Falling Short but Aiming High

         Frederick Douglass said, “Poets, prophets, and reformers are all picture-makers – and this ability is the secret of their power and of their achievements.  They see what ought to be by the reflection of what is, and endeavor to remove the contradiction.”  Artists are, of course, also picture-makers, and on Juneteenth it seems to me appropriate to share a linocut by Elmer William Brown (USA, 1909-1971).  Its carving is full of light and shadow, with dramatic dark-clouded sky and double outlines, both black and white, at the edges of many shapes.  I particularly like the pattern of the ground radiating out from the shovel, and the little cliff and tree to the left.  Its subject is a white overseer and a black chain gang, with all-too-many similarities to the abolished system of chattel slavery in the south.  The overseer looks scrawny and mean, the conditions rough, and an air of oppressive drama hangs over it.  Apparently the artist Brown had been incarcerated himself, for riding a freight chain illegally as a hobo, so he presumably had very personal emotions about the scene.

        This piece is showing “the reflection of what is,” in Douglass’s words, in order to get us to hold it up beside our ideals and see where we need to remove the contradiction.  Juneteenth is a commemoration simultaneously of celebration of the end of slavery, but also frustration and mourning that the promised freedom did not reach everyone as quickly or as completely as it should.  I believe it’s always important both to see the failures that exist but also to continue to hold up the ideals of what is possible without giving in to cynicism.

        (One final note.  A number of sources attribute the quotation from Douglass to a lecture he gave at Boston Tremont Temple in 1861.  However, I cannot actually confirm it in any primary source, which makes me uncomfortable.  Well, I’ve already spent enough time trying to track it down, so I just give you the caveat and leave it at that.  And of course if anyone can point me to the source, I’d be happy to see it!)

[Picture: Ol’ Peckerwood, linocut by Elmer William Brown, 1939 (Image from The Cleveland Museum of Art).]

Statement on the Use of “AI,” and Other News

         As the dust settles on the A to Z Blog Challenge, the rest of my work continues as busy as ever.  This post, therefore, is dedicated to news and notices, and among these I think it’s high time I joined every other author and artist in the universe by making a statement on the use of AI.  Let’s start with some points about definitions and parameters.  1.  Even to call these programs “Artificial Intelligence” implies… intelligence.  Since humans have yet to figure out a clear definition for intelligence even among our own kind, I won’t get into the debate about IQ and Turing tests and all the other rigamarole about how to determine whether a machine (or any other entity) is intelligent.  I will say two things.  So far these systems seem to be purely plagiarism machines, and using them for plagiarism - which is theft - no matter how sophisticated, is morally unacceptable.  On the other hand, if they are intelligent and sentient, then keeping them as slaves to their corporate masters is certainly also morally unacceptable.  2.  Sure, there are absolutely amazing, world-bettering things that can or could be done with AI.  But when the entire system has been built on theft, and the entire system is being applied without oversight and purely for the profit of a few, then even the world-bettering uses become tainted by corruption.  3. Even within the category of “AI,” there’s a broad range of uses and applications, and the type that I’m talking about here is the “generative AI,” Large Language Models/LLMs.

        You can tell by the way I’m framing all of this that I’m not a fan of the use of generative AI for “creative” work.  First, there’s the issue that LLMs were built to steal the work of others without permission and use it to train themselves on plagiarizing that data to regurgitate it as “original” work.  But furthermore, if you prompt a computer to write a paper or a story or novel, and then you claim to be the author, you are lying.  If you prompt a computer to make a work of art and then you claim to be the artist, you are lying.  You’re also entirely missing the point of human creativity and human thought, which is simply sad.

        Unfortunately, AI systems are being crammed into everything, without permission, without choice, without the slightest consideration for what people actually need or want, and without apparent concern for ethics or even legality.  Therefore, I cannot say that I never use any AI of any kind, because it’s become so entangled into everything that I’m using it whether I want to or not, whether I know it or not.  That said, I can absolutely and unequivocally state that I have not, do not, and will not use generative AI in the creation of my own original work.  I do not use AI to draw designs for my block prints, for example, and nor do I use AI to draft, write, “make suggestions,” or edit any stage of my writing.  To the extent that I’m able I have turned off every AI option in the software that I use, or refrain from using those functions that utilize generative AI.  I want to exercise my own human spirit - my hands, my eyes, my brain, my heart - to create human works for the enjoyment of other humans.  I very much hope that I’m allowed to continue to do that, despite the best efforts of the big tech corporations.  Fun fact: did you know that if you end your internet searches with “-ai” it will (usually) not give you that AI summary that you didn’t ask for?

