s going yet, and I don’t like to put stories under genres because I don’t want to create any kind of expectations for the reader. Like most of my stories it may be getting away from me and becoming a longer endeavor than I meant it to be, but I’m going to go with my muse for this piece and resist cutting it down for now.

“Rosalie! What in hell are you runnin’ for?” a man said.

“OH! Y-you fucking son of a bitch you scared the shit out of me,” I said. I was breathing hard and fast while I was trying to convince my body and mind that I was in fact not going to be raped and murdered on my own stoop. Travis had been at the bar with some friends and I, and although we didn’t consider him in our inner circle, we enjoyed having him with us once in a while. As long as he didn’t bring along his little posse who I received more than my fare share of sexual harassment from. He was good at balancing his good looks with an all around nice guy air about him. I might even be interested in him, if the whole female population didn’t want to strip down for him. That wasn’t my idea of the perfect guy. I opted for the more natural rugged type, kind of dirty to keep away other gorgeous women. Talk about being self-conscious.

“Travis what are you doing here so late? I thought you took off to meet your girl?” I said

“Um, yeah I did. I went home and, well… she dumped me. I needed to get out, so I came here to see what you were up to, I brought ice cream? I come in peace, just looking for some company. Cigarette?” he said. He lit one for himself and handed me one. He sank down into my cushioned swing and took a deep drag of his cig. I figured I should cheer him up so I sank in next to him and lit up as well. I didn’t usually smoke when I wasn’t drinking. It’s a bad habit to covet.

“So how come you didn’t go to Benny’s, he’s your best friend isn’t he? Not that I’m not flattered you came here Travis, but we hardly know each other outside the bars. Except when we all come back to my place occasionally, ya know?” I said. I put out my cigarette in a coffee can I kept on the porch.

“Hah, yeah…. Well about Benny. The reason she broke up with me is because she’s been having an affair with him and now that Benny’s got that sweet new job, nothing was standing in their way now, blah-blah, dumb bitch. … I need new friends.” Travis looked down to the ground and grabbed the top of his head gripping his hair. To put it gently, the man was falling apart, I think I saw water in his eyes but he quickly sucked them back in not wanting to cry in front of me I suppose. I scooted closer to him and rubbed his shoulder for a few seconds, I didn’t want to get too friendly, but I felt sorry for him.

“Aw Travis, I’m so sorry. Ok let’s go in the kitchen and eat some of that ice cream, eh?” I asked him. I gave him my best cheer up smile. He finally turned up his eyes from the ground and gave me a half smirk. It was better than tears.

“Alright… Doll face,” he added.

We plunked down in my small cheap wooden table. He pulled out a Quart of Snickers ice cream, one of my personal favorites.
“Yum, you sure know what’s good,” I said. I winked at him while I went to grab the spoons in the drawer next to my fridge. I handed him one and kept the other for myself. He popped the top and set the tub of ice cream in the middle of the us. I raised my spoon and said, “cheers.” I didn’t mind eating out of the carton with him. I took my first bite.

I’d always been a girl not able to refuse someone, wanting to make them happy or in this case feel better. The fact that he was a good-looking somewhat older man was just a plus in my book. I wasn’t half bad myself, but I would never be anything less than humble about it.

“Oh my god, YUM, I didn’t realize how bad I had the drunken munchies. I must have scared my hunger away out there. Oh! By the way did you hear that noise outside on your way over here? It sounded kind of like a deep bell or something, I can’t place it, but I was about to go search for it down rosewood and then something made me jump, so I jetted home as fast as I could,” I said.

“No, I didn’t hear anything, but I did come from the opposite direction. I assume it’s stopped because we didn’t hear anything while we were talking on your porch,” he replied.

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