Poetry Train Monday - 109 - We Keep Watch

Once upon a time - 25 years ago, in fact - the first Tall Ships festival arrived in my city of Halifax, Nova Scotia. The year was 1984, I was 19 years old and my sister was 16.

We were both already attracted to Russia before we strolled down with the hordes to gaze in awe at the forest of masts that transformed our port into a time warp. So it was thrilling to walk towards the star of the festival, the largest ship whose home port was Tallinn in Estonia, which in 1984 was still a part of the Soviet Union.

Thus began one of the most magical, incredible chapters of my life (and more so for my sister.)

Because the Iron Curtain was still solidly in place, public access to the Kruzenshtern was highly controlled by Soviet authorities. Whereas the crews of the other ships were free to roam all over the city according to their ships' shore leave policy, the crew of the Kruzenshtern only set foot on dry land in supervised groups, and that was mainly to take part in a walking parade, one stroll around the downtown area, and one dance at the Metro Center.

My sister and I made sure we were with them for every one of these - because on that first night we stood and talked to the incredibly charming and insanely handsome sailor standing at the foot of the gangplank for the evening.

His name was Rashid Kamalov.



















L to R: Rashid, my sister Michelle and Vitaly

It may have taken more than a moment. I'm not sure. But my sister and Rashid connected immediately. Their romance was very short-lived, because political reality made it nearly impossible to pursue. But I can assure you they tried.

For today's Poetry Train Monday, as an elaborate piece of blank verse/found poetry, I have transcribed a conversation I tape recorded while we were chatting on deck with Rashid and his friend, Yuri Bondaryenko. Yuri is referred to as Yura in the same way as a Robert would be called Bobby.

This conversation took place during our second chunk of time together. After sailing out of Halifax, the Tall Ships visited ports along the St. Lawrence and into the Great Lakes, including Montreal and Toronto. Before crossing the Atlantic to France, the Tall Ships visited Sydney, Nova Scotia. Nothing would keep Michelle away from Rashid, so we drove up there with a friend of mine and stayed at her aunt's, and for the final few days, at a camp ground when my friend had to return to work.

What an impossibly joyous reunion it was. The whole ship knew about us and welcomed us with incredibly sweet hospitality. Yuri and I knew without saying anything at all that we would both do everything in our power to make sure Michelle and Rashid could spend every second possible with each other.

Here is part of that magical time we shared.



















L to R: Yuri, Rashid and Michelle


We Keep Watch


Michelle - That's from the Canada Maritime (a ship in the festival.)

Yuri - Oh!

Rashid - (translating for Yuri into Russian)

Julia - We were on it.

Michelle - Listen, listen. Look at this. This says Michelle - I am now a member of their crew.

Yuri - Canada Maritime!

Rashid - (translating)

Michelle - I spoke to...

Yuri - Exchange...I...to...Kruzenshtern? Yeah?

Michelle - Tomorrow.

Yuri - (in Russian, indicating 'this?')

Michelle - Yes. I need this to walk on the dock. To see you off. But! We will exchange them.

Yuri - Mmm!

Michelle - I asked him...Pete, from Canada Maritime to take me here. He says, 'Wait!' He gave me a pass!

Yuri - (laughter)

Michelle - I said 'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' He asked me, do I want to come to Liverpool? On the Canada Maritime. I said yes. But he said 'You have to share my bunk.'

Rashid - (laughter)

Michelle - I said, 'What?!? No way, baby.'

Yuri - Give me please, ah, dictionary.

Julia - Do you have it?

Michelle - Hey, are those...?

Julia - Oh! It's in the car. Yeah. Yeah. I left it with your address.

Rashid - Michelle, Michelle. I want...give you...cigarettes. Okay?

Michelle - For Vicky. My friend Vicky.

Rashid - For Vicky (translates into Russian) Okay? Now.

Yuri - (in Russian, disapproves) Very strong. No...for girls.

Rashid - Very strong! (laughs)

Yuri - For men!

Julia - (laughs) No!

Rashid - Okay...yes?

Yuri - Very strong.

Julia - Not this girl.

Yuri - Oh. I see. I don't know. For men. For seamen, for seamen. In the ocean. (makes coughing noise)

Michelle - Yura, Julia and I think you are very funny.

