Stan Miller of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel wrote a great story about us:
(http://www.jsonline.com/entertainment/50476562.html)
Stan spent a lot of time working on the article (an afternoon interviewing us, sitting in on us interviewing Paul Olson, and then a long day watching Paul teach Greg how to hang glide). I think he really captured the essence of what Our Next Thing is about.
Real journalists still walk among us even though Stan has a face for TV and a voice for radio. He's one to watch.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Putting It Out There
Last night, Greg & I gave a talk to the Spreenkler Group of Milwaukee. They have casual forums every Wednesday and provide information & feedback to creative enterprises.
In their words:
"Spreenkler Creative is a creative services agency that hires talented college students to give them real client and project experience, expose them to dynamic organizations and help them launch their careers."
www.spreenkler.com
It started as a group of about 8 people getting together for Margaritas and has grown by leaps and bounds. Normally the presentation would have been at Bucketworks, but that facility is recovering from a massive flood that damaged their space. So we met at the new Independence First facility. It's a good-energy, beautiful place. Here's a quote from their website.
"The Independent Living Movement was born out of the civil rights movement for persons with disabilities in the 1960’s and 1970’s. Consumer choice, autonomy and control define the Independent Living Movement. The independent living philosophy holds that individuals with disabilities have the right to live with dignity and with appropriate support in their own homes, fully participate in their communities, and to control and make decisions about their lives. The National Council on Independent Living is comprised of organizations throughout the nation, including IndependenceFirst, that continue to operate under the independent living philosophy."
YES. Don't we all deserve that?
http://www.independencefirst.org/
Thanks to our hosts for the great pizza and, most of all, the enthusiastic audience who offered provocative comments and suggestions. We also got some ideas for more people to interview.
IN OTHER NEWS:
If you're in the Milwaukee area, watch for an article about us in this Sunday's (July 12) CUE section of the Journal Sentinel. Stan Miller spent a lot of time with us observing how we work, from sitting in on an interview with Paul Olsen of Scooter Tow Hand Gliding to Greg's first hand gliding lesson and brief flight.
AND SOME PERSONAL NEWS:
Last week, I officially graduated from a 3-month Cardiac Rehab Program at Columbia Hospital. You know, the people who saved my life? For several weeks after my Heart Attack, it was the only place where I felt safe. They helped me push myself and provided gentle encouragement and much love. All the women who work there are extraordinary people who help people like me get back on their feet and then on the road to living healthier. Something I have to work at every day because it's not exactly second nature to me. I had filled out a huge questionnaire when I first arrived and then the same one last week. Based on those answers, my emotional, mental and physical progress was measured and rated. Overall, I made a 150% improvement! This was so overwhelming to me that I just cried and cried, especially when they handed me my official diploma.
After hugs and tearful goodbyes to the Ladies of Rehab, I saw some people from the next class sitting in the waiting area. So I had to show off my diploma and offer them some encouragement. Now, I'm pretty much "the kid" in these classes. Most people are anywhere from 10 to 30 years older than me. So I think I had it a lot easier than they do. Each recovery is unique. As we were sitting there, I said: "You know what the hardest part of this was?...Making the decision to live." To my surprise, they all nodded in agreement. It would have been SO MUCH easier to just say, "This isn't worth it." So much easier to just go home from the hospital and give up. And for a couple weeks, that was the biggest internal struggle for me. It's not enough to have great family and friends tell you they love & need you; in fact, that was often annoying to me! I hated getting advice like, "well now you have to ......" Grrrr. Words like "should," "have to," "must," and so on just don't work for me. There were no easy fixes.
Now I have this newest diploma hanging on the wall of my newly-created exercise room for motivation. I need it!
In their words:
"Spreenkler Creative is a creative services agency that hires talented college students to give them real client and project experience, expose them to dynamic organizations and help them launch their careers."
www.spreenkler.com
It started as a group of about 8 people getting together for Margaritas and has grown by leaps and bounds. Normally the presentation would have been at Bucketworks, but that facility is recovering from a massive flood that damaged their space. So we met at the new Independence First facility. It's a good-energy, beautiful place. Here's a quote from their website.
