Tag: creativity

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Creative Life

Writing in Public

On the state park trail on Dec. 6, 2025.

This post is about social media and blogging. My perspective on these two technology tools is they both require a creative process of putting together meaningful words and photographs in a way that provides insight to readers. When I use them, I am a content creator, although those two words don’t really capture my vision for what I’m doing. I seek to bring understanding to the complex and ever changing world in which we live.

I joined Facebook March 20, 2008 to follow our child. They had graduated college and moved to Colorado in 2007. While I could easily drive in a single day to visit, it was a long trip to spend much time together. My reaction to Facebook? Yikes! Here is my blog post about joining:

Tonight I joined Facebook. Yikes! Facebook connects us to people we have not thought of in years. In some cases we haven’t made contact in over a quarter of a century. All within a couple of hours. From moment to moment, the number of “friends” builds. What to say on the site? What elements to show? What pictures to place? How much time to spend? When a friend accepts the invitation, it feels good. The wave has broken, now I’ll ride it in. (On Facebook, Big Grove News, March 20, 2008)

In the end, our child quit posting on Facebook and while I developed a Facebook life, it was not good for me. Social media introduced loneliness in my days, something with which I had little experience. It reinforced loneliness. As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I am aware of being alone yet don’t experience much loneliness. I feel connected to the whole of society. If I continued with Facebook, even with all of the familiar faces and common experiences, I would feel how much apart we are. I deactivated my account in February this year.

After much experimentation, I ended up with an account on BlueSky, which is a text-based social media platform where it is easy to connect with like-minded people. My posts there have been hit or miss, yet I need the creative outlet. BlueSky is my only social media account.

My first blog post was on Nov. 10, 2007. I first titled the blog Big Grove News, then Big Grove Garden, Walking There, On Our Own, and now Journey Home. The purpose was always the same: provide an outlet for creative expression and pull in pieces I wrote for other purposes to make a record of them.

When I began blogging I had no idea where it would go. I wrote at least 5,600 posts since beginning. For a long time, it was the only writing I did each day. It has become a writer’s workshop to test ideas and how to express them. Some days the posts are cringe worthy. Some days I touch the sky. Part of me would return to handwriting paper journals the way I did before 2007. I may yet do that, but not in 2026.

In writing my autobiography I find I repeat topics often. For example, the story of the apartment in yesterday’s post has been written and re-written with different details and posted on my blog at least a dozen times. An early reader of my autobiography commented about my propensity to repeat myself. All I can say is I’m working on that.

I used to write blog posts in the early morning. Lately, especially since I began learning about circadian rhythms and tuning my physiological life to them, my best creative time is in the afternoon work blocks. I still work on creative writing in the morning but it is more the next chapter of my autobiography until that work is finished. I am more alert when I write blog posts. The quality of writing seems better. Like everything, it is a work in progress.

People do read my blogs. It is hard to believe the number of people in real life who identify me as a writer. A lot of this is due to letters to the editor and posts on Blog for Iowa. That type of feedback is rare and precious to me. It helps me feel like part of a community.

Is there a limit to the creative expression I put into my writing? If I have to get a job to make up for the percent of Social Security that will be absent after the trust fund runs out, there will be a loss of time for writing. For now, though, I’ll continue on.

Categories
Writing

Memorable Posts of 2025

Booklet filled with automatic writing, September 1990.

2025 has been a decent year for my writing. I added 26,000 words to my autobiography, posted 20 times on Blog for Iowa, and produced more than 300 posts here, including cross posting my letters to the editor. It’s hard to digest everything, especially when I’m in the middle of writing more. This post is some links to posts I believe are significant.

On January 5, I wrote Right to Repair. This post starts with a high school friend and hot rodder who was building his own car to ride the ones in Davenport. It includes my maternal grandmother repairing her stove, and ends with her parents and grand parents settling land bought from the railroad in the late 1800s. Can we get back to a situation where people know how everything in their home works and repair it themselves? This post explores that idea.