Julia - Ha, ha, ha!

Michelle - Ha, ha! Funny! Yura, you are our very good friend.

Yuri - (laughs) Okay. You are, too.

Julia - We spoke with Pete, from Canada Maritime.

Yuri - Yeah?

Julia - About you going on. He said the captain of the Kruzenshtern...

(Michelle & Julia laugh at the look on Yuri's face)

(Rashid returns with two packs of Russian cigarettes)

Michelle - My God. Two. She...Vicky will be very happy.

Yuri - Ah...?

Julia - He said, ah, he asked the captain. It's too late.

Yuri - Our?

Julia - Yeah.

(Yuri tries to light a cigarette but the match goes out)

Yuri - Wind.

Michelle - (sees that the recorder is on) Hey, Jule...this is...

Julia - Yeah. I know.

(Michelle & Julia giggle)

Yuri - Record. Recorder. Yeah?

Julia - Yeah.

Michelle - Yeah.

Julia - That's okay, isn't it?

Yuri - Let's...listen...music.

Julia - Music?

Michelle - There's music down there.

Yuri - Yeah (but not caring for it)

Michelle - He doesn't like that music.

Julia - You want Michael Jackson.

Yuri - Oh! Do you have? Okay!

Rashid - (laughs)

Yuri - I keep watch...on...chart...room. Now, I. I keep watch in chart room.

Julia - Then what are you doing here?

Rashid - (laughs hard)

Michelle - Why are you here?

Rashid - (translates into Russian)

Yuri - Yeah, yeah, yeah...

Julia - I like this chart room.

Michelle - (laughs)

Rashid - (laughs) Very nice watch.

Julia - Lots of charts.

Michelle - Look at all those charts.

Yuri - Julia, where is umbrella? Is umbrella?

Michelle - Ah, we don't need it.

Julia - In the car.

Yuri - Ah...rain?

Michelle - It's not raining.

Yuri - (to Rashid, in Russian, then - ) If...rain? Go?

Julia - Then, we'll get wet.

Yuri - (amused noise) Okay.

(Yuri & Rashid speak in Russian)

Julia - When the sun was going down, all the clouds went away.

Michelle - Your officers. Watch.

Yuri - Okay. Come.

(more sailors approach - Yuri & Rashid giggle)

Julia - Wow. More apples!

Michelle - Thank you. Spasiba! (Russian for 'thank you')

Rashid - (delighted laugh)

Yuri - Without action. Spaciba. She say without action, spaciba.














Rashid and Michelle



Rashid - You say spaciba very, very well.

Yuri - Repeat, please. Spaciba. In Russian.

Michelle - Spaciba.

Yuri - Okay! (giggles)

Rashid - (admiring) Oh!

Julia - You mean I'm not supposed to say 'spaseeba'?

Yuri - Ah, ah, small, small action. 'Spaciba.'

Michelle & Julia - Spaciba.

Yuri - Ah...where is Michael Jackson?

Michelle - Ah...in California.

Yuri - I see! I see!

Michelle & Julia - (laugh)

Julia - In the United States.

Yuri - Ah! In the United States! He live...in the United States. Yeah.

Michelle - We're funny gals. Well guess what?

Julia - We asked Rashid what he watches up here. He goes, 'I don't know!'

Michelle & Julia - (giggle)

Rashid - I say, 'I look...our officers.'

Yuri - (laughs hard)

Julia - Yeah, like...do you do this when you're at sea? Do you stand up here?

Yuri - Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ah...look out...

Rashid - But not...but not we. Our officers.

Michelle - They are training you to watch when you work on fisheries vessels. So even though there's nothing here to watch...

Rashid - Ah. No, no.

Michelle - ...you have to stand here for four hours.

Rashid - Ah, ah...here stay, ah, at sea, ah, young cadets. From second course. We keep watch...We keep watch?

Yuri - We are keep watch, yeah?

Rashid - On bridge.

Julia - Oh.

Yuri - How...understand. 'We are keep watch' (Russian for 'or') 'we keep watch'.

Rashid - On chart, we work with chart.

Julia - Do you...?

Yuri - Nyet. 'We are keep watch', or...

Julia - Just 'we keep watch'.

Yuri - Ah. Okay.