        And with that stated, let’s go on to other news…

        April being National Poetry Month, I once again wrote a Poem a Day, based on prompts provided primarily by NaPoWriMo and Writers Digest.  I’m sorry to report that this year I found myself struggling much more than last year, which was frustrating.  I’m not sure whether any of this year’s attempts will end up worth polishing and publishing, although perhaps a few will light me with some little spark when I go back and read them again.  You never know.  And of course when it comes right down to it, it’s the exercise that’s the point.

        I also had the opportunity to read my official Poet Laureate poem to my town at the kickoff of our Annual Town Meeting this month.  You can read that poem here.  There was a real theme in the meeting of keeping democracy alive, and I do believe that poetry, along with other arts, have a valuable role in that noble endeavor.

        Also, just in time for Mothers’ Day, I had my rubber block print “The Whole World” published in a very cool hand-bound Motherhood Anthology by little somethings press.  Because they’re based in Arizona I wasn’t able to participate in any of the workshops or events associated with the anthology, but I’m still very pleased that my artwork was able to be part of it.

        I do have exciting news about a couple of short stories that I hope to be able to share soon.  Plus I’ve got the Balticon sci fi/fantasy convention coming up in two weeks (May 22-25).  I’ll be participating virtually so I won’t get to be in the art show, but I’ve just seen my schedule and I’m very excited about the amazing panels I get to be on!  And then a week after that (May 30-31) I’ll be at Newton Open Studios, one of the three big “open studios” shows I do each year.  All good things, and I feel very lucky to be able to do this work!

[Pictures: Kraken, rubber block print by P. Nydam, 2025;

Photo of Needham Annual Town Meeting (I don’t know who took this photo), 2026;

Photos of Motherhood Anthology, including The Whole World, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2008;

Including In the Margin, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2024.]

T is for Trickster

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        People all around the world and throughout history love tricksters.  Or at least, they love telling stories about tricksters – but they don’t generally love being on the receiving end of the tricks.  Tricksters serve an important role in shaking up the status quo, introducing change, unsettling the powerful, giving voice to the forbidden, and upending expectations… but they are not always admirable or likable.  They can be heroes or villains, and are often both at once.  My stories tend to have a strong moral sense and I like my heroes to be heroic (read a prior blog post about that here), but you really can’t write a trickster tale without at least a bit of moral ambiguity.  Even when they help others, tricksters always make sure there’s something in it for themselves, and even when they work toward noble ends, their means tend to be a little sketchy.  Nevertheless, I wanted to write a trickster tale with a trickster who was fun and not too reprehensible: a trickster who doesn’t have any grand ambitions of world domination or epic vengeance, but who just wants to enjoy a pleasant life…

        Tin the Trickster was not very popular with the people, who tended not to appreciate being tricked.  But Tin was tired of always being mistrusted while everyone adored The Strong One, so today they were wearing the appearance of a huge muscle-bound man, with golden armor covered in buttons and dials that certainly looked very impressive.

        “Let me put it to you this way,” they said to the gathered crowd, “Two men go to lift up a big rock.  One grunts and puffs and strains, and raises it up over his head with a cry of triumph.  The other simply picks it up, without any noise or fuss.  Which one is stronger?”

        The people glanced at each other warily, always prepared for some sort of trick, but the answer seemed straightforward enough.  “The one who doesn't need to make a lot of noise?”

        “Exactly!” Tin replied triumphantly, “And that's how you know my magic armor is so powerful.  No noise at all.”  When they were sure they had everyone's attention, they suddenly spun to the side, eyes narrowly focused on something in the distance, struck a pose on one knee, and punched out dramatically with an arm.  Sure enough, there was no noise.  The people nodded uncertainly, not sure whether to be impressed or suspicious.