If It’s About Workforce was posted on January 7. It’s about the Iowa Legislature restructuring the regents universities to purge diversity, equity and inclusion programs in education. Among the things they did was eliminate the American Studies Program from which I have a degree. There was talk about improving the workforce, yet I don’t believe higher education is about placing people in work. I also have a modest proposal.

2025 is a year I gave increased attention to photography. On July 24, I posted A Life of Photos, which serves as my introductory process. There was a time when popular photography was used primarily in two ways: it recorded memorable “moments,” and it provided a method and technology for creative expression. A third purpose has come into being and the series that began with this post explores what that is.

My 55th high school class reunion took place in September. Afterward, I posted In the Shadow of Hotel Black Hawk on September 28. This year’s reunion was better than others I attended in that by eliminating any formal program, the planning committee furnished a venue for classmates to socialize. I found the format refreshing and actually had a number of memorable conversations. This post remembers some of them.

Are people mixers or layerers? Eating Alone — Mac and Cheese, posted on November. 10, explores the difference and in doing so created a repeatable main course dish head and shoulders above the dozens of available boxed mac and cheese meals. I have become a layerer.

When I worked at the oil company I had no idea what was behind their big move to consolidate records in Oklahoma. Time to Change Hats, posted November 12, is about that and more. I wrote, “With increased visibility of my history, I should be a better family member, citizen, and writer. It should be easier to navigate through the stuff of memories.” I’m not yet on a single platform with visibility, yet that’s where I am heading. That’s what makes this post significant.

These posts only scratch the surface of my writing. I appreciate everyone who follows along here.

Categories
Creative Life

Favorite Photos of 2025

Sunrise on the state park trail — January 2025.

Here are my current favorite photos from the thousands taken in 2025.

Ice on the lake — February 2025.
Chili and cornbread — March 2025.
Time to start seeds — April 2025.
Spring brush fire — May 2025.
No Kings Day demonstration in Mount Vernon, Iowa –June 2025.
Zestar! apples were first harvested — July 2025.
Garlic was late getting out of the ground — August 2025.
Pears were special this year — September 2025.
Red Delicious apples — October 2025.
Foggy sunrise — November 2025.
Moon set on March 14, 2025.
Categories
Creative Life

Fall Photos

Pelican migration.

This week was all about the shift to autumn—putting up hot peppers, processing apples, and getting ready for winter. Add a high school class reunion on Sept. 25, and it’s already been a busy season. Here are some of the best recent shots.

Bur Oak acorns.
Gnarly apples make the best vinegar.
Moon setting at dawn.
The cayenne peppers keep coming from the garden. I dehydrate them, whiz them in the food mill and put them in jars for the kitchen and for gifting.
Part of apple sorting is putting the low grade ones in a pile for wildlife. By spring they will be gone.
Mist rising from the lake surface as overnight temperatures got into the 40s.
Making apple cider vinegar dominated my work periods this week.
Wild turkeys… likely aware hunting season is upon us.
A high school classmate took this photo of the venue for our class reunion. That’s the Rock Island Arsenal bridge over the Mississippi River in the background.
Sunrise on the state park trail.
Categories
Creative Life

A Life of Photos – Part VII

Mount Rushmore on July 17, 2010. Photo by the author.

How does a photographer capture well-known sites? I would argue professional photographers whose work appears on post cards serve a useful function in capturing a personal experience.

This photograph of Mount Rushmore was created in part by my being there. Composition of the resulting image is due largely to the design of the visitors center which presented a platform from which I took it. The light is good and the talus provides context. However, picking up a postcard at the gift shop eliminates variations inherent in converting a digital image to a print. If you stick to selecting familiar images, postcards can be interchangeable with printed photos in terms of remembering the experience. I submit having both types of image upgrades the experience.

The advent of the “bucket list” likely ended a lot of meaningful photography. If Mount Rushmore were on my bucket list, I might have stepped in front of the camera to record myself with the famous sculpture. Maybe at home I would have a bulletin board where I pinned all my bucket list photographs. People are free to do what they want, but for me, the memory of that moment’s experience is what stands out more than a trophy photograph hanging on a wall or uploaded to a website.