Julia - Sometimes at my work for four hours (Julia's note: at that time, the candy and pastry department at Simpson's) not very many people come in. So, I eat candy...

Rashid - (laughs)

Julia - ...for four hours.

Rashid - (translates into Russian - Rashid & Yuri giggle) Oh! I see! (laughs)

(Yuri picks up a cassette tape that drops)

Michelle - Yura to the rescue.

Julia - Yura to the rescue. Yay!

Yuri - This is Michael Jackson?

Julia - We taped it from a record.

Michelle - (to the tape recorder mic) Okay. Sorry tape. Here we go.















Me and Yuri


I'll have more of our conversations on future Poetry Train Mondays.

The 2009 Tall Ships arrive in the port of Halifax starting Thursday, July 16th! The Kruzenshtern will be among them! My sister and I will be there - for old times' sake.

Ride the Poetry Train!

Stan Ski says A wonderful memory.

Michelle Johnson says Will Rashid and Yuri be on board this year you think?

Summer Stock Sunday - 7

Seventeen years ago today, I got ready for my wedding along with my best friend, another lifelong friend, my cousin, my sister, new sister-in-law-to-be and my husband's very dear friend from acting school - Andrea. She got to hang with both groups of the wedding party - the ones getting a French twist, which my mom did up (she was a hair dresser, once upon a time) and the ones getting dressed in tuxedoes.












My best friend Connie and my cousin Julianne flank Andrea and her completed French twist.












My cousin and my sister use hot rollers to give their hair more body before going up in the twist.


My mom gives my sister Michelle her 'do.







Doesn't Andrea look fabulous? She stood up for Brad as his 'best man', which we renamed as 'attendant of honour.'

That's Dave, our old roommate, one of Brad's groomsmen and the MC for the reception.






The wedding party assembles at the church.


My best friend - and matron of honour - hands out the bouquets.


I stand at the threshhold of my new life with my dad's hand embracing mine.


The exchange of rings.


Our hands joined in marriage. New beginnings still seem fresh to Brad and me all these years later.


For more Summer Stock Sunday, visit Robin at Around the Island.

Robin says I don't have any photos of people getting ready for our wedding, just the traditional album.

Bim says The photos are fab.

Michelle Johnson says What tender memories you've shared.

I'm blogging at Popculturedivas

Join me at Popculturedivas, where I'm taking a look at the rise of green screen technology in film and television.

Thursday Thirteen - 114 - 13 Reasons to Read Mirror Blue by Thomma Lyn Grindstaff

I met Thomma Lyn Grindstaff in the comments section of fellow writing-life bloggers, and eventually found myself addicted to her posts about her daily hikes up her East Tennessee mountain, complete with you-are-there photos.

It's easy to rejoice with her when she encounters tadpoles evolving in a mountain stream, when she discovers rare ghost flowers deep in the forest and to be patient if she doesn't blog for a few days. I know that means she's working on her next story, so it's all good.

1 - Mirror Blue is a Literary Love Story imprint from Black Lyon Publishing, released in May 2009. It is available in both Ebook PDF format or as a paperback.

2 - Mirror Blue is Thomma Lyn's official debut novel.

Her unofficial debut was actually a story called Thy Eternal Summer. She sold it to an e-publisher that folded not long afterwards. Did Thomma Lyn let that get to her?

Ha!

3 - Being published was just a matter of time for Thomma Lyn. "I recall when I was eleven years old," she writes, "and a teacher asked my class to write an essay about what we hoped we'd be doing as adults. I wrote that I wanted to be a novelist. Writing has always gone hand in hand with reading, and I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with words."

4 - Her readers get to bask in her lifelong passion for words. Mirror Blue is pearled with poetic gems like "Her crush on Isaac had turned into a sword, and she'd cut her hands fondling the blade."

By the way, all I had to do to find that line was to open the book. It was right there on the first random page that opened up. Page 40, if you must know.

5 - We meet Aphra Porter, child of hippy philosopher parents, a southern woman who designs web sites and has had a crush on writer Isaac Lightfoot since her teens. She can't believe she's in a fan girl line-up at one of his book signings. She can't believe how she feels when he looks her straight in the eye and talks to her long enough to make the line-up behind her get fidgety.

