I get by with a little help from my friends

I've hurt my arm. The details are unimportant, and yes, it's healing. What is significant (for me, at least) is that it is my right arm, the lead hand in all my artwork. Typing can be done one-handed. No one takes off points for wiggly lines. Autocorrect can actually be helpful in fixing some errors (though it has made some extremely humorous changes a few time, of the sort that could get me on one of those "21 most hilarious autocorrect" lists had I not caught them.) But the kind of artwork I do, on egg or on a flat surface, takes a fairly steady hand. 

Even though the injured area is recovering, I realize there may be a day when recovery only goes so far. For most of my adult life, predating my pysanky writing, I've had compression of the ulnar and medial nerves on the right. Surgery wasn't recommended until I was out of my childbearing years, as the condition can reoccur with the changes of pregnancy. But, by the time I was "in the clear", I'd developed a pulmonary condition and was advised to not have elective surgeries, if at all possible. So I puddle along, hand pain rolling in and fading out. I have exercises I do daily, braces, therapies for exacerbations-- a full regime to call upon. The nerve trauma was flaring up when the injury happened, so this is a double whammy.

I've been thinking that should the time come when I can no longer hold a kistka in my right hand, I should start training the left. In other words, I want to become an ambidextrous pysanky writer. It's ambitious, I know, and there are many folks who can't master the art even with their dominant hand fully functional. But I want to try.

Yesterday, I started my first egg with my left hand. Got a few lines done, then pretty much wept, because I was so far from where I am on the right. I'm like a soprano with too much vibrato. But, I decided to post the picture to a pysanky group I am in. These folks are wonderful. Some, I've known for almost 20 years, and we've migrated to this group. Some I know only a few short months. A couple, I interacted with for the first time yesterday.  Since my post (above), encouragement, sympathy, suggestions, and humor have poured in. 

And that's not all. Some of these marvelous souls are taking up their kistkas, too, in their  non-dominant hand, to try and write a pysanka-- joining me on this weird one-hand-behind-my-back journey. I read that and teared up. I seemed to have gotten a little bit of fellowship in my eye.

Years ago, at a BookCrossing Convention here in Charleston, a friend I only knew from the internet, who'd just flown in from London, looked around the room at all the names she knew from our online group and said, "All my imaginary friends are real!" All mine seem to be real, and those who aren't sharing books with me, seem to be cheering me on as I learn to write again. Friends do indeed take you places you never thought you'd have the courage to go, and if you're very lucky, they travel the journey with you. Thank you incredible eggers of Incredible Eggs and of Instagram.

How BookCrossing made my day twice

One of my drawings somehow seems to have won a contest to be this year's International BookCrossing Day label design. Whoa! I'm stunned and surprised, and very honored. (And the girl in the picture is supposed to be my eldest granddaughter.) I did this more on a whim, not expecting to win, especially after I saw all the other great entries. Wow. Thank you to all who voted for my design.

Also today, I received a box of books today from a BookCrossing friend, who didn't know my friend Mike who died far too young and far too recently. But she used the remembrance label created by two Amys (Spedbug and bookczuk), and wrote this absolutely lovely journal entry in the book:

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/13175316/
I've passed it on to Mike's family and shared with some friends as well.

Mike

My friend Mike is gone. He would have said, "That's all, folks", but that doesn't jive with my beliefs, so, as I told him when he was alive, "let's agree to disagree." Nonetheless, though he's alive in my heart and memory, there is a Mike-sized hole in my heart. He's one of that handful of people I met online through BookCrossing who I've become genuine friends with, sharing the joys, sorrows, laughter, and concerns of life. We met in person a couple of times, most notably when he came from Wales to Berlin to see us when my health allowed me to travel overseas again. We know each other's families, (though while he has met one of my children, I only know his via internet as well.) It's only been a short time, but I miss his wit, his wisdom, even his overabundance of posts on Facbook. Damn it, Mike! I'm tired of cancer taking people I love.

I am not alone in adjusting to the loss of this big-hearted man.  People around the world are adjusting to his absence; others he met online with whom he developed relationships. A group came together to shower Mike with love (and tidbits and treats to make his journey easier) after he announced his diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. We've tried to help console each other, share memories, and of course support his beloved wife and son as they adjust to the new trajectory of their world. Donations to help  fight pancreatic cancer and support research have been made, trees planted in memory, even owls (a bird he admired) adopted in his name. Kiva and Deki have helped many people with loans made in Mike's honor. This is a man who continues to change the world and to to good, though he has popped off. Goodonya, Mike.

