Whatever holiday you celebrate or don’t at this time of year I wish you a season of peace and joy.
Shalom, Rochelle
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
David Bayard is doing it again. Today, Saturday, November 21, 2020 from 11:00 am to 5:00 pm! A virtual arts festival! Come to David’s Festival Page and meet the artists (including Yours Truly). The interviews will be run simultaneously on Facebook Live here: https://www.facebook.com/SkyboyPhotos. Check out David’s new calendar and handcrafted holders.
Be sure to visit my art page. Lots of prints and originals to choose from as well as a large selection of note cards!
While I wouldn’t refer to myself as a veteran art fair participant, I’ve entered a few over the past three years. My first fair was Corks and Canvas in Blue Springs, Missouri. At the time I was working on the illustrations for A Stone for the Journey, the coffee table companion to my historical trilogy. It had been suggested that I have some of those illustrations printed to market by themselves.
Click picture for more info on my published books. 😉
The publisher asked for 200 full color illustrations. As it turned out, I had more than that and had to edit a few out. This started me on a journey of a different nature. From writing to painting. Once the book’s illustrations were complete, my itchy paintbrush begged for more. I found that I enjoy the challenge of painting glass. Thus, my wine glass paintings were born. The following year I had a series of wine glass notecards printed to market at Corks and Canvas.
From glass I went to seascapes. And, you guessed it, seascapes AND wine glasses.
Original Painting – 11 x 14 – framed – $450.00
Mind you, I’m still writing and my novel with working title “Last Dance with Annie” is represented by agent Diane Nine . And of course there’s always Friday Fictioneers.
When asked which I would rather do, write or paint, my reply is always the same. “Yes.”
Last year’s art fair challenges involved recalcitrant weather patterns. It was so windy in June I spent most of my time at the Corks and Canvas fair chasing cards and prints across the pavement. Then came the UNPlaza art fair that I had done very well at in 2018. Not so in the torrential rainstorm of 2019. Nonetheless, we sent our applications for these fairs again in 2020. Sigh.
I don’t need to go into detail about the pandammit (thank you, Dale) but one by one, the fairs were cancelled. What’s a person to do but paint more? Below are some paintings from the past month. Busy hands are happy hands. 😉 Soon available in print. And the originals are also for sale. 😉
Surely, by September things would open back up so I pinned my hopes on good weather and UNPlaza, renamed Peaceworks KC Art Fair. However, word went round that this one, too, would bite the dust. But the planners came up with the brilliant idea of making it a virtual fair through an upcoming platform called Booth Central.
David Bayard, photographer and poet extraordinaire, took it upon himself to work out the details. He rounded the troops via Zoom and helped each of us familiarize ourselves with Booth Central. Through the fair he kept things going with a streaming video for two days that you can still watch if you click the Booth Central link. Through this endeavor, I can safely say that David has become a good friend.
Click David’s photo to learn more about him and his art.
While not the most lucrative endeavor, the fair turned out to be a lot of fun, so David decided to host another fair in October using Booth Central. This time one day and there were ten participants, including Yours Truly. Again he interviewed us throughout the day. The recording of the livestream from this past Saturday can be seen here. My segments are at 1:28 and 4:05 roughly. If you have the time, the other artists are fascinating.
Below are photos lifted from my interviews with David and the finished product of my Saturday labor.
We’re going to be doing another fair Saturday, November 21. Same time and place. 11:00 AM to 5:00 PM CST. No worry over weather or price of gas. I had customer drop by my booth to video chat from Maryland. I hope you’ll come visit us and stop by my booth.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
As fewer and fewer Holocaust survivors remain in our midst, it seems easier to forget. It’s not taught in schools and increasing numbers of misinformed believe the Holocaust never happened.
INTERVIEW WITH PRISONER A5714
Remember Robert Clary as LeBeau of Stalag 13? Hogan’s shortest hero? The connoisseur of French cuisine.
He reminisces about the rabbi who helped him study for his Bar Mitzvah. “He smelled of schmaltz, herring, onion and garlic.”
“Ah food.”
He shrugs. “In Buchenwald we had little to eat. I sang for the prisoners and sometimes the chef in the kitchen gave me an extra piece of bread.”
“What’s your greatest achievement? Performing?”
“No. I’m most proud to have spent twenty years keeping the memory of the Holocaust alive. Warning against man’s inhumanity. While I am living, I have to tell.”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
“I was a baby when Mr. Roach hired me,” says George McFarland. “They still call me Spanky.”
Ernie grins. “I was one of the first back in the days before talkies. Sunshine Sammy, that was me.”
“I was Butch. The bully in the gang.” Tommy Bond adds with a twinkle in his eye, “Guess I had the scowl for it.”
Matthew Beard strokes his bald head, looking very much like little Stymie. “We was just kids. We went to school and played together. Black or white didn’t matter. Hal Roach loved kids.”
