Tag: growing up

feelings

smell the roses

abby mumford

in this day and at my age, i’m classified as an adult. i may not feel like one, but on paper, i am one: i pay my own bills, bring home a paycheck, cook, clean, drink, live on my own, make plans with friends, and travel to see family. doing all the aforementioned things, it’s easy to get wrapped up in the ins and outs of this and that and always looking ahead at what’s next on the schedule. while fun and exciting and necessary, this leaves little room to enjoy the individual moments.

unless i press pause. metaphorically. literally. physically. emotionally.

there are so many wonderful things swirling around me i just need to reach out and snatch them, commit them to memory.

and in case i forget, there’s always a kid to remind me to stop behaving like an adult and live a little:

exhibit A: baby mac

in the midst of all the planning and the doing and the going, i can’t forget to enjoy the moments i’ve worked so hard to plan because as they say, life is what happens when you’re making other plans and i don’t want it to pass me by in a big blur of colors and faces and storms.

so, for the rest of the summer (holy cow, that’s just one month!), i’m going to slow it down, observe everything around me, and yes, stop and smell the flowers should i happen upon them. i’m going to feel my feelings instead of brush them aside because i don’t have time to be anything other than even-keeled. i shall eat ice cream and go for some runs and read and be quiet and be loud and take charge and sit back. i’m going to be busy and i’m going to meander. i’m going to talk on the phone and send emails and take pictures and visit with friends. i’m even going to write.

basically, i’m going to smile and have fun because while life may not be what i expected, i should (and can and will) embrace it.

what are YOU going to do during the dog days of summer?

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writing

overheard

abby mumford

“it’s just a sketch. that’s what it’s all about.”

i had just sat down outside. a man was sitting one table away. his gray hair was covered by a hat only a foreigner or an artist could pull off. he was both. he was speaking to a woman at another table, but who was leaning so far over in her chair, they were practically at the same table. two different generations. two different nationalities. two different genders. both interested in art.

and then there was me.

i was intrigued by this unusual pairing, but i wasn’t there to eavesdrop. besides, his original words gave me plenty to think about because here he was an artist and there i was a writer, but his words applied to us both. in any creative endeavor, or really, any type of endeavor, it’s all about the sketch, the first draft, the practice.

the beginning is the time to take chances, to try out new writing instruments (pens/pencils/oils/keyboards/word/scrivener) and structures and characters and words and make a mess and generally flail around. it’s when mistakes are allowed and confusion is abound and you’re doodling in the margins.

the sketch is the backbone of the final picture and is what it’s all about because you can’t have a finished product if you haven’t even started it.

his words were also directly applicable to my newest character, who’s a bit of an artist herself. sketches, in particular, are very important to her and i still can’t quite believe the perfection of that moment. me sitting, him speaking. it’s like i was in a movie where the thing i needed to hear was the exact thing that was said to me (or in my case, near me).

even though it’s nothing i haven’t heard before, his words were peppered with humility and honesty and were softly tinged with an accent not from nearby which made me feel like i was hearing this combination of words for the first time.

sometimes the best advice is something you already knew.

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feelings

water vs. fine literature

abby mumford

water

“High and fine literature is wine, and mine is only water;

but everybody likes water.”

Mark Twain

(please excuse this interruption, but before i go any further, i must admit that i blatantly stole the image and the quote from Aidan Donnelley Rowley’s blog. go ahead, click on the image or the words and it’ll take you to her beautiful website.)

but back to my regularly scheduled post: when i read this quote by mark twain, it triggered a physical response.

i went and got a drink of water.

(ok, for serious now.)

his words eloquently and straightforwardedly (friday’s the day where you can make up new words) state something i’ve felt in varying degrees my whole life. if a stranger looked at my bookshelf, they might degree it full of “water” books and wonder why i’m not reading more “wine”. me and drinking wine are besties, so why don’t i read literature of the same sort? i say i love books and i say i read every day (i do!), so then why haven’t i or why don’t i read more serious literature more often?

probably because the main reason i read is for entertainment.

i want to be carted away from the doldrums of my life and placed in a world that’s shiny and silly and amazing and breathtaking and scary and vivid and different. high literature does have those things (and wine makes me feel those things), but it is too fancy. too convoluted. too proud. it feels like you have to walk on eggshells around big words and important political statements, and you know what? i’m not a big fan of reading delicately.

i like to gulp the words.

i want dive in and splash around in plot twists and sink underneath the surface and let the characters bubble up around me. i want to smash through realizations and bellow about relationships and make the wrong decisions and pick the right guy and figure out how the world around me works. i want to race through chapters so fast i can’t catch my breath and yet lay there quietly nodding in empathy. breathing and reading in and out. in and out. learning and growing and cheering and doing new things in fiction and real life (as a writer, a reader, and a human).

YA books do this for me. other books may do that for you and that’s why there are so many options out there in the world, so we can all be happy within the pages of a book.

so, while MY love goes out to books that may be considered more water than wine, it’s because these books make me laugh and grin and scream and shake my fist and wince and cry and learn and grow, but most importantly, they make me turn the page.

WHAT BOOKS DO THAT FOR YOU? OR IN OTHER QUESTIONS, DO YOU LIKE WATER? WINE? SOME OTHER BEVERAGE? WHAT WILL IT TAKE TO GET YOU TO COMMENT HERE. YES, YOU, ALL OF YOU!

p.s. the irony of the “underage” YA book being marked as water just hit me. even if it was high fa-luting literature, it probably shouldn’t ever be considered wine.

 

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feelings

happy birthday, brother G

abby mumford

i mentioned january was a big month for us mumford kids and i wasn’t kidding.

TODAY is brother G’s birthday.

he’s the eldest of us and he’s forged the path to adulthood (all the way across the country!) with maturity and class.

brother G as the big bad wolf

and it’s that humor and grace i try to emulate on a daily basis, because, i mean he stole all the math genes and i have to work with what i’ve got. i can only hope that i’m 1/4 as successful as he is because every day, he charms a smile out of those he interacts with whether it’s coworkers, friends, his wife, or his kids. they’re all happier when he walks into a room.

and THAT is one of the most important successes in life.

happy birthday, G. here’s hoping i get more real life smiles instead of :) (digital ones) this year. (here’s to june!)

 

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