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Pssssssst! I have a secret to share.... There is nothing wrong with your world. Fix the vibration. l o v e

a good word revolution

From our vantage point, one positive word can make all the difference in the world. One positive view possesses the power to transform. It is our forever hope that among the thousands of words we illuminate, one will resonate and shift the vantage point of the receiver to a view of the world that vaporizes for at least a brief moment any and all negative emotion they ever could have visualized. l o V e!

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Tuesday, February 26, 2013

smashwords got me going in c i r c l e s

Hula Hooping. I did it! I passed the Hoopnotica I curriculum. Shut - up! Super excited! So excited that I penned and published an alphabet book for hula hoopers! I want to share my j o y with you! 


This fabulous hooping alphabet - H is for Halo  is now available for free this week on Smashwords. Smashwords lets you download books to almost any e-reader. Hot!




to play with this new word list
  • register in Smashwords 
  • u s e  FREE code for YG72P
  • e n j o y words  
  • s h a r e
  • r e v i e w  


We love posting pages of the pictureless books everywhere. 



You are fabulous! 

love

Look what Farmer Guy got me! A wooden hula hoop. Fabulous! Right? 


Kind of ready to sign - up for more classes. What do you think?

Thursday, February 14, 2013

h OO p y Valentine's

Listening to "What's Going On?", Marvin Gaye on Sade Pandora thinking about the journey and its fabulous detours. This past summer while my son attended a pre-college program at Pratt Institute the girls detoured to Girl Month.

Girl month.

We listened to audio books.

We made s m o o t h i e s, salads and soups.

We cleaned.

We called our girlfriends.

We did spa treatments. We scrubbed. We s t e a m e d. We hair straightened with Agave.

We road tripped. We spiked in Alpine. We shopped in Lubbock.

We worked out- girl look at that body.
Insanity, Zumba, Walking, Belly Dancing, Socacize, African Healing.

We ate c h o c o l a t e (good chocolate).

We fell in l o v e with Hugh Grant because we watched chick flicks.
Who knew that Julia and Jennifer had soooooo many movie credits?

When watching film, we integrated ab words (Of course, we played with words!). Like a drinking game, when the chosen word was said by a character- we hit the deck and did crunches. That got old quickly!

What else could we do that was ab - licious and fun?

It seemed like when I asked the q u e s t i o n, it appeared.

TE's exer-app updated on her FB page. You know the kind: TE just hula hooped for 10 minutes, and is now extra fabulous.

Hula Hooped? Really? And the point of that was what?
Jump roped for ten minutes... I got. Ran for ten minutes, uh yeah. Hula Hooped... mmmmm?

So I messaged her.
She responded.

The next night before the double feature, we went to the sporting good's store and bought a couple of hoops. With l i g h t s!

When ab words began. We hooped. We went to tennis courts and hooped instead. We replaced our morning Insanity class with hooping for obvious reasons. We just hooped.

It was then that I noticed an influx of elimination. TMI, but we love healthy number two elimination. I researched. Apparently the hoop massaging the c o r e and its internals did more than p u m p up the heart rate. Somehow my internet search lead me to a video of a beautiful masterful Black hoop artist, hoop dancing to "My Chick Bad".

I wanted to do that. We turned off the dvd and turned on the music. We tried.

Realization. People couldn't just DO that. I was gonna need a teacher.

Three months later, Farmer Guy handed me a b o x. A box with everything needed to become a licensed and certified Hula Hoop instructor from Hoopnotica! Shut-up!

Now I'm h o o k e d on hooping. So of course I needed beautiful hooping w o r d s! Introducing my new favorite p i c t u r e l e s s alphabet book.

H is for Halo available on Smashwords.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/284241
h OO p y Valentine's & Happy Hooping!

Monday, February 4, 2013

a m a z i n g


What is it?


People always ask, "What exactly is this w o r d thing?"

Here's the short answer (I think), "I want a word, any word, your word to make you feel fabulous!" I have seen it happen over and over again, and I want to share with e v e r y o n e. That's all for n o w.

l o v e

Friday, February 1, 2013

o n l y & l o o p e r s

MaRose called last evening to c h a t about how for years she had desired to work Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. o n l y.