6 - Isaac Lightfoot, decorated Vietnam vet with his Silver Star and more than one Purple Heart tucked away in a shoebox, can't believe his luck. Not only does the enchanting woman whose fan letter he remembered after all these years show up at his book signing, but she mentions that she's a web designer. His current author site sucks. It certainly isn't hard to find her on the web - how many people are named after a goddess?

7 - I really, really love the heartbreaky tone to this love story. I know, I know - quelle surprise.

Once these two Harley Davidson riders take their first ride on the open road together, their romance begins. But there is a 20-year age gap between them, not to mention Isaac's 30-year relationship with his former wife and the ghosts of combat past that rear up in the night. Aphra struggles to convince herself that she's not in over her head, and Isaac fights to make his spoken words as compelling as his written ones when Aphra keeps retreating from the onslaught of Isaac's complicated baggage.

8 - As a Literary Love Story, the sexual dynamics are frank yet lyrical. Thomma Lyn's big strength is focusing on the intricate emotional landscape within every erotic encounter. Here's a taste:

"They were, each of them, famished for the other. This, Aphra realized, was what was missing from her lackluster, poor liaisons: this need, licking along the surfaces of her bones like thick liquid being heated."

9 - She intertwines a subplot concerning Isaac's grown son, Aphra's sister and the impending bundles of joy coming to each of them. With Isaac past child rearing and Aphra insisting she was never interested in the first place, all the exposure to families starting up makes these lovers question the impact a childless life would have on the other.

10 - Thomma Lyn really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:

" 'What about Cheryl, his wife? How does she fit in?' said Aphra.

'She's like Norma.'

'But she seems so quiet and mousy.'

'She is quiet and mousy, and yeah, Norma's got a mouth on her like a siren. But they're the same type of woman under the surface: cold, manipulative and self-centered. They thrive on attention. Same song, different dance. I hate it for Sam. I really do. But it's what he's used to in women, it's what he grew up with.'

'Be up front with me, Isaac. Are you sure spending time with me won't bring too much stress upon your head? You'll be dealing with aggravation all around: from Norma, from your mother, and from Sam. Do you really need that, at this point in your life?'

'What I need is you. And as for stress, that's a laugh. You're forgetting who you're talking to. Norma's shenanigans are nothing compared to a nest of NVA snipers. Remember that.'

Aphra hoped he was right. Alas, doubt's gloomy specter kept tap-tapping on her mind's window."

11 - At just under 200 pages, Mirror Blue looks like it would be a quick read. But Thomma Lyn's language is so rich, her novel must be savoured like a dark chocolate dessert. Pull up a chair, stir your coffee or tea and sit a spell. This is a character-driven novel with its own pace.

12 - Check out my my interview with Thomma Lyn which appeared here at A Piece of My Mind just before her May 1st release date.

13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!

"One shadow separated itself from the rest of them and crabbed across the doorway of her bedroom. It was too big to be one of the cats. But if it was Isaac, he didn't make a sound.

Aphra reached for the lamp on her nightstand and flipped it on. Maybe no one was breaking in and Isaac wasn't pining for his ex. Maybe he was in the kitchen making a sandwich.

She didn't have to go far to find Isaac. Six feet from her bedroom doorway he appeared, looming over her. She didn't hear him coming, nor did she see him, until he was there. She had a quick glimpse of his face in the light that spilled over from her bedroom - stony eyes, an unrelenting jaw - before he had her in a headlock; her back was to him, and she didn't remember him turning her around. He was fast, big and strong. And he could break her neck like a twig.

She let out a squeak; it was all she could manage. He abruptly spun her back around and pressed her up against him. 'My God, it's you. You startled me. Oh, please forgive me. What a sorry-assed son of a bitch I am!'

Aphra was shaking.

He held her tighter. 'Look at you, I've scared you half to death. Did I hurt you, honey? God almighty, I'm sorry. I woke up crazy-headed, plumb off my rocker.'

She hugged him back and nuzzled his chest. 'Do you mean you had a nightmare?'

'Not a nightmare, at least not one I remember. All I know is I woke up in a cold sweat. I felt like something awful was going to happen. So there I was, looking for potential ambush sites and figuring out the best defensive positions against them. I don't know what got into me, but I know it hasn't gotten into me for a long time.'