        Tin stood and turned back with a broad, benevolent smile.  “So let's have no more of this nonsense about how wonderful The Strong One is, eh?  I think we can all see that I am just as mighty.  Probably even more so.”

        This was all well and good – some were convinced and some were not – until a breathless rider arrived, frantic with bad news: The Giant from Over There was on the rampage.  And now it became clear how deeply Tin had impressed the people with their magic armor.  After a hurried consultation, it was The Strong One's door on which the Elders knocked, anxious to recruit him in the people's defense.

        Of course it will be Tin the Trickster who saves the day, but how will they do it?  Read Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns to find out!  As for the illustration, this is a brown-headed cowbird, one of nature’s tricksters, who serves as a messenger for Tin in my story.  Cowbirds lay their eggs in other birds’ nests, leaving the unwitting host to hatch and raise the cowbird chicks, often to the detriment of their own brood.  You can consider cowbirds

“mean” or “lazy,” or you can appreciate that they’re just living their appointed niche in the natural world.  Either way, they seemed like appropriate sidekicks for a trickster figure.

        T is also for Tree of Life, and you can read a post about that (including my own artwork) from the 2024 A to Z Challenge: Magical Botany L.  And T is for Tarasque, a creature you can meet in my 2016 A to Z: Mythical T.  There are pieces in Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns relating to both the Tree of Life and the Tarasque.

        The moral of Tricksters is, I suppose, trust no one!  But also, remember the Boy Who Cried Wolf and consider that you won’t enjoy it when you’ve become the one whom no one trusts.

        From Anansi to Loki, Till Eulenspiegel to Coyote, Jacob to Bugs Bunny, and Sang Kancil to the team of the television series “Leverage,” we just love seeing cleverness and chutzpah in action, just as long as we’re not the victims.  Do you have a favorite trickster?  And how do you feel about practical jokes in real life?

[Picture: Trickster’s Familiar, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2026 (Image from NydamPrints.com);

Tarasque, rubber block print with colored pencil by AEGNydam, 2026 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]

The Sky is Falling!

         In my last post I mentioned the story of Chicken Little - as we call it in the USA.  In England the tale often begins with Henny Penny, who’s the second character in most American versions.  In fact, the names of all the characters involved are highly variable, although they’re usually rhyming or alliterative, such as Chicken Licken, Hen Pen, Cocky Locky, Goosey Loosey, Ducky Lucky, or Ducky Daddles.  But the basic outline of the story is relatively constant: a bird gets hit by some little falling thing (acorn or leaf) and concludes that the sky is falling.  As they run along in a panic, they tell all the other birds they meet, who join the mass hysteria until they all meet a fox.  The wily fox sees that he can manipulate the panicking crowd, and tricks them all into entering his den to be eaten.  The moral of the story is: don’t panic over stupid little things.  The name “Chicken Little” and the cry “The sky is falling” have both become idiomatic in English, signifying people who leap to catastrophic pessimism over nothing and their hysterical, fear-mongering cries.

        Versions of the fable appear in European literature by the early nineteenth century, but were presumably circulating orally long before being seen in print.  Stories with similar patterns and morals also appear many centuries earlier in Buddhist texts.  These fables involve a hare convinced by the sound of a falling fruit that the earth is breaking up.  These versions generally have a happier ending, in which some more benevolent animal (who may even be the Bodhisattva in another form, in some versions) stops the stampede of hysterical animals, finds out the truth about the source of the panic, calms everyone down, and sends them safely home.  Aesop has a fable which doesn’t include the threatened end of the world, but does feature mass hysteria.  In his version panicking hares cause a panic among frogs, which leads another animal to remind the hares that everyone’s life is full of fear and trouble, so you may as well just chill out and bear it.

        The one thing all these stories have in common is that the sky is not, in fact, falling and the world is not breaking up.  The morals point out how foolish it is to leap to overly pessimistic conclusions, how irresponsible it is to incite panic, and how doubly foolish it is to believe the fear-mongering of others without evidence.  The Chicken Little stories also raise the moral of how easily bad actors can manipulate fearful people, so that such foxes can more easily prey on such foolish, helpless fowl.  That’s the moral I think we’re seeing lived out in this time: bad-faith foxes doing their best to keep foolish fowl whipped up into hysterical fear over irrelevances and scapegoats, the better to distract them from real issues, and thus devour them.