Defining who we are in the context of our lives, and who we want to be matters more than an arbitrary list of places we seek to visit. Above all, it is about the experience. A personal photograph or postcard is a subset of what that experience is. Photos are not necessarily the most important part of it.

What was this experience about? My friend since seventh grade and I left our spouses behind and made a long road trip out west. The furthest point was Missoula, Montana where we visited another high school friend and their spouse. Mount Rushmore was one of the less interesting stops we made. We were so close to it we felt obliged to stop, so we did. It was tacked on to an experience about something else.

I am a bit old school in that I don’t see much purpose to video recording a well-know site. My aunt, uncle, and their family lived in Europe for a number of years. They took home movies on 8 millimeter film when they traveled. I recall one where they visited the leaning tower of Pisa and recorded the kids trying to push it the rest of the way over. It was a family joke, and that’s fine. I hope they bought a postcard to remember the architecture while they were at it, even if that wasn’t their interest. Life is not always a joke.

I had only one photograph in my memoir, An Iowa Life. However, I looked at a lot of them while writing it. A photograph invokes living memories and it was those memories that drove my writing. I expect to return to this image of Mount Rushmore when I get into the post-analog part of my life. For that purpose, it won’t matter if an image was one I took or a postcard. That’s as it should be.

Categories
Creative Life

A Life of Photos – Part VI

Road sign in France, 1979.

It felt like progress as I went through the prints laid out on a table from one shoe box of photographs. I bought some 4.25 x 6.25-inch brown envelopes into which I duly sorted the prints and labeled with the contents. Since prints are scattered all over the house, this should make it a). easier to find a home for loose ones, and b). enable whoever inherits the collection to move quickly through them with a clue as to what they are about. I even managed to pick a few to shred because the images were repetitive or hard for me to know what they were. There were six of those. That’s not many given the scope of the project yet it was a big, personal step. I ran right over to the shredder so there would be no going back.

The photo above was taken when in 1979, friends with whom I worked at a department store in high school visited me in Mainz, Germany. They had married while I was overseas. We drove a rental car around France, stopping whenever and wherever it suited us. We visited a number of cathedrals, including Reims and Amiens, as well as Normandy, Mont-Saint-Michel, Belle-Île-en-Mer, Bordeaux, San Sebastián, Lourdes, Carcassone, and then traveled along the Mediterranean coast to Italy. We crossed the Swiss Alps from Italy and headed back home to Mainz. The two weeks were filled completely and passed quickly.

Hard to say where this sign was located. Somewhere on the Mediterranean Coast. The places we went on the coast were not very touristy. That was one of the ideas that energized the trip. We found our own path and the trip was better for it. We went places where an American Visa card was a novelty and the clerk had to contact someone to make sure it was legit.

I shot two or three rolls of film on my Minolta SRT-101 camera. The highlight of the trip was in Saint-Paul-de-Vence where we overnighted in a small hotel. The artist Joan Miró was in residence at the nearby Fondation Maeght where he was making a film for French television. It was interesting to see the director coaching the artist about how to move for the camera. We toured the gallery and bought posters of the show to remember it by. I framed and still have mine. Alas, no photos of the artist as it wasn’t allowed.

As an organizing principle, putting photos taken on a specific trip together is conventional. None of them found their way into an album, although the makings of one was there. In retrospect, It is hard to believe I could get two weeks away from work as a military officer. Images like this one help me remember how close I was to my small group of high school friends. Isn’t that one of the purposes of photography?

~ Read all the posts in this series by clicking here.

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Creative Life

A Life of Photos

First digital photograph.

Our small family gathered around my writing table as I displayed a PowerPoint slide show of images downloaded from the Johnson County Democrats Hall of Fame event. Our purpose was to view the dozen images, yet also to consider my thousands of photographs with an eye toward using them for many purposes. Mainly, I like photography, and don’t want to leave the raw materials of a life behind in a disorderly fashion. I thought it prudent to get feedback on this project from other family members. This post springboards from our hour or so discussion while also considering the scope of the issue.

