OPA! Theophany & Greek Dancing

 

Yesterday was Holy Theophany (Epiphany for my Western Christian friends and those not familiar with the word “Theophany”), and so my family attended the Divine Liturgy at our Greek Orthodox Church, and the blessing of the water service followed.

Then, we went downstairs and ate a delicious meal at the Vasilopita (St. Basil’s bread) luncheon. Followed by that, we all were treated to Greek dancing by our parish teens. Here’s the two short minute and a half (each) videos I took. Enjoy!

 

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The Soaring Heights of Living in the Writing Realm

book with green background sparkle

Do you know that feeling you get when you’re in the zone? You’ve stepped inside your main character’s world and swam through its tumultuous and rhythmic waves, quenching your thirst in the emotions and conflicts, joys and discoveries of your characters.

Your fingers agilely stamp the keys, and the words soar across the page like a plane boasting its fluttering banner streaking through a clear, azure sky.

sparkling rainbow gif

Ideas, colors, imagination, romance, twists, banter, sensations, explosive climaxes, and redemptive resolutions fall like confetti inside your depthless mind. You sweep them all into a bundle of joy and sprinkle them on the white pages on your story.

Nothing outside this make believe world exists while you’re in the zone.  You saver this moment of complete dedication, imagination, and concentration.  Little more than a nuclear bomb could shake you out of this realm.

But when you emerge smiling, mind clear as glass and heart swelled twice its size, you know writing fiction is your destiny.

Capture this moment again and again by reading over your work in progress’s chapters. It fuels the creative flame inside of you.

 

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Big Wheels in a Bountiful Era

big wheel from the 1970s love

Growing up in the 1970s was a fun time.  Aside from my daily attempts in creating various flying apparatuses, I had this amazing machine that took me everywhere with the pumping of its pedals.  It only had an emergency brake, but it was employed when it was absolutely necessary, which was never.  Its colors were a daring yellow, patriotic blue, and powerful red.  The machine had an adjustable seat, and for decoration, streamers sprouted from its handles.

This powerful, glorious machine was called a Big Wheel because the front and back wheels were…well…BIG.  They ran over anything in their path, flattening these things as thin as tracing paper.

Many mornings if I wasn’t scraping my metal-wheeled roller skates (I got the rubber wheels later) across the asphalt at six a.m. (you know the neighbors loved that), I’d hop on my power vehicle and pedal down the side walk (or pavement, depending on where we were living at the time), ready to ride the day away.

If anyone tried to harass me by chasing after me via foot or bike, I’d take off on my trusty Big Wheel, squealing out of the vicinity, sparks snapping off my back monster wheels, a dusty cloud floating in my wake.  Blind from the dust and stunned by the super sonic speed of my Big Wheel, my bullies were left to wallow in defeat.

Years later when I no longer could fully fit in the seat of my beloved machine, I’d clasp its worn handles, place one sneaker on its seat, and push with the other, transforming it into a type of stylish and speedy scooter.  Alas, eventually, my trusty transport had to retire and live with its buddies in the hallowed halls of Big Wheel Memories…memories that stay with me forever.

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