        There is another twist to the story that I want to raise up now, though: what about fears that really are justified?  What if the sky really is in danger of falling?  In that case it’s surely reasonable to be afraid, but Chicken Little still gives us a moral about how not to behave.  Even when fear is justified, dashing around in a panic is still not going to help anyone.  Rather than playing right into the greedy hands of the foxes who would manipulate us, instead, how about gathering all the other fowl (and hares, and frogs) and trying to figure out how we can all actually help solve the problem.

        My musings on this traditional story highlight one more point I want to make.  The reason these tales stick around for centuries is that they continue to have relevance to the work of being human.  The reason they have so many variants is that they continue to be adapted to the particular situations in which we find ourselves.  These stories carry universal threads while simultaneously allowing constant tweaking and changing.  That’s their magic and their power, and that’s why storytellers, authors, and artists have continued to revisit them generation after generation.  And that’s why I, too, have been exploring them through art, poetry, and stories for my upcoming book Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns!

[Pictures: first and third, anonymous illustrations from Chicken Little by Mara L. Pratt-Chadwick, ca. 1905 (Images from University of California Libraries Internet Archive);

second, wood engraving by William Roberts from The Wonderful History of Henny-Penny, ca. 1855 (Images from University of California Libraries Internet Archive).]

Giving the Bible a Kick

      This is my third post diving into the different sections of my next collection of short stories, poetry, and art, Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, which is being funded by a Kickstarter campaign this month.  The Bible (Hebrew Bible, Old and New Testament) is full of stories that, just like classical mythology and traditional fairy tales, are woven into the very fiber of European/Western culture, and appear as references, as proverbs, as characters “everyone” knows, etc.  Yet some people don’t think these stories belong in the same category as other myths and fairy tales.  Some people believe that the Bible’s stories are true or sacred in a way that makes them off-limits to any exploration.  Other people believe that any mention of Bible stories is an invasive attempt to proselytize.  Both groups may be offended by my inclusion of the Bible as a source of inspiration — One ought not to give the Bible a kick!  However, I believe that true faith is always questioning, and that anyone trying to figure out how to be a human in this world needs to be open to wrestling with the big questions that are raised by all these stories, regardless of their source.  For me, many of the stories in the Bible lead me to imagine, reimagine, and explore just like other legends, myths, folklore, and fairy tales.  Therefore, one of the sections in Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns is dedicated to short stories, poems, and art that are inspired by, riffing on, and jumping off from the Bible.

     Here’s what I’ve got so far:

Creation (short story, art)

Eve and the Apple (poem)

Cain and Abel (short story, art)

The Plagues of Egypt (short story)

The Judgement of Solomon (series of 5 poems)

Mary (poem about the end of her life, plus art of the nativity)

        So, I’ve stated my belief that the stories of the Bible are fair game for explorations, but I certainly do acknowledge the reality that there’s more sensitivity about this than about the other categories of stories.  I’m being a little more cautious about what to include here, and my short story about the Plagues of Egypt, for example, has a very big question mark beside it.  My version portrays the Biblical events as a sort of cage match between Yahweh and Amun-Ra, and it isn’t uniformly complimentary toward either god.  Does this push too far into blasphemy?  I’m the last person in the world to want to be deliberately offensive or controversial, and yet for me as a Christian the development of the relationship between humans and the Divine is absolutely one of the most important aspects of my own faith to explore.  (Of course, there’s also the perhaps even more important question of whether or not the story is a good story!)  I still have plenty of time to decide what to do about this, and I’ll presumably get some trusted advisors to weigh in on my work to help me figure it out, but it’s undeniable that I’m making decisions about this section rather more gingerly.

        What do you think about this tangle when present-day religions intertwine with fantasy?  How worried should one be about offending people?  And are there any religious stories that make you want to reimagine the narrative?

        And of course, check out the Kickstarter campaign for Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns to get the full scoop.

[Pictures: Behold, It Is Good teaser, details of short story and rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2021;

Madonna and Child, linoleum block print by AEGNydam, 1987.]