Using Photographs Now.

At 73 years I don’t have a lot of extra time to be looking at old photographs. The question that prompted our family discussion is what will happen to all the paper and digital photographs I collected in a lifetime when I am gone? So often I got hung up with that question it was difficult to live in the now and do something with them. There are plenty of things to do with old photographs in the here and now.

My use of photographs on this blog and on other social media platforms is straight forward. I take a photo of my morning coffee and post it with a brief message on BlueSky. When I take my daily walk I’m on the lookout for conditions that merit a photo and then post them either here or on BlueSky. If I attend a public event, I’m looking for a single image to use on this blog. This is what my quotidian life of photography has become. It is okay. The absence of posed photographs is noted and mostly, desired.

Photo displays could be added into current usage. For example, like the referenced slide show, I could create another set to be shown when we are next together. Likewise, it could be shared on Discord or another online sharing application. This would provide some motivation to both define projects in small bites, and to meet a deadline for producing a slideshow. Partly, this mimics the old film and print days when I got a packet of photos back from the drug store and wanted to share them with family and friends. It would also nudge me to find projects relevant to the audience. Social media has eroded interest in that type of viewing, yet with a little gumption it could easily be renewed and appreciated.

As I write my autobiography I post relevant photos on a magnetic white board. This is not a permanent shrine to my life and the people in it. It is a living thing from which I gain inspiration. Which photos are on it changes constantly. At some point they will be taken down and stored away in more permanent places. This type of photo display serves the specific purpose of kindling memories so I can do a better job writing about my life. Among the uses of photographs this is as valid as any of them.

I have limited interest in creating traditional photo albums. As the ones we have age, we should maintain them as appropriate. The rubber cement we used to affix prints to a page apparently doesn’t hold up over the decades. Maintaining those memories is important, although I’m not sure I would make another like them. Albums have been a medium for creative expression and that will likely continue to some degree if I find a topic.

Archival Review and Storage.

The state of my photographs is neglected. I have piles and envelopes with many different photos in them. There are multiple shoe boxes of photographs. There are a couple dozen photo albums. My digital photos are filed by date and it’s hard to tell what they are without looking. I also have photos stored in file folders related to projects. That’s not to mention those I’ve posted here or on social media. The goal of any project is to feel I’m giving due attention to images I captured: to neglect images less.

I decided to use the envelope method to store print photos that are similar in some respect. That is, groups of photos will be stored, and to some extent labeled, and placed in envelopes according to some criteria. For example, photos of certain friends might have their own envelope. It is important to write on the back of prints what the viewer is looking at. Also, why are certain photos grouped together. If I want to pass on stories to the millennial generation, this is one way of doing it. It is worth making time for the effort.

Likewise there is an archivist concern about taking care of photos in storage. In particular, how is print exposure to moisture being controlled? Is the cloud storage solution the right one for digital photographs? Which cloud storage is the best option?

Inevitably, these concerns lead to touching each photograph and doing something with it. To accommodate this, I feel it is important to set up a regular time each week to work on that. The current schedule is to work on photography each Tuesday for a couple of hours.

Making New Photographs.

Going forward, the goal is to save fewer photographs. If I take ten shots of a sunrise, I should keep only the best one, making the decision within an hour of taking a photograph. Not doing so is pure laziness. While it is easy to make multiple exposures, the goal is to find what Henri Cartier-Bresson called the “decisive moment.” From a photo production standpoint, using unposed, candid moments captured with a focus on composition and the “decisive moment” includes learning how to better frame an image, attention to lighting, and perhaps taking multiple shots, and then discarding the lessor quality images. One assumes we won’t return to the lesser images.

As far as printing digital images goes, there needs be a reason to do so. It can be to mail an image to the people in it, or in rare cases, pasting them into a photo album on a specific topic.

Like everything I do these days, managing photography is an ongoing discussion. Time with the potential inheritors of a collection of stuff just makes sense, and I’m glad we had the conversation.