"The Independent Living Movement was born out of the civil rights movement for persons with disabilities in the 1960’s and 1970’s. Consumer choice, autonomy and control define the Independent Living Movement. The independent living philosophy holds that individuals with disabilities have the right to live with dignity and with appropriate support in their own homes, fully participate in their communities, and to control and make decisions about their lives. The National Council on Independent Living is comprised of organizations throughout the nation, including IndependenceFirst, that continue to operate under the independent living philosophy."
YES. Don't we all deserve that?
http://www.independencefirst.org/
Thanks to our hosts for the great pizza and, most of all, the enthusiastic audience who offered provocative comments and suggestions. We also got some ideas for more people to interview.
IN OTHER NEWS:
If you're in the Milwaukee area, watch for an article about us in this Sunday's (July 12) CUE section of the Journal Sentinel. Stan Miller spent a lot of time with us observing how we work, from sitting in on an interview with Paul Olsen of Scooter Tow Hand Gliding to Greg's first hand gliding lesson and brief flight.
AND SOME PERSONAL NEWS:
Last week, I officially graduated from a 3-month Cardiac Rehab Program at Columbia Hospital. You know, the people who saved my life? For several weeks after my Heart Attack, it was the only place where I felt safe. They helped me push myself and provided gentle encouragement and much love. All the women who work there are extraordinary people who help people like me get back on their feet and then on the road to living healthier. Something I have to work at every day because it's not exactly second nature to me. I had filled out a huge questionnaire when I first arrived and then the same one last week. Based on those answers, my emotional, mental and physical progress was measured and rated. Overall, I made a 150% improvement! This was so overwhelming to me that I just cried and cried, especially when they handed me my official diploma.
After hugs and tearful goodbyes to the Ladies of Rehab, I saw some people from the next class sitting in the waiting area. So I had to show off my diploma and offer them some encouragement. Now, I'm pretty much "the kid" in these classes. Most people are anywhere from 10 to 30 years older than me. So I think I had it a lot easier than they do. Each recovery is unique. As we were sitting there, I said: "You know what the hardest part of this was?...Making the decision to live." To my surprise, they all nodded in agreement. It would have been SO MUCH easier to just say, "This isn't worth it." So much easier to just go home from the hospital and give up. And for a couple weeks, that was the biggest internal struggle for me. It's not enough to have great family and friends tell you they love & need you; in fact, that was often annoying to me! I hated getting advice like, "well now you have to ......" Grrrr. Words like "should," "have to," "must," and so on just don't work for me. There were no easy fixes.
Now I have this newest diploma hanging on the wall of my newly-created exercise room for motivation. I need it!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Something Sweet About Someone
Greg Ryan is my husband of almost 10 years. He is, without question, one of the sweetest and funniest people I've ever met. He has no idea what a great guy he is, which is nice too.
So here's a Greg story. We met in 1996, three years after I lost Will Rockett, my first husband, to a brain tumor. Greg was always respectful of Will's memory, gave me space with it, but asked lots of questions about The Rockett Man because, oddly enough, he said he wished he had known Will. Okay, that's not even the sweet part.
We never needed to be around each other 24/7 and since our taste in movies doesn't always coincide we often go to movies separately with friends. He sees the big-blockbuster-blow-'em-ups and I go off to see my dark subtitled celluloid. Back in '96 John Travolta was in a film called "Phenomena." Okay, it wasn't the greatest film of all time, but I wanted to see it because of the subject matter. A man suddenly develops incredible psychic abilities after having a vision of a UFO or comet. Turns out, Greg had already seen it and I started to make plans to go with a friend. But he said he'd see it again and wanted to go with me. Well, if you've seen the film you know where this is going. Turns out, the Travolta character didn't see a comet; he had a brain tumor. And after everyone on the screen and in the audience falls absolutely in love with this great guy, he dies. I, of course, am crying my eyes out. I think it actually took me a few minutes to regain my composure after the credits rolled to go back outside without having snot roll down my face.
Days later, I ask Greg why he wanted to see it again. And he said, "I knew it would be hard on you and I wanted to be there for you when you saw it." And that got me crying all over again.
Now off you go. Go think about something sweet about someone you know.
PS Soon after, I told my sister-in-law Victoria about this. She said, "You better not screw things up with this guy!"