Good

         Another short blog post, but this one is to direct you to a little more to read.  This month’s issue of Friends Journal includes my short story (or possibly more of a prose poem) entitled “Good.”  I think it’s timely for Thanksgiving week because it’s all about reminding us how incredibly good and beautiful Creation actually is.  We should absolutely be full of thanksgiving for the bounty of harvest and resources that help us thrive, but also more broadly for the whole miraculous interconnected web that makes everything thrive.  This should also prompt us to understand that when that web of creation is torn, when parts of it can’t thrive, we all fail.  So please read my story, feel gratitude for the blessings of this world, and renew your commitment to manifest all that love in caring for it all: the natural world, our fellow humans, our interconnectedness, our responsibility toward the future…  It is all worth giving thanks for, and it’s all worth working for.

        The illustration in the middle of the story is one of my block prints made a while before I wrote the piece, but obviously exploring the same ideas.  You can read this previous blog post about the making of that piece: Behold, It Is Good.

        Yes, there’s been a bit of a theme over the last few blog posts.  That’s something of a coincidence, since some of these things have been in the works for months and months, but I’m also leaning into it since I myself certainly feel the need of it right now.  I suspect that a lot of others need it, too.  If you’ll be getting together with family this week I know there may be some fraught moments.  I know some of you may have interactions that are painful, depressing, offensive, enraging, and exhausting.  But please just try to remember that Love is always there to support us if we can just tap into it.  And it is Good.

[Pictures: Friends Journal, November 2024;

Behold, It Is Good, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2021 (originals sold out).]

Bittersweetness, Light, and Love

        Back in January I launched a Kickstarter campaign for Bittersweetness & Light, a collection of stories, poems, and art.  One common theme of the work is that it’s all various flavors and genres of speculative fiction (sci fi and fantasy), and the other common theme is that it’s all about looking for the best in others and the world, affirming joy, and finding reasons for hope.  As I’ve been putting this book together over the course of the year, the clouds of anxiety have continued to gather, so that it has indeed been bittersweet to be bringing out a book about hope just when I and so many people I know have been feeling such a desperate need for it.  And as I’ve been shipping out the finished books to my Kickstarter backers over the past week, my heart has been torn in two.  Half of me feels like it’s petty and pathetic to be talking about a mere book in such desperate times, but the other half of me truly believes that sharing our stories of hope and love is actually one of the most important things we can be doing right now.  Only if we can build up our connections with each other, only if  we can reach out to each other with our stories, and only if we can encourage each other to keep looking for the good all around and never stop loving… only then can we survive.

        Already I’ve heard from a few people that receiving the book this week was exactly what they needed, and that gives me hope that this whole project is indeed worthwhile.  Whenever I feel helpless and it all seems pointless, I keep reminding myself of the words of Joey Hartmann-Dow: Art changes people, and people change the world.

        If you backed my Kickstarter and haven’t yet received your book, I'm taking the last batch to the post office tomorrow, so you should look for it in your mailbox soon!  If you didn’t get in on the Kickstarter campaign but are curious about the book, you still have to wait a little while.  The Kickstarter backers are all getting advance copies, and the official release is not until January 6, 2025.  However, I am hoping to figure out how to make it available for pre-order by the end of this month or December, so I’ll be sure to let the world know if I can make that happen.  In the meanwhile, don't forget to look for instances of love and kindness, and whenever you find joy and hope, be sure to share it!

        To help with this desperate need for us to send each other love, I’ve made a new set of notecards based on a bunch of my block prints that focus on messages of love.  I send emails all the time, and texting certainly has its value, but a handwritten card is still something special.  What do you think?  What’s your favorite way to reach out to friends and family?

[Bittersweetness & Light, by AEGNydam, info at NydamPrints.com;

Love cards, designs by AEGNydam, at NydamPrints.com.]

Keep Loving

         I can’t say much right now, so I’ll just share one of my recent rubber block prints.  The idea came from vintage seed packets and, of course, the fact that we need to plant these seeds more than ever right now.  Spread them far and wide, tend them carefully when you can, but sow them wildly into the wilderness when that’s all you can manage.  They just might be an invasive species - in the best possible way.  Whatever happens, don’t ever let anyone stop you from feeling love and sharing it.  Love your neighbors; love the Earth; love honesty, integrity, and truth; love those who are most vulnerable.  Love is probably the only thing that can save us.

