TOPICS FROM THE MIND

Sometimes we sit down to write at our appropriated time (if we are so lucky to be able to schedule such time)and cannot think of a thing to write. I know many so-called experts say we should just start typing, even if it is to say "I can't think of anything to write." I try to do something different.

Remember those notebooks I tell you to always have handy--a large one around the house and a small one in your purse, briefcase or backpack? You should have snippets in them: there should be notes on books, quotes, lines of dialolgue, beginnings of stories, anything that might be used one day to write about. Take one of those ideas and type it onto the screen, or write it at the top of a page. Write.

Maybe this snippet will elude to a flash of memory. You might write poetry, a short story, the beginnings of a novel, maybe even a personal essay. Anything can help you activate your writing, such as my memory of the scene out my kitchen window in a home in Bakersfield, California:

My favorite light comes in through my kitchen window during the spring mornings. The Chinaberry trees I planted as bare twigs have grown so tall they throw morning shade over the window, leaving no glare anymore.

The trees branches are long, the tiny leaves are lacy, and the shape of the tree is that of an umbrella. My husband thought I was a bit mad to pick these "sticks" out at the local Home Depot and plant three of them in a row on the east side of the house. I chose them for several reasons, one of which was the fact that they grew quickly and our new home was starving for anything to block out the hot San Joaquin Valley sun. Another reason was that these Chinaberry trees brought back childhood memories of shade made in that Texas yard where I had first found my love for capturing my life with words. And, in Texas, another name for the tree is an umbrella tree, which is what these trees in my yard looked like.

Beyond the tree I could see colorful beds of Sweet William, red and yellow cannas, pink and burgandy oleanders, yellow Carolina jasmine, sweet honeysuckle, and the white cups of the calla lilies. The soft morning light seemed to draw the color and scents into the room.

When the sun shifts to strike the stained glass and crystal suncatchers hanging in the kitchen window, and casts prisms of primary colors over the walls, countertops, and floors, I am so pleased that a season ago I chose to plant those twigs that became a shelter for birds, soft breezes, and childhood memories.