So here's a Greg story. We met in 1996, three years after I lost Will Rockett, my first husband, to a brain tumor. Greg was always respectful of Will's memory, gave me space with it, but asked lots of questions about The Rockett Man because, oddly enough, he said he wished he had known Will. Okay, that's not even the sweet part.
We never needed to be around each other 24/7 and since our taste in movies doesn't always coincide we often go to movies separately with friends. He sees the big-blockbuster-blow-'em-ups and I go off to see my dark subtitled celluloid. Back in '96 John Travolta was in a film called "Phenomena." Okay, it wasn't the greatest film of all time, but I wanted to see it because of the subject matter. A man suddenly develops incredible psychic abilities after having a vision of a UFO or comet. Turns out, Greg had already seen it and I started to make plans to go with a friend. But he said he'd see it again and wanted to go with me. Well, if you've seen the film you know where this is going. Turns out, the Travolta character didn't see a comet; he had a brain tumor. And after everyone on the screen and in the audience falls absolutely in love with this great guy, he dies. I, of course, am crying my eyes out. I think it actually took me a few minutes to regain my composure after the credits rolled to go back outside without having snot roll down my face.
Days later, I ask Greg why he wanted to see it again. And he said, "I knew it would be hard on you and I wanted to be there for you when you saw it." And that got me crying all over again.
Now off you go. Go think about something sweet about someone you know.
PS Soon after, I told my sister-in-law Victoria about this. She said, "You better not screw things up with this guy!"
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Two People I'd Like to Be More Like
Maybe it was writing about the entire heart attack and its aftermath, maybe it was my declaration that I might or might not choose to lead a healthy life. Whatever it was, I sure feel better! Stamina is up; normalcy is returning. I only think about cigarettes about 3 dozen times a day.
I've stumbled on to two people that I want to emulate: Michael J. Fox and my neighbor Kris.
Take a look at Fox's appearance on The Daily Show and you'll see what I mean:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/66641/the-daily-show-with-jon-stewart-michael-j-fox
I love the fact that he said it took him 7 years to come to terms with being diagnosed with Parkinsons. And now he's this amazing force who uses his celebrity to champion research and awareness as opposed to being the self-proclaimed "jackass" he'd been over the previous few years.
And then there's Kris, who has been fighting cancer for a couple years now. I'm sure I've been one of the well-meaning people that I mentioned in my last blog, one of those who asked her one to many times how she was feeling. Or one of those people who suggested yet more reading material and alternative treatments, as though she didn't have enough of that. If my questions or comments were ever annoying, intrusive or just plain ignorant, Kris never let on. She has always been gracious and patient, as though she was there to make everyone else feel better rather than the other way around. Her attitude never ceases to amaze me.
But, then again, Kris always seemed to be a positive person. My brand of optimism has always been cautious; I try to guard against disappointment and heart break. I'm not sure if that's an inherent character trait or something that can change. It makes me think of a time when I was traveling alone in Italy. It was two years after my first husband Will had died and I thought I was past the worst of my grieving. I was sitting outside the main cathedral of St. Frances of Assisi when what seemed like an endless line of young Asian nuns streamed out of the church in a single file; all smiling, all looking radiant. They carried the bliss of pure faith around them like auras; I envied that innocence and simplicity and was almost brought to tears at the sight of these sweet nuns. I wished I could feel that kind of blind comfort in the midst of my grief. But I also came to terms with the fact that I simply did not share that faith; that one of my life's challenges was to live with rationality and uncertainty. Being uncertain as to whether or not there's an after life, a higher being, all of that stuff. It forces one to make decisions, especially those that involve ethics, not on the basis of getting some kind of reward after one's death, but simply because one has determined that it is the right thing to do.
Far too often, I've found that the people who advertise their religious beliefs the loudest are often the least likely to treat others fairly. Greg and I were recently cheated by a so-called Christian person; his sanctimonious attitude could only come from feeling absolutely correct, which is where I find religious fervor to be so dangerous. It can give license to humankind's worst behavior. And the question for us now is: do we just let the bad deed go or pursue justice? Which is better for our own peace of mind and well being? We're weighing the options.