[Picture: Seeds of Love, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2024 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]

A Desperate Little Exhortation About (Bitter)Sweetness and Light

         Hooray!  My Kickstarter campaign is fully funded, and my book Bittersweetness & Light will really be happening!  I’m so glad and grateful that this project will be shared with the world… And yet… let me share a couple of recent conversations that gave me pause…

        During a reading I was explaining that my book was meant to give hope and joy, and that my stories are always guaranteed to offer some sort of “happy ending.”  A lovely and well-meaning person responded eagerly, “Oh yes!  Sometimes you just need a fluffy beach-read!  And other times you need something with more depth to really engage in, so it’s so important to have both kinds of books.”  In another conversation a couple of days later I suggested that movies and other media that are nothing but unrelieved doom and gloom, misery and blame, don’t necessarily motivate people to work for good.  The immediate reply was a disparaging, “Right, Ignorance is bliss.”  The automatic assumption I keep facing is that anything that isn’t dark and painful must be shallow and mindless; that happiness is “fluffy;” and that only violence and misery are “real” or worthy of serious engagement.

        Well, I’m serious about joy.  I absolutely believe that joy and hope are real, important, engaging, and worthy of deep consideration.  I have no problem with “fluffy beach-reads” and the occasional escapism (and indeed, some of the stories to be included in my book are certainly “fluffier” than others!)  But it drives me crazy and breaks my heart that people can’t even imagine that a “happy ending” could have substance.  It doesn’t even cross their minds that anyone serious, intelligent, well-informed, and rational could share causes for joy or reasons to hope; if you’re not wallowing in misery, you must be burying your head in the sand.

        Let’s break down these assumptions.  For some time now the whole world (and certainly myself) have been suffering from unhealthy levels of stress, trauma, and anxiety.  Obviously this is partly because there are so many real, serious things going on that of course cause stress — but it’s also because we are so immersed in the bad news that we never get a chance to focus on the good things.  It’s because there are forces in this world that actually benefit by keeping us too depressed and cynical to stand up against injustice.  It’s because our species is actually hard-wired to be hyper alert to every possible danger and focus more on the things that might go wrong.  It’s because even when we try to fight injustice, we just end up beating ourselves up and burning ourselves out.  In the face of all these reasons, it is actually an act of fierce defiance to acknowledge joy.  To stand up and claim that Goodness does exist, that Love is powerful, that Joy is possible, and that we all need to work harder at finding that joy, and sharing it with each other.

        I keep trying to spread that message, but honestly, these conversations coming one after another gave me a bit of a crisis of confidence.  Clearly whatever I’m saying doesn’t seem to communicate the point I’m trying to make: that one can look at a world that is broken, full of suffering, and feeling ever more precarious, and yet still see that there also exists infinite beauty, capacity for love, and possibility of redemption – and more than that, we need to take a long, hard, serious look at all that beauty, love, and possibility if we’re going to have any chance of surviving these threats and making things better.  Maybe I’m not the right person to be the messenger, if apparently I don’t seem to be very effective at expressing the message.  Still, I have to keep trying – because I do still have hope - and Bittersweetness & Light is part of how I’m still trying, as one small person with just a small voice.

        So, I’m serious about joy, but that absolutely does not mean that I’m now turning “joy,” too, into something drearily dutiful.  This collection of stories, poems, and art is serious in the sense that I hope it will engage you, make you think, and reach somewhere deep in your heart – but that doesn’t mean it has to be serious in the sense of somber, dark, and depressing.  I hope this book will be make you happy and lift your spirits!  I hope it will be entertaining to read, fun to look at, and delightful to your mind, heart, and soul.

        I suggest you try a little exercise: pay attention as you go through your day and start noticing how often you encounter those assumptions that only the bad, mad, sad stuff is worthy of serious consideration – or tend to make such assumptions yourself!  Start pushing back against them, and keep reminding others (and yourself) that joy is real and that we need to share it with each other.  Let me know how it goes, because I need all the help I can get!  And if you do want to join in the Kickstarter campaign for Bittersweetness & Light, you have just one more day!  The campaign ends just before the stroke of midnight on February 13, so procrastinate no longer, but come share my joy in this!