Which made me launch into this tale-

On October 12, 1992 at 1pm, I met a guy. He spouted slapstick h u m o r (not the pie in the face kind, but the kind that made you wanna end each line with air drummer fists and a buddut shish). We shared our intentions for sitting on the l i l a c leather chairs in the reception area at the old old Houston Press on Bering at San Felipe. Cardboard for the move already lined the walls quasi blocking our area from an adjacent filing room.

I was there because of my aspirations to write. He was there because one day he wanted to receive an ADDY  (whatever that was) for his phenomenal and a w a r d winning advertising agency. AAA or Triple A, the agency named as such for Alfred's Amazing or Artistic Advertising would bear the logo of the Spanish Cervantes crest donned with A's throughout. Les jeunes!

It reminded me of when Awkward Black Girl realized that CC was awkward, too. My brain and my head voices couldn't compartmentalize this f e l l o w, but I knew he was friend.

Steven Barnes reminded us just today to c h o o s e our friends wisely.

Friend and I received our peon tasks as advertising assistants. Uh, what had I been thinking I don't even know this town. I worked for "the third largest paper in the fourth largest city in the United States of America" as friend would often emphasize to me. Rarely had I driven past Jones Road on 290 from Prairie View, and now I had signed up to gallivant about Houston points unknown?

No worries. Friend took one look at my face and offered his extra key map. Even then he held an affection for the severely local except for his whip. When it was apparent that I didn't even know what a key map was, he took out a paper and drew a circle.

"This is the loop."

Squiggles through 610 and scribbled cross streets later, I entered my own bohemian odyssey.

Fast forward a couple of years. Friend went to work in film. I met a boy, and moved to Paris.

At some point between the two, t r a j e c t o r y began. There were wrap parties and screenings and editing suites in posh hotels. Remember the wrap at Dave & Busters with the fabulous Aussie, Jack Thompson days before my move to France?

Friend shared his Houston with me.

He had an extra sensory perception to know where the best of Houston played, with the best music jamming, that coincidentally served the best tapas.

Who knew about rolling napkins down bottles to toss around the Last Concerts Cafe? Carolyn Wonderland? Flamin' Hellcats?

Fast forward a couple of decades. I have seen Alfred at least a few times each of those twenty years. Even our children have chosen to be friends. The journey has been rich.

He's the only person in my feed who's social media status updates indicate the pulse of Houston.

He's the only reason I agreed or even proposed to assist in planning a Free Minds, Free People in Houston. He's the only reason I agreed to host a local film room at said Social Justice conference.

He's the only person that I've seen soooo super committed to promoting H-town's fabulous scene consistently for the last twenty years.

He's the ambassador of art perfection Houston. He shares his Houston with us, and the world.

When Alfred text that he would be receiving the Only in Houston award.  It made perfect sense. Alfred is pretty much one of the Onlys in Houston. Wouldn't you agree?

It was when he emailed the announcement did I have a moment, a mind movie flashback kind of moment. Like a down the rabbit hole time travel Looper loop! "This is the loop." The you from twenty years ago, you.

I love listening to loops. I love watching loops. Like when D set an agenda to acquire an a g e n t and she did. Or when the Girl on Fire, Carnival Performer, OT pitched an intention last Spring to create a mobile South American juice bar and she did. Or when S expressed the desire to learn the vernacular of academia published her team's research in a Canadian journal this week.

Life is sooooooo delicious! Right?

"This is the loop."

Intentions and full circles and hula hoops.

Alfred subjected the email- Seventh "Only in Houston"

"More people have walked on the moon." [Or not.] From the movie Farmer Guy and I watched the previous night, Up in the Air.

"Award to be given at the 51st American Advertising Federation-Houston ADDY Awards..."

This is the loop. 

Farmer Guy always says, "If one just does the work and stays out of the way- it unfolds how it should."

MaRose and Alfred have closed a loop!

Has the rainmaker placed an order to close more?

