It's easy being Green

Well, the new year has come and gone.  Another of my resolutions was to begin taking my woodworking career seriously.  By this I mean my online business, The Green Dragon.  Over the past few days I have turned out six brand new Vampire Stakes, so I'm off to a fairly good start.  I started The Green Dragon website in 2005, two weeks before Hurricane Katrina came and ripped up this region by its roots.  My career in woodworking goes back much farther than that.  If you've read any of my previous blogs, you will know that I lived homeless in Atlanta and could not find a decent job.  At that time I had only worked for fast food joints, a brief stint at Disney World and two years at Terror On Church Street, a year round haunted house in Orlando.  What I'm trying to say is that I had no skills.  These jobs all placed together in the experience section of a job application do not exactly speak of credibility.  It was at this time of despair, once I retreated home to Louisiana, that I came up with the brilliant idea that I would build guitars for a living.  It sounds fine in theory, but in practice, no professional guitar builder is willing to take a clueless girl into a shop who has only studied band saws and table saws in the context of a textbook, let alone teach her the fine secrets of the craft.  In the end, I began looking into custom furniture shops, the concept is there, same tools, learn the trade, build guitars!  This was in 1995.  An older man by the name of Hugh Hogan took me on as an apprentice in his shop.  He gave me a strong foundation in the craft and let me borrow tools to work on projects at home in my spare time.  He had already apprenticed his two sons who had both gone on to have woodworking careers (One built a table for Sir Elton John) and he taught many of his grandchildren.  In so many ways he was like a grandfather to me and I really owe everything I have learned over the years to his willingness to take a chance on this textbook kid. 

My second lucky break was getting a job in Greenville, South Carolina with Michael McDunn.  He is, by trade, what one would call a fine woodworker.  He builds fantastically imaginative custom furniture and has an art gallery in the front of his business.  The collective name for this venture is Michael P McDunn, Woodworking studio and art gallery.  This man is incredible and it was from him that I learned to fine tune my trade, as he taught me to fine tune my chisels and scrapers to work perfectly.  We used hand tools along with the standard power tools and created works of art from slabs of trees, tree trunks, found wood and amazing lumber from those southern Appalachians.  I can't begin to say how much Mike influenced me over the four years that I worked for him.  He took a rough, green carpenter and taught me how to fine tune, to make things absolutely perfect and to restore an antique piece to perfection, even if it arrived in pieces inside a large box.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Mike and his simple wisdom.  "Bit by bit," he used to tell me when a job seemed overwhelming.  Along with  my personal favorite, even if it's not his, "No good deed ever goes unpunished."  I can't say either how many timeless truths I learned in that studio on Rutherford Road, how many of his friends I became close with or how many amazing artists I met that had their artwork placed in his gallery.  I always feel like Mike is looking over my shoulder to make sure that I am doing a job of utmost perfection.  That inspiration has never been lost on me, although I have worked for employers since my time with him that do not find this type of work ethic to be of any use whatsoever.  It's really disheartening when you want to give your all and someone really, truly wants you to do as little as possible to make it right.  Some jobs are better left behind.

I don't know what Mike thinks about what I have chosen to use my talents for since he spent so many years helping me to improve upon them.  I'm sure that he doesn't want Vampire Stakes in his Gallery, no matter how beautiful they turn out.  There are a few things I may inquire about when I complete them, but that time may come later.  Although I love working with furniture, especially antique restoration, I truly love doing works of a smaller scale, especially wood turning.  One of Mike's friends and colleagues, Tom Zumbach, who is a wood turner by trade, once told me that he loved wood turning because it was "instant gratification."  There were not countless hours spent putting together the case for a piece of furniture, building the drawers, adding drawer fronts, finishing the job, sanding it, spraying it again, sanding it, spraying it AGAIN then adding the hardware, whew.  Throw a rough block onto the lathe and in an hour or so, (less if you are Tom) you have something that is finished!  I really like that concept.  Many of the things I do are not so simple, but I enjoy delving into this craft that is almost as old as time itself.  To take pieces from a tree that a neighbor cut down, to dry it out over the course of years and then turn it into something useful is one of my favorite things to do.  I am also a fan of using recycled and reclaimed wood.  In many ways, I have grown into the name, The Green Dragon.  Not only do I find unwanted wood and hoard it for future projects, I now use less harmful water based finishes and I have very little waste.  It's actually easy being green.
I only wish that my love for wood could sustain me financially through life so that I could continue on with something that truly makes me happy.   Perhaps one day I will find a niche that is well received enough to offer such a commitment.  Perhaps my book of poems will hit the best sellers list!  For now, I am content with my Vampire Stakes, Magic Wands, Druid Sticks, ancient games and other woodworks that aren't quite as odd.  I never did build a guitar, but I did build a very nice Ashiko Drum last year.  Do feel free to visit my woodworking website to see what it is all about.  I also enjoy building custom pieces for anyone who requests it.  Strangely enough, I have never written about my woodworking, though I have written many of my poems about other topics while inside the workshop.  Go figure, it's bound to happen one day. 