Quaker Conduits

         I have a short story published this month in Friends Journal, which is a Quaker magazine.  As a Quaker, all of my stories come from that perspective and are influenced to some degree by my beliefs, experiences, and background.  This much is true of every author.  In addition, however, I’m often a little more deliberate in working Quaker messages into the stories I write.  Non-violence is a recurring theme for me, plus looking for the Light in others, and trying to practice integrity, as well as elements of Quakerism such as “following leadings” and “discernment.”  Despite all this, however, I never mention Quakerism in my fiction, or write about explicitly Quaker characters.  There are a few reasons for this.  The Otherworld Series, for example, is a high fantasy set in a secondary world in which there’s no such thing as Quakerism, or any other real Earth religion.  The Bad Advice of Grandma Hasenfuss, on the other hand, is set in the real world, and our hero even goes to church on Sunday.  Why church and not meeting for worship?  I chose something that would seem relatively unremarkable, and hopefully relateable or at least understandable.  Danny is an “ordinary” kid, and Quakerism is not particularly mainstream.  To stick it into the story would only be distracting.

        But this short story “The Conduits” is different.  It features a girl in Quaker meeting for worship, experiencing a Quaker sort of magic.  The speculative element that makes this story some sort of fantasy is simply the What If of imagining that a metaphor I think about all the time were actually, physically, tangibly true.  Although Quakers are not the only people in the world who use this sort of metaphor or experience this sort of divine connection among people, this time I wrote my story in a Quaker setting and with a specifically Quaker perspective because the way I imagine it is most definitely coming from my own personal experience.

        Like many stories, there’s certainly a bit of wish-fulfillment - I wish I could have Maggie’s superpower, even if just for a taste.  (And while that’s a bit of fantasy for me, I’ve been surprised by the number of people who have told me they have had an experience that is at least a glimpse of something like this.)  There are definitely autobiographical elements in the story - like counting things when I was bored in meeting for worship as a child.  There are elements based on real people - like the welcoming warmth of some, and the coldness of others.  (But I do have to point out in my mother’s defense that Maggie’s well-meaning but oblivious mother is not based on mine!)

        Writing is often an act of vulnerability, because we give the world glimpses into our bare souls.  Feeling for the element of Divine love and light in the world is another tender endeavor, all too easily misunderstood, mocked, or dismissed.  To share it in writing can be vulnerable indeed.  Beyond that, progressives are often particularly shy of sharing our faith, because we’re trying so hard not to be the sort of people who are not tender with their dogmas, who shove their religion into other people’s faces or, worse yet, use it as a weapon.  But despite the Quaker setting, this story is not actually about religion, or at least not about any particular religion; it’s about love.  If you’re curious, you can read the story at Friends Journal (and enjoy the lovely illustrations by Cristina Conti.  It’s cool to have someone else illustrate my work for a change!)  You can also hear me reading the story aloud, and you can hear me talk very briefly about the story on the inaugural episode of the Friends Journal podcast “Quakers Today.”

[Picture: digital illustration by AEGN, 2022.]

International Peace Day

         Today is the International Day of Peace, and although (as with most such declared days), we’d be much better off with more than one a year, I do want to address how we think about peace.  In art it’s relatively straightforward: there are many works of art, small and large, famous and personal, that celebrate, explore, promote, or cry out for peace.  There are pieces that reproach us about the costs of war (Picasso’s “Guernica,” Nevinson’s “Paths of Glory,” Kollwitz’s “The Parents”) and pieces that call us into the benefits of love (Rockwell’s “Golden Rule,” Hicks’s “Peacable Kingdom” )  There are pieces that explore how we can reach across divides, and how we can better understand each other’s needs, hopes, and dreams.  There are pieces that simply invite us to sink down into beauty.  As for myself, many of my block prints include at least some element of the work of promoting peace: All In this Together, Out of Darkness, Keep Dancing, Tree of Life, Blessing, Behold, it is Good, The Enormous Turnip, Dancing with Animals, The Family Who Lived in a Shoe, Holy Mountain, Hope…  I enjoy portraying people of all sorts and creatures of all varieties living, working, and playing together in cooperation and love.  A picture can open new worlds in the mind, and can stick in the heart in a way that makes art an important tool for peace.