Which loop would you like to close? 


e n v i s i o n
w o r k
c e l e b r a t e


Alfred Cervantes, Friend, this o n l y ' s for you!


Gil Scott-Heron - 'I'm New Here' (official video)

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

a n g e l

l o v e

instigated by Fabulous a r n z e n



"Exploit universal fears." -Mike
Arnzen

My mentor asked me to study voice in characters that live long after the book is finished. She suggested that I read Sharon Creech's Walk Two Moons. I collect Newberry Medal books so I happened to have one on the shelf, although I had not yet read it. I took out a highlighter and started to mark things that I found interesting about Sal, the main character's, voice.

Certain words and phrases indicated to the reader which personality was talking. 'Huzza, huzza' let the reader know that Gram was talking. 'That's what I am trying to tell you' was one of Phoebe's favorite expressions. Ms. Partridge, the blind neighbor made up words. And Sal always prefaced sentences with 'peculiar'. Sal's voice was the most distinct.

Duh, character building 101, you might say. I did. Surely that was not the variable that would make a character's voice live on forever. I continued to search.

I read to the eleventh chapter, (Is that like the eleventh hour?) Flinching. A conversation takes place between Ben and Sal:

"Don't people touch each other at your house?" (Ben)
"What's that supposed to mean?" (Sal)
"I just wondered," he said. "You flinch every time someone touches you." (Ben)

In the middle of the chapter, on the middle of the page, I froze. I became incredibly sad. I haven't cried while reading a book since I read Bridge to Terabithia ten years ago. There I sat with tears filling my eyes.

When was the last time I had touched my own children? When was the last time someone had touched me? Those checked out okay. But when was the last time someone had touched my Aunt Marie in the nursing home? Or war vets in the VA hospital? It made me remember that one project of the infant monkey that died from lack of contact.


It was actually a universal fear displayed within a frame of twenty-five words. This would be the sole reason I would remember the resilient Sal and her peculiar voice forever.

Arnzen was right! He's kind of f a b u l o u s!

http://tinyurl.com/b4zkr5m Be an instigator, support the Fridge of the Damned poetry magnet kickstarter.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

s p a c e

Satiate. Scrumptious. Succulent. Silly! Ah the savory word. Our books are best, we believe, when devoured. Not just read aloud. Spoken. Saved. Swallowed. And not just in the moment of reading the book. Lived. We are moved beyond measure by the thought of these words finding a way into our readers lives. S is for Space. Own your space. (from A is for Angel, our talisman.)

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

w i l d w i l d w e s t

Blerdesses love W e s t e r n s! I can't point my finger, yet, as to why. Oh, a [b l e r d e s s] is a female version of a b l e r d.

Westerns are not the most politically correct genre, nor, arguably, the most heady. Why DO we like?

Blerd girls play in alternate realities which makes tons of sense.

Star Wars ultimately models as a Western - which makes even more sense. Ask f a b u l o u s blerdess, Mellody Hobson?

Hot guy, Common, had a recent role in the TV Western, Hell on Wheels- which makes THE most sense.

Da haahh, da haahh
da ha-hahh- ha-hahh haahh!

I can't blerd chic my way to a logical conclusion of why blerd girls f a n c y Westerns. 

Aside from the o b v i o u s genetic component... our daddys' loved Westerns. Now we do. Background music to our lazy Saturday afternoon memories stream intro TV s p a g h e t t i Western theme songs.

Sasha and I texted on this topic during my recent holiday travels. There were too many components of Western life that we agreed that blerds adored. We realized that an entire month could be dedicated to blogging this intriguing pairing.
That was when I confessed that my favorite holiday d e s t i n a t i o n was not:
the Stratton Salon s p a trip,
or the m a g n i f i c e n t Tea Room,
or the s t e a m y hot springs at Trimble,
or even the m a g i c a l Silverton Cascade Canyon trip.
En route to Colorado...
I was extra excited to meet-up with the amazing a n g e l Adrea during the second leg of the Westward Ho annual Texas / Colorado road trip and a teeny bit excited about devouring precious p a r a n o r m a l pancakes- blue corn pinion bubbling with pine nuts at Santa Fe Baking Company and Cafe



Then a magnificent diversion occurred in New Mexico. 