Until then, my book, I Wandered from New Orleans is still available on my author's website, among other places, and my woodworking items are on display and for sale at The Green Dragon's website.  Pop in and tell me what you think!  Cheers!

...if only in my dreams

It's that time of year again, the crazy Christmas shopping rush.  I live by a mall, so that's always evident to  me as soon as it begins.  The holidays don't just bring traffic and Salvation Army bell ringers, if you're like me, it's a time to reflect on family gatherings and the ones who won't be here to celebrate with you as they once did.  Like poetry, music and songs can be interpreted in a variety of ways.  For some reason this year, "I'll be home for Christmas" has taken on a whole new meaning for me.  Why this year?  Why in this way?  I don't really know, but for some reason when I first heard it this year, I could only think of family members that wouldn't be home for Christmas.  They would be here, 'only in my dreams,' you could say.
I think about my Auntie who inspired me to be a better person, I would say tolerant, but tolerance implies that there is something wrong and you're just not saying anything about how you really feel.  She taught me to be accepting of certain differences and a few simple words changed my outlook forever.  We had argued about a small portrait of the Virgin Mary that she wanted to give me, I told her I didn't want it, that it didn't  mean anything to me.  Finally she said, "It means something to me."  I took the portrait and have applied this simple wisdom to so many aspects of my life.  I think of Auntie at Christmas and I wish I could go sit next to her and talk to her again.  In much the same way the main character saved and cataloged family memorabilia in the movie "Everything is Illuminated," I write because I do not wish to forget.  Each piece I write memorializes some event, a feeling or just a significant moment.

'Please have snow and mistletoe..."  My father's family always had a big Christmas Eve party.  I can remember my Mammy always prepared a special meal for me because I wouldn't eat the typical food on the table.  I'm still as picky, as you get older people do not wish to accomodate your pickiness.  I usually leave Thanksgiving and Christmas 'feasts' hungry.  Regardless, those old gatherings stick with me this time of year, I don't need the ghost of Christmas past to guide me, I am already there.  Looking out over the rooftops of a porch in Mid-City, to the sky where they said Santa Claus was flying.  Those were magical times with magical people.  Never take for granted the impact a few simple words will have on a child through its lifetime.

For now, I'm remembering the ones who can't be here this year, my Auntie, Paw Paw, Mammy, Uncle T, Aunt Mildred, Nenny and Nez, Aunt Rae Ann, Aunt Cleo.  I wish you could all be home for Christmas in the way that I remember; for now, you will all remain only in my dreams.  Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas.

I Wandered from New Orleans is available at my website, Amzaon.com, as a NOOKbook and on Smashwords.  Read the new review by Shannon Yarbrough at the LL Book Review

At 40, you eat Tombstone cake

So I've finally made it to 40.  That seems like such an impossible age to be when I can recall taking the Peter Pan oath in 6th grade.  Time keeps slipping away.  So yesterday was spent in the French Quarter in New Orleans, one of my favorite places to be.  I got some of my books into another book store, but the main purpose of the visit was for fun, relaxing and reflecting.  We walked around down Frenchmen and then Decatur Street, past Jackson Square and the coach drivers.  Finally it was time for a beer.  You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a Newcastle and a Guinness.  I was terribly disappointed that Laffite's Blacksmith Shop didn't have these brews, so we steered a course for Decatur again and found Pravda.  Now I first discovered Pravda the year we marched with the Krewe Of Pirates during Mardi Gras.  The inside of the bar is quaint and dim, towards the back of the bar is a fabulous courtyard with a view of the distant rooftops.  This means little to Pirates on Mardi Gras day, but yesterday was already a slow day for the Quarter, so the Pravda courtyard was candlelit and deserted so I thoroughly enjoyed my Guinness while Clarice enjoyed her Newcastle.  Pravda is also the only bar I know of that has an actual working Absinthe drip fountain.  This is classic and though I didn't get one yesterday, I plan to get one on Mardi Gras.  I have always wanted to have an Absinthe made the old fashioned way, a shot of Absinthe over a sugar cube suspended over the glass with a traditional Absinthe spoon.  Then the spigot is turned ever so slightly on the Absinthe drip fountain to send small drops of ice cold water over the sugar cube, dissolving it into the glass below.  This was first done at The Old Absinthe House on Bourbon Street sometime in the late 1700's.  Absinthe was outlawed even before probibition hit in the 20's because of the Wormwood.  The neat thing about the Absinthe is that it isn't just the alcohol that is getting you drunk.  It is infused with many different types of herbs, each with their own specific properties.  Wormwood was known to cause hallucinations and disorientation.  Poe was a fan of Absinthe as well as Van Gogh, in fact, Van Gogh cut off his ear while under the influence of Absinthe.  In the last year, Wormwood was again added back into the brand 'Absente,' though I assume that it is either a distilled version of the wormwood or there is far less of it added to the bottle by volume.

