What I Saw

What does it all mean? It’s a universal question – one uttered in countless works of literature, rendered in paintings, the topic of many a teenage journal, the theme of Hollywood blockbusters. But for me, as I lay spine-in-the dirt, I was asking the question from quite a literal perspective.

Above me were suns, moons, animals, rattlesnakes and geometric shapes in reds, turquoises, yellows, blacks. They were painted pictographs – part of an ancient Apache shrine.

This is the first piece of colorful artwork we encountered under the massive rock ledge. Click to enlarge, then click forward button for additional photos.

Not far from my home and painted on the ceiling of a protected limestone shelter, the images are fading away as sunlight/erosion takes its toll. But worse: vandals have scrawled their ugly names on top of this once sacred site. Despite this outright display of disrespect and ignorance, I still found wonder in what I saw. What does it all mean?

Our neighbor, Mark, believes the keyhole-looking symbol below might be a comet. If you look closely, you’ll see there are actually two celestial/solar drawings to the left of it.

Some archaeologists believe this type of rock art tells of astronomical incidents, or that they served as a part of hunting rituals. Perhaps they served an aesthetic, historical or magical purpose … Or a combination of all of the above.

Closer inspection as I lay in my supine position, camera lens titled upward, revealed that one scene was, indeed, a death scene. I found this haunting and exhilarating – almost a sign – since my current work in progress explores life-death themes. More than anything, I was totally energized after seeing this wondrous display of storytelling from civilizations dating back to the 1500s (tour guide-friend-neighbor Mark’s guess is that this site might have cropped up later in the 1700s).

Full view of the death scene and the vandals’ disregard for history and culture. Click to enlarge.

How do you interpret these painted pictures? Do you see the double-rattled snake striking its victim? Does it depict some kind of  biologic anomaly? Or a vision brought on by a hallucination? What do the crosses, circles and squiggles mean? What do you see?

The death scene up close. Is that a lizard? A larger animal? Click to enlarge.

For Writers: Speaking of interpretation …  As writers, we often must interpret criticism of our work – from critique groups, writing coaches, contest submissions, and agents who have requested our partials and fulls (many of whom ultimately turn them down).

Many of us hope to learn more about our novels from the agent responses we receive. But should we, really? Agents are ultra busy – reading through a lot of good queries and manuscripts – and a lot of crap. And really … it’s not their job to critique our work for free, pointing out our errors (even if they did have time). But somehow, I think most of us still hope they will offer some morsel of insight, even if they pass on our work.

Fellow writers – and agents – how should we interpret our rejections? When they’re confusing and appear to be deliberately ambiguous, do we just stash them away and move on? When they seem to vaguely say the same thing but are difficult to interpret, do we ask our writing partners for their analysis? Do we continue editing in the hopes that we’ve guessed correctly at ‘what might be wrong.’ Or …  do we altogether just let it go? Move on to the next novel?

MISSED MY PHOTO CONTEST? Pick your favorite from the Top 5 (and leave a comment) this week to win prizes: Therese Walsh’s The Last Will of Moira Leahy, Caroline Leavitt’s Pictures of You, or a print from photographer Damien Franco!

What is that, you wonder? I wondered the same thing upon my discovery. I’ve seen my share of potato “eyeballs,” but never one sprouting purple furry, white-polka dotted protrusions. Usually they’re rather boring, a dingy parsnip white, or a Jolly Rancher apple green – or if you’re lucky, they may feature a halo of magenta-pink. (And to be fair, they’re called “eyes,” but by my young northwestern Pennsylvania standards, they became eye-balls when I was a kid. And, well, I refuse to grow up).

This wonder of wonders was found in, of all places, my kitchen. Click to enlarge.

I realize I may be revealing too much about myself by admitting that this thing was – is – sitting on my kitchen countertop. But give me a break. Living 45 miles from the closest produce means I just can’t get around to eating my veggies quickly enough or buying new ones before they start a second cycle of, um … rebirth.

Plus, can you blame me for keeping this wondrous specimen around? I find it fascinating and reminiscent of ant mandibles, or close-up spider parts. Or something like that. Aren’t zoomed-in insect parts always furry like this … and a bit creepy, but ultra-spellbinding?

Bird's eye view - photo No. 2. Click to enlarge.

What do you see when you look at these photos? A flower? Vibrant colors? Velvety fabric? Or just some crazy writer who spends way too much time analyzing her produce?

For Writers: My kitchen ‘revelation’ got me to thinking about resting (since my potato pal had plenty of rest time on my countertop) … about taking your time and letting things simmer. It also got me to thinking about my WIP (work in progress) and how long it took to germinate the ideas that are fast becoming a novel. Over a period of four months, I fused together various thoughts that had surfaced in bits and pieces over the course of a few years. Never once did there seem to be a common thread that tied any of those random thoughts and what ifs to one another. But in time, a path emerged, and many of those seemingly diverging thoughts did tie in. In my case, the simmer time offered great rewards (and new ideas for future novels continue to percolate in the back of my mind, simmering as I work on the current WIP).

As writers, I think we’re an impatient bunch. My husband will tell you that patience is not one of my strong suits, but as I continue to mature as a writer, I’ve come to learn the power of taking pause. When you rest, and let your WIP rest, ideas sprout up. Organically. It’s almost as if, when you’ve taken the pressure off of yourself, you’ve given the creative mind license to do just that … be creative.

I know many of us – freelancer writers, book-contracted novelists – are on deadline, making pause and reflection difficult. But even a few days away from a difficult scene, magazine article or short story can bring much-needed clarity. Sometimes a few hours will do the trick. Sometimes that distance, that rest, that natural growing period, results in things you might never have imagined …. And sometimes – as in my case – those things might just be sitting right on your kitchen countertop.

What are your experiences with stepping back and watching things grow at their own leisure? Not only with your writing, but in life as well?

P.S. Did you miss my amateur photo contest that ended March 15? Take a peek at ALL of the fantastic entries!