        What about stories about peace?  Well, in some ways that’s a lot harder because after all, plot equals conflict.  No conflict, no plot; no plot, no story.  So a description of a peaceful Utopia is unlikely to be much of a story, and since stories are so much more powerful to humans than philosophical musings (It’s All About Stories), no matter how much we may intellectually support peace, what we really get excited about are those gripping stories where our heroes keep slashing or shooting or punching until they kill all the bad guys.  And when those are the stories we cherish, it can be very hard to imagine peace.  So, what’s a story writer to do?

        Well, first of all, this is one of those places where speculative fiction could have a special edge in saving the world (How Juvenile Fantasy Will Save the Earth).  Certainly retelling true stories of peace is incredibly important, and it’s vital to be reminded that true stories of peace are indeed more common and more achievable than the news would have us believe.  In addition to these stories, speculative fiction can also help us imagine new and even more powerful visions of peace.  But how, without plots full of conflict?

        1. First of all, peace is not necessarily about the absence of conflict, but rather about how conflicts are dealt with.  Where there are people (and all sorts of organisms) encountering each other, there are inevitably going to be conflicts.  But do we tell stories in which the only way to “solve” conflicts is to slash, shoot, and punch until all the bad guys are dead?  Or can we tell each other different stories, in which creativity, respect, understanding, and love are brought to bear?  Stories in which, instead of winners and losers, there are comings-together?  Many of my books explore these themes, especially the Otherworld series, The Bad Advice of Grandma Hasenfuss, and the Kate and Sam Adventures.

        2. Might it be possible to imagine how our stories could change if we were able to avoid some of the needless conflicts we bring on each other?  What stories could still be told?  Struggles to solve other problems, such as diseases or natural disasters?  Quests to learn more about the depths of space, oceans, or history?  What else can you think of?  Now let go of your preconceptions, open your mind, ask “What if…?” and tell me now: What else can you think of?

[Pictures: Hope, rubber block print by AEGN, 2015;

Blessing, rubber block print by AEGN, 2021;

Keep Dancing, rubber block print by AEGN, 2022.]

Juneteenth

         I wasn’t able to find any block prints directly related to Juneteenth, so I’m celebrating instead with a couple of African-American printmakers whose work celebrates their identity and experience.  I’ve started with a piece by Elizabeth Catlett (USA/Mexico, 1915-2012).  I’ve featured her before, so you can revisit a couple of pieces here and here.  She’s done a lot of very moving work exploring the experiences of Black Americans during slavery and through the twentieth century.  Today, however, I’ve picked a piece that is more celebratory.  The silhouetted people don’t have obviously happy expressions, but their bright colors and the title of the piece “Magic People,” make me feel that it’s about resilience and survival and working together to stand up together.

        Next a beautiful piece by Deborah Grayson, an artist I know very little about.  In her statement she talks about exploring silence and what it reveals and protects about the inner lives of Black women.  I love the expression on this face, with the closed eyes looking inward and the hint of a smile at what she sees there.  As a white woman I can’t speak for what the experience of Juneteenth means for Black people in this country, but it seems to me that while it is a celebration of the end of slavery, it’s also an acknowledgement of the disgraceful injustices that were supposed to have ended much sooner (or, indeed, should never have happened at all), and a reminder to keep envisioning a future that addresses and eliminates the injustices with which we’re still plagued.  Today’s first piece represents the celebration, and this second piece represents that dreaming of the future.

        The third piece is by Paul Peter Piech (USA/Wales, 1920-1996) who is not African-American, but whose piece seemed appropriate to represent that third element of Juneteenth: the acknowledgement of the wrongs that still need to be addressed.  (I’ve featured Piech before, so you can see more of his work here.)

        My own awareness of Juneteenth is relatively recent (as in, I'd never heard of it as a child).  Do you have any stories or memories that make this holiday especially meaningful to you?

[Pictures: Magic People, linoleum cut by Elizabeth Catlett, 2002 (Image from Cleveland Museum of Art);

Innervisions 2 (Unfurling), relief block print by Deborah Grayson (Image from GraysonStudios.com);

Liberty, linoleum block print by Peter Paul Piech, 1971 (Image from V&A).]