by Heather Plett | Aug 30, 2007 | Uncategorized
Eleven months ago, we said good-bye to Brad. 40 years old. Motorcycle accident. Too young to die. Today they will bury his mother. 62 years old. Heart attack. Too young to die.
Are you ever old enough to die?
Are you ever ready to say good-bye to someone who shares your life?
The last time I saw Mrs. B. she nearly crumpled to the ground at her son’s grave. Overcome with grief. Now the only remaining family members – her husband, her only remaining son, and her four grandchildren – will stand by her grave and try to fathom life without her just like she tried to fathom life without her Brad.
There are hardly words to express the depth their grief must be.
by Heather Plett | Aug 27, 2007 | family
I spent the weekend with some lovely mer-people, and other members of my family. 
It was the kind of weekend that serves to remind a person how rich it can make you feel to have good people in your corner. Tonight, my corner feels full. And I am content.
You can see a bunch more pictures here.
(We missed you, B&S&A&B.)
Speaking of people in my corner, thank you SO much to all those people who replied to my last post. I feel affirmed and delighted. I am excited about this idea and I’m glad you are too. If you haven’t had a chance to respond yet, please do. I’ll need just a few more people on the list to make this viable. I’ll keep you posted on the details as they unfold.
by Heather Plett | Aug 24, 2007 | Creativity
A few years ago, I facilitated an eight week creativity workshop which was one of the most fun things I’ve ever done. For eight wonderful weeks, a group of about 8-10 women came together to get inspired, share the fruits of their labour, encourage each other, find a safe space to create, try new and daring things, get their hands dirty, and discover that they were more gifted than they’d ever thought they were. For most of us (myself included), it felt like an awakening – an un-shackling. It wasn’t about painting the most amazing, critically acclaimed work of art, or writing that great novel that would launch you into stardom, it was more about giving yourself permission to pick up a paint brush or pen or camera or guitar or whatever your tool of choice may be, close the door on the laundry room, and just create to your heart’s content. It was about acknowledging that creativity is as high a calling as any and there is value in the process even without any astounding results. It was about discovering that, despite what our highly productive society too often preaches, creating art just for the sake of enjoying it is NOT a waste of time.
Last week, while I was blog-surfing, I came across a reference to a “creativity retreat”. Something stirred inside of me. It was that old longing again. A longing to go back to that place where women were safe enough to admit their fears of failure and yet encouraged to find the boldness to try anyway. A longing to once again serve as a midwife to other women’s art-babies. A longing to see the tears well up in someone’s eyes when they gave themselves permission to create. A longing to listen to the whispering of the muse and to help other people hear it too. A longing to see the bold yet terrified looks on their faces as they laid the fruits of the labour before the rest of the group.
I have waited nearly five years for the chance to do it again. I’m done with waiting. It’s time to go back to that place. Who wants to come with me?
Here’s what I want to do. I want to set aside an extended weekend (perhaps 3-4 days) where a group of women can escape to a quiet place to be inspired, to cheer each other on, to make art, to tell stories, to sit in silence, to let the tears flow, to laugh with delight, to birth and share their art-babies, to have a-ha moments, to forget about unfinished laundry, to think bold thoughts, and to just be safe for awhile.
I expect that the time-frame for this will be some time in November. Yeah, I know it’s not the BEST time to be at a retreat centre in Manitoba, but hopefully I’ll find somewhere with a cozy fireplace.
I haven’t worked out the details yet, but I thought I would first “cast my bread upon the water” and see if I can find enough interested women to make this worth the effort. Who’s willing to give it a shot? Anyone is welcome (well, any WOMEN anyway – sorry guys), as long as you can get yourself to the Winnipeg vicinity for a few days. You don’t have to be an accomplished artist, you just have to be willing to open that tiny door to the creative space in your brain.
I’m not sure of the cost yet, but I’ll work that out as I put the plans into place. (It’s not a money-making venture, so the costs won’t be astronomical.)
For now, just let me know if you’re interested. No, I’m not promising you’ll be imparted with great wisdom from a creativity guru or accomplished artist, but I can promise you that, if you are willing to share of yourself and open yourself up to new ideas, you will be inspired. I may not be the most qualified “teacher”, but I do believe I have some gifts in “facilitating” creativity and learning. Most of your learning will not come from me but from the other amazing women who choose to offer something of themselves.
Who’s with me? Reply in the comments or send me an email.
by Heather Plett | Aug 23, 2007 | spam
As I was cleaning out my junk mail folder, I found myself wondering about the people who write these emails. Were they hired for the express purpose of writing and sending spam to millions of emails around the world? Or do they contract themselves out? Do they have business cards? If so, what’s their tag line? “The best spam writers money can buy”? or “We annoy people for a living.” or “Wanna lose your credibility? We’ll show you how.”
Can you imagine the job interview questions? Picture some young college graduate with big dreams and an advertising diploma tucked into his back pocket, walking into one of those obscure job interviews held in an undisclosed location with company X.
“Thank you for coming. Can you close the door behind you? You didn’t tell anyone you were here, did you? Good, good, then let’s get started. How are your writing skills?”
“Very good. Would you like to see a sample of my work?
“Nah, that’s okay, we’ll take your word for it. We’re not talking about anything too complicated here. Have you written ad copy before?”
“Yes, I took a course in it and I got an A, so I’m sure I’m well suited to whatever you have in mind.”
“Are you one of those anal retentive people who has to spell everything right, or are you okay with a few intentionally misspelled words?”
“Well, I suppose I could live it it, for the right purpose.”
“Good, good. Do you have any qualms about annoying people for a living? I mean… you’re in advertising after all…”
“Umm… well… can you explain yourself? Annoying people?”
“Let’s move one, shall we? Do you have any experience with, um, pe*nis enlargement?”
“Excuse me? My mom told me you weren’t allowed to ask me any personal questions.”
“Oh, that’s only if it doesn’t have anything to do with the task at hand. Do you?”
“Well, not any PERSONAL experience.”
“But you think you could write creative ad copy about them?”
“Well, I suppose…”
“Very well then. Would you be willing to share any na*ked pictures of yourself? Or at least a reasonable facsimile of your pe*nis?”
“WHAT?”
“Oops, I’m sorry – my H.R. advisor said I wasn’t supposed to ask that until you’ve been offered the job. Forget I said that. How’s your email address book? Do you have at least a hundred friends whose emails you’d be willing to share?”
“Ummm… I don’t know…”
“Don’t worry, it will all be anonymous – they’ll never know you’re involved. One last question – do you have any hobbies? Like perhaps fishing? Sorry… make that phishing?”
“I’m confused… just WHAT was this job for anyway?”
“We’ll get to that. Okay, one last thing – how desperate are you to make money? Got any bad debt hanging over your head? Maybe a collection agency that wants you dead?”
by Heather Plett | Aug 21, 2007 | Uncategorized
Yesterday afternoon, while I was trying to do some paperwork, Maddie REALLY wanted my attention. “Mom, can you help me build a fort? Mom can you play a game with me? Mom can you watch a movie with me?”
Getting rather impatient (because I hate paperwork and really wanted to get it over with without further interruptions), I said “Maddie, I just don’t have time right now. You’re going to have to find something to do that doesn’t involve interrupting me.”
A few moments later came her reply. “Mom, I’ve found something to do that doesn’t involve interrupting you. It’s being MAD at you.”