The sign read: 

Billy the Kid's REAL resting place. 


d i v e r s i o n!!! 


Regulators, Let's Ride! 

I t r e a s u r e my own favorite Western, Young Guns featuring my own favorite cowboy, William H. Bonney.  

Back and forth through the town we searched for the REAL resting place of The Kid taking clues from confusing colorfully numbered town maps and official highway markers. 


Torn, I lamented aloud, "We don't have to go. If we can't find it this time, we should at least make it to the Baking Company," followed by tumbling exasperated sighs. 


Farmer Guy kept looking. Highly unusual for the 'let's get to where we are going- minimal meandering Farmer Guy. 


Ultimately he admitted, that in no way would he want to hear that dramatic monologue for the rest of his life, ”We were so close to Billy the Kid..." Followed by years of tumbling exasperated s i g h s.



Lo and behold! He found it! 

I was tickled to giddy. I read William's letters. I photographed everything. 


I saw the PALS tombstone. Shut - up! 





Farmer Guy thought there may have been some past life r o m a n t i c horseplay between me and the Kid. Impossible, because he's still, what, alive. 





Blerds also love people who are not really dead, but naysayers believe otherwise, but that's a whole ‘nother month of posts.


Tonto, jump on it, jump on it, jump on it...
Kemosabi, jump on it, jump on it, jump on it... Custer, jump on it, jump on it, jump on it...Apache, jump on it, jump on it, jump on it...wowowowowowowowowowowowowoA- hunga-hunga-hunga-hunga!!!


love

Kool Moe Dee - Wild Wild West

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

w o r d s instead of resolutions???


What will you be and become in 2013? How about using focus w o r d s instead of resolutions to get the job done? Pick three words and post them everywhere in your world. Let's goooooooooo! 

Be the word you wish to see in this world! 

love

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

h a p p y m e r r y!

t o p ten p i c t u r e l e s s countries. thank you for reading this blog & our w o r d s! 


United States

Russia

Germany

Canada

United Kingdom

Poland

United Arab Emirates

Australia

Indonesia

China


l o v e you!

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Baby Can I hold you

w o r d s on no w o r d s

"there are no words" read the status update of one of our pictureless' friends. It was my first indication that something went wrong in the world. 

Hours later I spoke with one of our Connecticut pictureless' tween babies.

"Ms. Teffanie, we are okay."


"Oh, yeah. What happened?"

She explained her understanding, her version, of the atrocity.

At home we didn't talk about it. We prepared for dinner, band practice and a thirteen year old's gymnastic birthday party. I shared with them the Christmas carol mall flash mob my fabulous boss sent me earlier.

"Mom, did you hear what happened?"


"What happened, Baby?"

She explained her understanding, her version, of the atrocity.

I still had no words. I would need some soon, and I couldn't continue to rely on tweens for the 411. Eventually, I would be expected to make a statement to have words as is the nature of all of my chosen professions.

Over the weekend I read the New York Times and I listened by the facebook water cooler. The words were there. People had lots of words to create their understanding, their version, of chaos. 


They weren't mine. 

I didn't want words from national leaders not standing on the educational front line. I didn't want words that voiced people's response to those politicians.


I didn't want words of where God was allowed, or not.

I didn't want words of fashion solidarity protocols of hoodies, and colors, and ribbons to don. Within moments, three different posts announcing five different colors to be worn on Monday popped onto my feed.

I didn't want words about gun control or mental illness or gun control and mental illness. 


I kind of wanted words of Scandal... What did happen to the other shooter?  I still knew that it wouldn't bring relevancy to my world or prompt the words I needed to make sense.

Monday, the day arrived. I still didn't have a single word let alone a statement. What had I said in the past? I am from the 254... we lived through Luby's, we lived through Darnell. 


Nothing.

You can't stop will. That's all I had or some variation of it.

What do we tell the students?

You can't stop will.


Should we lock the doors? Should we post people at the entry ways? Should we arm teachers?