Over at BookCrossing, where we met, one of my closest friends and I came together and through our art tried to honor Mike (aka miketroll on some online sites). As many people are doing book releases in his memory, we created a book label in commemoration. The full color version is up in the BookCrossing Supply Store, two owl buddies, remembering Mike. We've also created a black and white version, for more limited budgets, at the grand cost of free, just like BookCrossing books are, when released. Feel free to download and use this label for releases, if you wish.

Art by Amy Francisconi and Amy Romanczuk (aka AFAR) honoring Mike Wiggett 

Mike, I really wish that we didn't need to do this. I'd much rather have you around. But, I truly believe that somewhere your soul is smiling at all the little things done to honor your time on Earth with us. I just wish we'd been allowed more of that precious commodity.

Defeating Darkness

Yesterday, I met with a couple of women who work for Darkness to Light, an amazing organization that is working to "empower people to prevent child sexual abuse." That's a huge and incredible mission, one that impacts the lives of so many people I know.

The reason we met was because of BookCrossing. D2L is seeking ways to get their message out into the community further, particularly during August, which is sort of their kick-off month each year for raising awareness and letting people know about resources and programs available. We had a great talk, in the courtyard of Kudu, and have come up with some ideas that might just work for them.

But the whole exercise got me thinking, which is a good thing, I suppose. I was not personally sexually abused, but two women, who I hold very dear, were, and by a perpetrator I actually knew when I was little. He was a man of contradictions, very gruff, but very devoted, and he scared the bejiggers out of me, enough so that I told my mother I didn't want to be alone with him.  I couldn't articulate why, but she seemed to understand, and told me that no one should ever have to be afraid to be with another person.

As I mulled over what I'd talked about with Liz and Sterling, an idea came to me.  We'd talked about ways to release books that had child sexual abuse as part of the story, to help raise awareness of the issue. D2L may be here in Charleston, but this organization has reached far beyond the local community, modifying  the advice to think globally; act locally. For them, local is global. They've got training sessions set up internationally to help raise awareness of the prevalence and consequences of child sexual abuse. My world, too, may be local, but thanks to the internet, I can easily and quickly communicate with friends and family thousands of miles away.

My idea, that is still being fine-tuned, is to create a book release challenge through BookCrossing, for members to release books that in some way reflect to the mission, purpose, or any way they can relate, of D2L. I would ask that each book have in a journal entry a blurb (which I could provide, with the assistance of D2L) and a link for further information. I think it could be an amazing challenge, promoting awareness of a cause that needs to be brought into the light, and totally extinguished.

Because, as Bumma said, no person should ever have to be afraid to be with someone else.

PS Today is the third anniversary of her passing. She is still with me, guiding, teaching, comforting, and making me smile.

Books, Bread, Bumma

I put the "book" part of bookczuk to use in many ways, either through my love of reading, embracing the joy of the feel of a book in hand, talking with others about literature, or through the simple art of bookcrossing -- sharing books by leaving them in a public place to be picked up and read by others, who then do likewise. 

Books wanting to become BookCrossing books often stumble into my path, eager to be set up with that all important BCID, the number that lets their journey be traced on www.bookcrossing.com as they travel the world. When books I have previously read come my way again, it is my habit to find my old reviews and enter them into the new copy as well, for half the joy of finding a book and coming to the site is to see where it has been and what others thought.

This morning, while registering some serendipitous finds, I came across Bread Alone, by Judi Hendricks. It had been sent by another BookCrosser, in a large box of books, to be donated to one of the local BookCrossing book exchange shelves.  From that copy, I found my review, and faithfully pasted it into the journal for the edition in my hands.
 
The best part about looking up this review, though, was seeing a review written by my darling mother, bumma, after she read the book in June of 2008. Bumma was the one who led me on the path of books. She taught me the golden rules of life: practice kindness, keep hope, a good cup of tea is a fine cure-all, always carry a book with you to help pass the long waits that life sometimes brings. She had an amazing spirit -- one that still is vibrant today, three years after her death.  And so, on this rainy June morning, as I sipped my tea, I read her thoughts on Bread Alone. (The caps and other typing idiosyncrasies are completely hers.)

Despite the fact that I picked this up from my daughter's hand and not at a BookCrossing Meeting or in the wild, I was glad to read it.

The backdrop of the bakery, its employees, its product were interesting to meet and follow.

Bread making IS exciting.
ONE OF THE DEAREST MEMORIES I HAVE IS MIXING THE INGREDIENTS FOR A LOAF OF BREAD IN FRONT OF MY SON'S THIRD GRADE CLASS, LETTING THEM SEE IT RISE, BAKNG IT AND SERVING THEM SLICES. IWOLD HAVE ENJOYED TRYING SOMEOF THE RECIPES INCLUDED.

My beloved mother died the following June.  Here it is, three Junes later, and we're still sharing a book and a cup of tea.