Ah Mardi Gras, I shall have a drink from the Absinthe fountain for the first time.  I have a bottle and a half here at the house.  My method is to pour the shot over the sugar cube, cut the lights and set it on fire before dousing it with the ice water.  Moulin Rouge style.  Some disagree with this  method saying that it burns off some of the alcohol, which seems to make logical sense.  It still looks really cool when you do it, especially if the fire only burns the cube and does not drop into the glass.    So... back to the Guinness.
We left Pravda and had Beignets and Coffee at Cafe Du Monde as we always do then headed over to the home of two new friends that we met at the New Orleans Book Fair.  JT Blatty is a writer, photographer and artist.  She was one of the volunteers who helped clean up the oil soaked Pelicans that fell victim to BP's careless oil gusher.  She documented the process of the recovery with her photographs and focused  mainly on the release of the birds back into the wild.  It is truly beautiful work.  She also published a book called 'The Who Dat Nation' that documents the players and the fans through unique, storytelling photographs.  After spending many hours talking and sharing stories much farther into the night than we realized, we made our way back across the lake.

40 really isn't the end of the world.  It just means eating tombstone cake, black candles and jokes about canes and wheelchairs.  Maybe when I'm 80, for now, I'm content to remain in my Peter Panish fantasy, growing up only as much as I need to and remembering that youth is all a state of mind.

One of the best birthday presents I received was an amazing review of my book at the LL Book Review, you can read it here!  Shannon did a great job and I couldn't be more pleased with his perspective on the book.  I also added a page of links to my website so that New Orleans area locals can buy the book around town at local book stores and shops.  I also added a page with links to showcase some of my artistic friends and their amazing websites.  As always, you can find my book at http://www.tracyconway.com/ and also delve into some background information on the book with additional photos that did not appear inside.    Thanks for coming along!  See you next time.

Another local, independent bookstore has the book!

I managed to cross state lines and get another book into an indie bookstore!  If you're in Mississippi go and check out Bay Books on Main street.  The owner is very accomodating and she has two very cool cats that take up residence inside.  Most importantly, you can get a copy of I Wandered from New Orleans right off the shelf!  In real live bookstores in New Orleans, Mississippi and Atlanta!  It's too bad that poetry is mostly disregarded by people as being too complicated and vague.  I'm not Shakespeare, I write in a straightforward manner that basically tells a story.  It's all true life experiences, I'm still amazed as I fill out forms and papers to have my book included in different sites on the internet that there is nowhere to select 'nonfiction poetry.'  You are forced to select fiction, then add nonfiction as a second category, which would probably confuse most people.  The latest was Barnes & Noble, which is more than a little crazy.  Here is the list, again, including Bay Books of places to get the book from a bookshelf:

Bay Books - 131 Main Street, Bay St. Louis, MS  228-463-2688
Garden District Book Shop - 2727 Prytania Street, New Orleans
Librairie Bookshop - 823 Chartres Street, New Orleans
Beckham's Bookshop - 228 Decatur Street, New Orleans
Faubourg Marigny Art, Books, Music - 600 Frenchmen Street, New Orleans
Louisiana Music Factory - 210 Decatur Street, New Orleans
Charis Books and More - 1189 Euclid Avenue, NE Atlanta, aka Little Five Points

That's my list so far, next time I can get to New Orleans I hope to add a few more stores.  In other news, in about 30 minutes I have been invited by my longtime Terror On Church Street friend, Greg Hall aka The Funky Werepig, to do a guest spot on his online radio show,  it's amazing how something like that could make your palms sweat.  In a Coyote Ugly kind of way, I always have that 7th grade fear of my recital of 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.'  The blackout reading, just like the time on stage when the band was playing and I forgot the lyrics.  It's something about being watched.  Call me crazy.  Even if it's only listening.  I shall persevere in the name of shameless self promotion.

So anyway.  If you're local and out and about, you know where to find the book!  If you're not local and you wish you were, you can always get a signed copy on my website at www.tracyconway.com.  Also available in eBook format at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble.com and Smashwords!  Groove on!