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Thursday, March 20, 2014

The Positive Side of Rejection?

Almost everyone faces rejection sometimes but I have a collection of rejection letters from the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s and the 2000’s! With the advent of computer submissions,--recent rejections are deleted faster than my spastic chihuahua runs across my average sized backyard—and that’s fast.

Where’s the melancholic despair that will lead me to write more angst filled poetry? How will I face the reality that other writers might numb away with drugs, caffeine and alcohol and I have drowned in large quantities of cheap chocolate? What happens to my embarrassment—the denial and insecure reminiscing? What about my recollections regarding why I even bothered sending pieces of my heart to editors who didn't appreciate my use of alliteration, metaphor and rhyme?

Should I have a wall of shame plastered with these painful letters or does common sense tell me I should move on and forget all about them? Would you incinerate or shred? Haul the file to the curb and say good-riddance? My inclination leans toward getting rid of them and yet they seem like an important part of my growth as a writer. Every ten years, I find myself holding a pile of these impersonal letters that reflect weakness but inspire me to reach even higher.

Remembering the past might keep us from repeating the same mistakes. This is why learning history is so important. These letters are like an old textbook--reminding me to learn, to reach a little higher and to do things differently, because the future is like a clean slate--full of opportunity.


The young writers of today may never have to face the quivering anticipation of an unopened rejection letter and of course, that is so freaking awesome. On the other hand, what do you think?
Are they missing some painful lessons?

Sunday, March 16, 2014

My Secret Obsessive Confession

I have a little Irish secret I've never told anyone. Well okay, I told the tile guy but he had no idea what I was talking about. ...You see I’m a huge fan of Maureen O’ Hara in all her movies but the way she acts in The Quiet Man with John Wayne reminds me of well—let’s just say it hits close to home. So anyway, my secret admission has to do with her Irish accent. I love her accent so much that when it comes to repeating the longest prayer in church I try using her inflections in my voice and mimicking my memory of her vowels and diphthongs. Crazy huh? Standing next to me is my tough guy who hasn't noticed either, and unless someone squeals, my secret is safe. Right? Stranger still... his favorite movie is How Green Was My Valley, also with Maureen O’ Hara.
 Do you think this is certifiable or just plain silly? Can you relate?  Do movies make us do things we shouldn't do? Am I a victim of some sort of retro Hollywood adorableness?


Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone!

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Harvesting Talent in Spring's Orchard

Dear patient followers: I have moved from the desert and when we unpacked our bags the cable company had trouble hooking up our internet. Once we unpacked the computer, it malfunctioned and we took it to a repair shop because the start button had been jammed by the movers. Thanks for not giving up on me. I wrote the following poem last night.

Harvest
By Eve Gaal

Forbidden fruit,
Art of desire--
Reach beyond what you see,
Stretch a bit higher.
Avoid the obvious
Easy branches--
Sweet but sticky
Immediate pleasure,
Instantaneously gratifying,
Low hung,
Possibly worm-infested,
Splashes of juice--
Filled pieces of heaven.

Take your time—

The sun-dappled ripeness will be worth it.
Stepladders, connections, mentors, prayers.
Lessons learned,
Sweaty secretions,
Long breaths.
Distress.
Wait for it.
Fill your cup,
And gallon jugs.
Practice getting it on tap...
...Thirst quenching flow....

But go....
Go.
Flex.
It’s attainable.
Rewarding.
Yes--higher.

To say it’s a faith thing makes it sound commonplace,
Perhaps trite and ordinary and it’s not.
This indelible unique moment,
Exceeds the average human’s grasp--
Where neatly trimmed,
Manicured orchards beckon,
Without taboos—
Or prohibitions because

Your talent is welcome.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Our Orchid Plant Comes Alive



Her arrival absolutely unexpected, surprising and grand.
 Green leaves had struggled inside a tight plastic container for years. Somehow we managed without her and yet now that we've met her, things may never be the same.

Recently, her relatives burst into our life.

Wearing spring green and red lipstick these girls are looking for a party!
A delicate profusion. So artful-so alive-so incredibly beautiful.
***********
Is nature communicating, sharing and spreading love?