This image of the character Codex from The Guild will be appearing on the Season 2 DVD. Also, there is some more exciting news concerning The Guild at this [link]
Morgan Elizabeth Adams was born 6:55pm on March 31. She weighed 7 pounds 10 ounces and measured 21 inches long. We induced labor because of our long commute to the hospital, but it turned out to be a good thing as there were some issues that popped up and have kept me in the hospital a lot longer than anticipated.
Morgan is a cuddly, sweet, and healthy baby, who already has tons of personality. I'm absolutely in love with her. She really is wonderful, and it's nice to finally have her home.
As I am scheduled to induce labor on March 31st, my presence at the faire is a bit unpredictable for the time being. New babies do that. However my art will be there for purchase along with Lady Panisda's fairy houses.
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For the most part, any other shows for 2009 have not been scheduled. Hopefully things will be ironed out soon, but until the baby gets here a lot of things are up in the air.
This was something that Alana Abbott, a very talented writer friend, posted and I thought that it would be something that would be interesting to the other creative people out there...
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Every so often, when I am frustrated with my craft or melancholy or simply in need of encouragement, I turn to Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet. Given my post of yesterday, I felt it particularly pertinent to reflect on Rilke's advice on what it means to be a writer, and his feeling that solitude is a vital part of the writing life.
Letters to a Young Poet was one of the required books in my first creative writing class, and I think that it is still one of the best books on writing that I have read, even if I may seek out a different style of the writing life than Rilke embraced. His writing is utterly spiritual, and his understanding of the divine quite nontraditional, which becomes more clear in The Book of Hours: Love Poems to God. If you haven't read much Rilke, I highly recommend him overall--and the Letters excerpted here in particular.
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You ask whether your verses are any good. You ask me. You have asked others before this. You send them to magazines. You compare them with other poems, and you are upset when certain editors reject your work. Now (since you have said you want my advice) I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise you or help you--no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heard; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of the night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse. Then come close to Nature. Then, as if no one had ever tried before, try to say what you see and feel and love and lose. ... Write about what your everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty--describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember. If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is no poverty and no poor, indifferent place. ... And if out of this turning-within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not. ... A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it.