In the meantime, I'm trying to find more people like MJF & Kris. And if it took Fox 7 years to figure things out, then maybe I will too.
I've stumbled on to two people that I want to emulate: Michael J. Fox and my neighbor Kris.
Take a look at Fox's appearance on The Daily Show and you'll see what I mean:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/66641/the-daily-show-with-jon-stewart-michael-j-fox
I love the fact that he said it took him 7 years to come to terms with being diagnosed with Parkinsons. And now he's this amazing force who uses his celebrity to champion research and awareness as opposed to being the self-proclaimed "jackass" he'd been over the previous few years.
And then there's Kris, who has been fighting cancer for a couple years now. I'm sure I've been one of the well-meaning people that I mentioned in my last blog, one of those who asked her one to many times how she was feeling. Or one of those people who suggested yet more reading material and alternative treatments, as though she didn't have enough of that. If my questions or comments were ever annoying, intrusive or just plain ignorant, Kris never let on. She has always been gracious and patient, as though she was there to make everyone else feel better rather than the other way around. Her attitude never ceases to amaze me.
But, then again, Kris always seemed to be a positive person. My brand of optimism has always been cautious; I try to guard against disappointment and heart break. I'm not sure if that's an inherent character trait or something that can change. It makes me think of a time when I was traveling alone in Italy. It was two years after my first husband Will had died and I thought I was past the worst of my grieving. I was sitting outside the main cathedral of St. Frances of Assisi when what seemed like an endless line of young Asian nuns streamed out of the church in a single file; all smiling, all looking radiant. They carried the bliss of pure faith around them like auras; I envied that innocence and simplicity and was almost brought to tears at the sight of these sweet nuns. I wished I could feel that kind of blind comfort in the midst of my grief. But I also came to terms with the fact that I simply did not share that faith; that one of my life's challenges was to live with rationality and uncertainty. Being uncertain as to whether or not there's an after life, a higher being, all of that stuff. It forces one to make decisions, especially those that involve ethics, not on the basis of getting some kind of reward after one's death, but simply because one has determined that it is the right thing to do.
Far too often, I've found that the people who advertise their religious beliefs the loudest are often the least likely to treat others fairly. Greg and I were recently cheated by a so-called Christian person; his sanctimonious attitude could only come from feeling absolutely correct, which is where I find religious fervor to be so dangerous. It can give license to humankind's worst behavior. And the question for us now is: do we just let the bad deed go or pursue justice? Which is better for our own peace of mind and well being? We're weighing the options.
In the meantime, I'm trying to find more people like MJF & Kris. And if it took Fox 7 years to figure things out, then maybe I will too.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The Black Mountain Welcome Table, Chef John Crognale
pictured above:
Toni & Brooke; Lake Tomahawk & the Seven Sisters Mountains; Greg Dunn finds feathers along the lake
Our new friends Toni De Lisa (potter) and Greg Dunn (tribal mask maker) brought us to the Black Mountain Welcome Table today. The daughter of a chef and one helluva cook herself, Toni seems to be able to find fellow Italian-Americans wherever she goes.
Today she introduced us to John Crognale, a retired chef who had a 5-star restaurant in Monterey, California for many years. The son of Italian immigrants, John has the charming demeanor of an accomplished host. He's constantly creating new community projects and started the community table in the neighboring town of Montreat. Right now, he's developing this Welcome Table in Black Mountain with a small army of cheerful volunteers. The food is prepared from fresh ingredients which are locally grown wherever possible. You sit at family-style tables and get to meet new people while enjoying a gourmet meal. Everything is friendly and casual, most of the diners today were senior citizens but that may change as the word about this gets out. There's a donation jar and you pay what you can; if you can't pay, that's okay too.
Chef John hopes increase these events at Black Mountain's Community Center to include several breakfasts and lunches every week. With its location on the banks of Lake Tomahawk and the lovely Seven Sisters Mountains in the background, lunching here is a sweet way to spend an afternoon. If you eat too much dessert, like all of us did, you can walk it off around the lake.
When we met, John and I shook hands; when I left, we hugged. That's what a community table does.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Herding Goats to Bending Steel: Tessa Whittman
Greg & Tessa at her new studio
We may have conducted our last interview in Asheville today, at least for this trip. And it couldn't have been with an individual who better personifies what Our Next Thing is all about. Tessa Whittman could be our poster woman!