Review Crisis Management. You can't stop will.


It was my answer to it all. Poor leadership. Poor words.

Maybe... there WERE no words.

Then Tracy's melody began, and in seconds the notes floated outside of my head all Calista Flockhart style. Not Brothers & Sisters, Calista Flockhart, Ally McBeal, Calista.

Sorry 
is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like sorry like s o r r y

Forgive me
is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like forgive me f o r g i v e me

But you can say baby
Baby can I hold you tonight
Maybe if I told you the right words
As the right time you'd be mine

I love you
Is all that you can't say
Years gone by and still
Words don't come easily
Like I love you I l o v e you


There they were. 


s o r r y 
f o r g i v e 
l o v e

The forgiveness stood out. I thought of the Amish. Remember when a milkman killed five girls in an Amish schoolhouse. The Amish of that community immediately displayed ginormous forgiveness to the shooter and kindness to his family.


It was so bizarre, yet so b e a u t i f u l.

For date night a few months back Farmer Guy and I viewed the documentary, The Amish. We both remembered the same man. He indicated that he didn't want to be the judge of something like that. That wasn't his job. It resonated and had relevance. 

Sorry, Forgive, and Love


I am so sorry that this happened on my watch. 


I forgive the Lanzas'. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 26 times I love you.

l o v e 

Friday, November 30, 2012

Words are Things! Lesson Plan



Words are Things
Mood and Metaphor
Tools:

Dictionary, Basket of Same Six Words, Index Cards, Writing Utensils

Set up:

Prior to class:

Place a single index card on each student seating area. Place a sample near the front on a desk.

Create zones (in different room areas) with post it notes for each word.
Write bolded underlined info on boards left to right beginning with first.
As students enter classroom allow them to draw a word from basket. Direct them to draw what they drew.  Allow settling time.
Introduction of self


Warm-up
Draw the word you drew on a card.  Make a visual representation of that word.
When you select your word- write the word in the center of the card and begin to draw what that word feels like.

pictureless
Words brighten my day!

Let me let you in on a secret.  Words are things, and I have proof.  Who can tell me the definition of a noun? What for response. That is correct. Person, place or thing. I have a sentence on the board. What’s the noun in this sentence. Words! Is it a person? Is it a place? It’s a thing. So today we are going to create more proof of this statement words are things by using metaphors to create a sensory poem.

Lesson
Words can allow writers and readers to bring in mood.

MOOD: The words used in a piece of writing with the intention of evoking a certain emotion or feeling from the reader.      Reference sentence.

METAPHOR: A comparison of two different things to create figurative language to imply likeness. A simile is a metaphor using the words "like," "as" or "as if."

Things have particular attributes that we can also give to words through our senses using metaphors. The word I have to use often is focus and I’ve given it some thing-like characteristics.

Focus is clear
Focus sounds like radio station static when driving from one Texas town to the next. 
Focus smells like the day before the rain.
Focus tastes like air and 
It looks like the light.  The light at the end of the tunnel. 
Focus feels like shoulders up. 
Focus is clear

Let’s do one together: love, wealth, fun, kisses.  Take class responses
You can do the same with your word by creating a sensory poem on the back of your card. Talk them through this, then give time for extra response. Explain that their simile can be one word or many to get to the point.


Name your positive word is and finish with a color
Name the word Sounds like...
Name the word Smells like...
Name the word Tastes like..., and
It Looks like... 
Name the word Feels like...
Name a positive word is and finish with a color



On the front of your card write the word... then add the mood you just created with your sensory poem.

On the back write your poem.

Start music play video while work walk around and pass out stickers.


Extension and Technology Inclusion
When the exercise is finished have the same word students congregate in that word’s area that was assigned with the post-it notes.  Allow them to share results. Cards can be arranged for phone photos for screensavers or to post to twitter: @toimaginemore and fb: https://www.facebook.com/pictureless

In longer classes take volunteers to act (silently mime) out the word – Name that word.

Talk about purpose as it relates to life.


Close class with t h a n k s.

see samples on this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0h8eAQUtrug&noredirect=1