~First in a series of posts about managing personal photographs

Categories
Writing

Not as Planned

Pelican migration, late winter 2025.

Ambient temperatures were in the mid-40s yet it was the wind, gusting at 25 mph, that made garlic planting impossible. I rescheduled. The soil is right, but I didn’t want to fight the wind. This year’s garlic is an experiment. It is not going as planned.

This excerpt from my journal seems apropos for today.

So be it, a life of creating starts. Here a thermometer installed on the kitchen awning. Here some seeds planted, a corner raked. A book read, a lifelong process, never ending, of small acts, viewable only with an eye more omniscient than mine: as the nuns taught, “All for the honor and glory of God.”

To live a life: this is what is presented.

Like a pioneer, I step into the wilderness. Though others may have lived here before, my presence gives new life to the present. Not forgetting what my ancestors have created, I strike a new path, and though a crowd goes the main road, I’ll take the paths still traveled by deer and rabbits and birds.

I feel the number of people who live engaged in life is diminishing. Many seem to accept that society is a prioiri. What we do takes place in a context set by others. They do not realize that we are the set designers, as well as the authors of this drama. And drama only comes as we will.

We must make a sculpture of the clay of our lives. Something created in a manner that will yield beauty and worth to the observer. Whether that observer be society’s poor or rich art patrons, or God alone. It is critical the creation be made. We must attempt it. Though only God may be watching, in his eyes, our lives, small and made of clay, have purpose, and worth. But the charge is ours, each one to live a life. (Personal Journal, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, April 13, 1986).

Categories
Kitchen Garden

Garden Enchiladas

Enchiladas, Spanish rice, and sauteed corn and bell pepper.

It seems early for a kitchen garden post yet here we are. The combination of a mild winter and plentiful plantings last year brought a Saturday vegetable harvest. There were collards, kale, cilantro, and spring onions growing in last year’s planting areas. Volunteer garlic came up where I plan tomatoes this year. After harvest, I cleaned the produce and made dinner with it. We had enchiladas, Spanish rice, and corn sauteed with bell pepper. I also used preserved guajillo chili sauce from last year. My recipe for enchiladas is here.

This meal has a lot of steps yet is worth the effort. The point I make today is while I enjoy plate photos like the one above, the sought end result is fleeting creativity in the kitchen, set in time, as I use ingredients picked an hour or two before. It is of such fleeting essences our lives are made.

During my time I viewed many television cooking shows, and lately, short-form videos about cooking. Rarely does any one of them stand out. Some are formulaic, some a brief distraction. There were so many of them, all the recipes and processes began to look alike. I mean, we know the combination of onion, carrot and celery with bay leaves makes a delicious soup base. We should know the Louisiana “holy trinity” is onions, bell peppers, and celery. How many times do we need to hear it? I imagine most of us have heard it enough.

It is possible to be a creative person. Creativity has some end goal in mind, with cooking, perhaps a plate photo or making a memory of a specific meal. Yet it is the process for which we live. I would never have put collard greens in the filling of an enchilada, except that’s what I found in the garden that day. I found fresh cilantro and that unplanned addition characterized the dish. While I often have recipes in mind, they are little more than a suggestion when cooking. The best of what we eat is often the result of a process that had no recipe in mind at the beginning. At least, it can be.

Grocers have a problem with my kind of food creativity. A grocer in a big box store must stock thousands of items while waiting for some customer to come along seeking one. They rely upon an item’s popularity to cover overhead and make a profit. Popular as they are, I can’t imagine many circumstances when I would buy fresh cilantro or spring onions at the grocer, even though they stock them all year. Therein lies the difference between my kitchen garden and cooking. There is something magical about a kitchen garden that can’t be replaced by commodities from the grocer.

Enchiladas are a well-liked meal in the United States and elsewhere. Our small community has two Mexican restaurants that sell them. If I wanted a Mexican-style dinner, I could just buy take out. That would be missing the point of time in the kitchen garden.