We may have conducted our last interview in Asheville today, at least for this trip. And it couldn't have been with an individual who better personifies what Our Next Thing is all about. Tessa Whittman could be our poster woman!
Tessa worked briefly as a Live Sound Engineer in her hometown of Minneapolis. Maybe it was those brutal upper midwest winters, maybe it was the finicky nature of the music business, but Tessa dreamed of learning how to surf. She yearned to experience "Island Fever" and escape her known world for a while. What better place than Maui?
She found herself living on the edge of a hippy enclave in the Hawaiian jungle and built herself a little shelter with not much more than an extension cord and a pot. Her new job was on the other side of the island with a daily commute that dropped 10,000 feet to a goat farm in one of the few desert-like areas in the region. Yes, she became a goat herder and worked for a couple who eventually became well known for their artisan cheeses.
Her existence there sounded like paradise; but Tessa reminded us that paradise is not necessarily what gives us peace of mind. She was still searching. She returned to the mainland, this time West Virginia, to take a class in Blacksmithing. Now it was Appalachia itself that felt like home to her and Blacksmithing was what she wanted to do.
The decision to leave Hawaii with all its charms wasn't too difficult for Tessa because she had found both a craft and a place to hone that craft at the Penland School of Crafts in Western North Carolina. For three years, Tessa studied and worked at the school. Greg filmed her this past Sunday during one of her last days at the Smithy of Penland.
We talked to Tessa today, on the day she would sign her lease for a blacksmith studio that she'll share with several other blacksmithers in the Wedge Building of the River Arts section of Asheville. Not too long ago, this space was the studio of John Payne, a legendary figure in this city. He was a pioneer as a metal sculptor and one of the forces behind Asheville revitalization as an arts community. John Payne passed away last year but his presence is still deeply felt in his former studio and in this city.
Now, Tessa and her business partner Tina - along with other blacksmiths - are the next generation of artists and crafts people working in steel. I never had the honor of meeting John Payne, but when I look at the people inhabiting his studio now, I can't help but think that he'd be proud. An ancient craft continues and it is a beautiful thing to behold. I can't wait to come back to Asheville and see what Tessa and her fellow blacksmithers are creating.
Note: to read a lovely tribute to John Payne, go to google and search for "john payne wedge studio". You'll see a link to the Mountain Express site.
Sound Healing - Dielle Ciesco
We interviewed Dielle Ciesco last Saturday at her home, which part of a Habitat for Humanity community on the outskirts of Asheville.
Dielle is difficult to describe; she's like a little bundle of calm and joy. You can feel better by just talking to her. She has a new career as a Sound Healer, Vocal Meditation Instructor and is a member of the Asheville Life Coach Clinic.
Dielle started her working life as a public school teacher but quickly realized it wasn't the right fit for her. Through a series of twists and turns, she became a student of a shaman in Mexico and studied several healing modalities. Since singing was always a source of joy in her life it became a part of her healing path.
At the end of the interview, Dielle gave me a Sound Healing session. Usually, Greg is the one who gets to do this kind of thing while I stay behind the camera. But we had just given up smoking two nights before and I managed to get through a very stressful family emergency the day before. I needed it! The setting is similar to many massage therapists. I laid down on a comfortable table with silky linens while Dielle worked around and above me.
Now, I have a pretty open mind and I've tried a lot of alternative medicines and spiritual practices. There are a lot of lotus-eaters out there. But Dielle is the Real Thing. She asked permission to touch me during the session. I immediately trusted her and just let it happen. In the beginning, I felt a soft pressure inside my lungs (I hadn't told her about quitting smoking). Dielle used her own incredible voice, bells and hand crafted sound makers at different times in the session. Tightness and knots and other indescribable things in different areas of my body were released. There is a kindness, compassion and acceptance that Dielle imparts that let me go deeper and deeper into a meditative state.
When the session ended, we reviewed what happened. I know it helped me and right now I get a little teary-eyed just thinking about it because it was so wonderful.
You can find out more about Dielle's work by visiting her website:
www.TheVoiceofLife,.com
inquire@thevoiceoflife.com
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