'Are you saying you do this often? Wake up and go into battle mode?'

'It used to happen pretty regularly. Not any more. Mostly when it happens these days, it's triggered by stress.'

'I'm stressing you out?' "

- Thomma Lyn Grindstaff, 2009

Join me next week when I tell the incredibly romantic tale of two east coast girls and their Russian sailor adventure - as the Tall Ships arrive in the port of Halifax for Tall Ships 2009!

Devilish Southern Belle says You've piqued my curiosity - I may just have to get this book!

Paul says Thomma Lyn is a wonderful writer.

Brenda ND says Julia, you're a wonderful reviewer.

Wordless Wednesday - 107

Amy Ruttan says She's so cute!!

Shelley Munro says Aw, Xena looks lovely.

Brooke says Hehee.. a cutie..

Through the Opera Glasses - 22 - Using Collage to Unlock Your Story

My writers' group started doing collage workshops as a way to let our subconscious loose, to let ideas surface. An article in the Romance Writers Report gave Pam Callow the idea to hold a collage session ourselves, and she's done them three times so far.

The article was by Jennifer Crusie - you can read about creating a book collage HERE.

I've got three collages for three of my works in progress, and I gaze at them from time to time when I need to disappear into the world of my story.

I thought I'd share them with you as a glimpse into what I'm thinking about as I write. As someone who went to film school, I'm a highly visual person, and I really need to see what's going on in my head. I need to hear the voices of the characters speak when possible. I just listen to the actor whom I've cast as the character when I need to do that. Luckily, they've all done similar scenes to ones I'm writing, meaning the characters they portray hit similar emotional notes, and when I need to hear my own characters, I often play scenes from their films or TV shows to feed my inner muse.

The first collage I did is for the novel I'm working on right now - my gardener story. Here's the full collage:














Here's a few close-up panels:
















Here's the second collage I made, of my vampire story:














A few close-up panels:













The most recent collage was done at our last writers' meeting a few weeks ago. This is my Scorpius collage, the dark fantasy:













A few close-up panels:















Kim Richardson says Oh, what a wonderful idea!! These are great!

Jeeves says Lovely images!

Kelly Boyce says They look great as always!

Poetry Train Monday - 108 - A Saucer and a Jar

This piece of found poetry is a journal entry from six years ago.

Don't forget to Ride the Poetry Train!



A Saucer and a Jar


Noticed a loud war whoop outside
Mom called
Said there was fire in the woods
Just behind our house

Brad called it in
We quickly dressed
Put our dog in the kitchen
I grabbed a saucer and a jar

We ran out around the house
To the ball field
A garbage can on its side
Contents on fire

Dead tree
One end in the can
Underbrush smoldering already
Brad and I set to work

Threw sand from the ball field
Onto the fire
I went under the trees
Rolled the can with my foot

Out from the trees
Onto the grass
Kids lurking in shadows
Behind school

Kids called out to us
Said Fuck you
We returned the compliment
Brad told them to come out

So he could kick
Their fucking asses
Cowards I taunted
No one came out

Fire truck
Eventually arrived
Brad sprained ankle
Running to meet them

Three firemen
With foam spray-can
Put out remains of
Smoldering fire

They said they get called
To this area repeatedly

Washed soot
From my arms and face
Put our smoky clothes
In a bag

Put a cold cloth
On Brad's ankle
An hour later
Heard crashing in the woods

I shouted
I wouldn't stay there
If I were you
Heard a bird-type cry

Brad called it in
I got dressed
Stood in front of house
To wait

A mountie pulled up
To talk to me
She drove around the school
Told me doors were bashed in

She said I'll be
Working on that tonight
At any rate
Got a call

Have to act on that
She said
Drove off
I headed inside

Sat on the couch
Brad's sore ankle
On my lap
Our dog all tired out

Next day
Went to ball field
Rolled garbage can
Across the grass

To the brick school
Left it standing on gravel
Appealing to laziness factor
Hope they won't want to move it so far


- Julia Smith, 2009 / original text August 2003

















Photo by Ralph Maughan

Apprentice Writer says I'd have called that 'recalled scariness' rather than found poetry.

Ailurophile says Liked the poem, and the photo.

Susan Helen Gottfried says You convey the emotion and drama well within the spare framework.