Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Steady Going By Christine Renaudin Two months into summer,three in retirement,one more kiss of the sun. I am starting to feel the change in ways that do not rub me wrong, like a shirt grown too tight,or a pair of new shoes I am settling into a certain ease I didn’t know before, or I had forgotten.There is hardly any rushing through things unless absolutely necessary in case of an emergency. I walk the dog daily. Three months into summer,four in retirement,signs abound, changes beckon. I have trouble remembering what I did on a given day, and I resort to lists to keep track of the books I’ve read and places I’ve gone, so I can tell people when they are kind enough to ask.Morning and afternoon melt in one another.I glide along sweaty, in blissful…
Tag: Christine Renaudin
Just Do It
Do it! Do it in secret or in the open, do it with your heart. Share what you care to share and process the rest into more writing, or painting, or dancing, or living your everyday life. Don’t worry too much about a final product, there isn’t one, even when you call a piece done and, say, publish it. It could always be refined, rewritten. Get on to something and pursue it as many times, in as many ways as it takes it for you to feel done with it—for a while, at least—decide if and what you want to share, when and how, and start a new one. Christine Renaudin lives, writes, and paints in Petaluma, CA. She is also a dancer and performs occasionally in the Bay Area. She likes to mix art forms and makes a living teaching literature, creativity, and performance. Originally published in The Write…
A Patch of Joy
By Christine Renaudin Slowly the idea grew from seemingly random pickings at the local thrift store a month or two ago, to design a painting along the seams of a small piece of patchwork discovered in the sewing notions section. Bold colors and markings drew me in, sharp contrasts, black acting as prevailing background: yellow on black, and vice versa, bright colors in between, the kind I have dreamed of playing with but never dared throwing first thing together on canvas. Circles and crosses, stars and stripes, straight and curvy, thin and think, flowers, abstracted and not, leaves, pink and red, bees and dragonflies, plain black on white: all patterns placed side by side in surprising, shockingly daring ways that made my mind bubble with joy, and my heart dance with the desire to play along. I bought the small rectangle of motley fabric and brought it home, where it sat abandoned in my grandmother’s…