“Great times,” says Ernie. “I’d do it again.”
***
Tommy “Butch” Bond
Matthew “Stymie” Beard
Ernest “Sunshine Sammy” Morrison
Hal Roach
*Some may remember the “Our Gang Comedy” or, as it later became known in syndication “The Little Rascals.” Some may not. For a bit of a lengthy history CLICK HERE.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
No matter what your political leanings, it’s a compelling book about a longstanding relationship between two women. I loved it from cover to cover.
I must read this book soon!
Kathleen M. Rodgers, one of the most generous people I know.
With fear and trembling I sent my manuscript of my latest novel with working title WHAT THE HEART WANTS and a book proposal to her. When we spoke November 4, Diane opened the conversation with what every author dreams of hearing from a potential agent, “I loved your manuscript or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
So far the book has been turned down a few times but, knowing Diane loves it, assures me she’ll find the right home for Bear Starfire and Asher Gorovich.
Here is short summary. (Yes, I’ve posted this before and might post it again. 😉 )
In 1879, Eastern Europe is a hotbed of Antisemitism. In the midst of a pogrom, a government sanctioned massacre against the Jews, sixteen-year old Asher Gorovich witnesses the slaughter of his father, the blacksmith in his Polish village. Life doesn’t improve for him as he endures more persecution and loss of other loved ones.
Meanwhile, in America, eleven-year-old Bear Starfire is torn from her family and forced to attend St. Salvinus Indian boarding school. There she is stripped of her culture and endures both emotional and physical cruelty at the hands of staff members.
When these two wounded hearts meet will they find more conflict or the answer to their prayers?
Bear Starfire on the Wings of the Wind
Enter the Quarantine. Yeah, as much as I’ve avoided writing about it, it is the proverbial elephant in the room (and all over the media). For those of you who remember elephant jokes, you can tell he’s there by the peanuts on his breath.
As per Diane’s strong suggestion, I’ve worked on my Twitter presence. You can follow me @RochelleFields 😉 At any rate, that’s how I met Jimmy Leonard, a young man with a podcast entitled “World on Fire”. In April he emailed saying I fit the profile of someone with a passion and asked if I’d be willing to do an interview on Zoom. Although we did the interview on April 22, it didn’t go “live” until mid June.
We spoke for at least 45 minutes. Please excuse my cluttered background. That’s my environment. Unfortunately, the above portion about meeting Diane and WHAT THE HEART WANTS didn’t make the final edit.
Disclaimer: I had no idea what his intro would be. Although, I think Mr. Leonard makes some good points and it is his podcast.
Keep in mind, we spoke in April. Our topics were my artwork, Friday Fictioneers and the novel I’m currently working on and am three-fourths of the way through. My interview begins about 11:36 into it.
Re his “off the wall” question, “If you could paint a portrait of any person, living or dead, who would it be?” This took me by surprise, because I’ve done quite a few portraits. For whatever reason, the first person who popped into my overloaded mind was Maya Angelou, a woman I greatly admire. What’s not to admire?
Nu? I had to put my paintbrush where my mouth was, right? Of course right!
Once upon a time, eight years ago to be exact, I was a fledgling author with a newly published short story anthology. I’d recently started a blog and occasionally received more than two comments on my posts! Sigh.
One April Wednesday morning in 2012 as I scrolled through my Facebook feed I saw a notice on the Ozarks Writers League, OWL, page from someone named Madison Woods. It was a reminder that it was time for Friday Fictioneers, a weekly blog challenge that would change the course of my life.
(I had a lot to learn about commenting and reciprocation 😉 )
Who knew that six months later I’d be adopting Madison’s baby? Enough of that! The purpose of this post is to introduce you to the lady, author and artist who birthed the idea of Friday Fictioneers.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
As a journalist, I’ve looked forward to my assignment in the island paradise of Tonga—interview deportees.
Uhila sets aside his machete. Sun through the palm trees beats down on his bare back littered with tattoos. “My dad was God. I couldn’t fight God, so I fought everyone else.”
Taking notes, I ache for the hurting child inside the man until he says, “I shot a guy for looking at me wrong—four times in the stomach. Now I’m the trash California State threw away.” He mops his brow with his forearm. “Here I don’t know shit about nothing.”
A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.
WAR WOUND
In research for a character in my novel-in-progress, I’ve watched some You Tube interviews with Vietnam veterans. Recently, one in particular captured my attention. The gentleman, who’s had a successful career as an actor since his discharge, spoke candidly of his deployment and subsequent wounding.
“Thirty years later, after bouts of alcoholism and depression I sought help for PTSD and found healing.”
He shrugged. “Thanks for your service? What does that mean? I get it. You mean well.” His voice caught in his throat and my breath caught in mine when he said, “I like best what we vets say to each other since we didn’t hear it when we came back, ‘Welcome home.’”
