CYOPro in Barbados

I had the pleasure of spending my recent vacation - into birthday - in Barbados.  One of the friendships that started many moons ago at the University of the West Indies, flourished over the years.  As with many friendships, there were periods of silence, but, when we caught up, we caught up!  I paid her a visit almost fifteen years ago.  Now, a family later, we arranged the vacation and birthday celebration in her country, Barbados.

For some reason, I noticed quite a bit more this time around.  I think one of the main reasons is that, back then, I was getting over a very recent breakup.  Time away, anywhere, away from him and everything that reminded me of him, was good enough.  I had spent quite a lot of time writing, as well - a different sort.  Then, my friend, Debbie, was kind enough to take me around to most of the touristy spots.  We took quite a few pics - those that you had to send out to get developed and wait a week or so before you got them in your hand!  Good times.  Good times.

This time, we still did a few touristy spots.  But, for the most part, I was just happy to reunite, meet the family and get time away from my usual surroundings to write.  I did all of that!  Several hundred pics later (yeah, it's 2012), I gotta say it was a lovely, lovely trip.

One of my most memorable days was the day before my birthday.  We went on a picnic to Barclays Park, only for them to surprise me with a cake.  Not just any cake, but a birthday cake!  That was waaay cool! And so thoughtful.  Another highlight was the birthday itself.  What a fantastic day by the Boardwalk, along Rockley Beach!

I'm sure if we'd tried, we could have got 41 candles to fit!

A few things stood out during this trip.  On my first visit to the Boardwalk, I was eating cane.  Yes, peeled and sliced pieces of sugar cane.  I love cane!  So, there I was walking along and soon realized that I was getting a few glances from other folks going in the same and opposite direction.  It became so noticeable that I asked my friend about it later on.  She let me know that it was an unusual occurrence.  Bajans don't normally have sugar cane like that.  No big reason, either.  I thought back to Jamaica and became even more thankful that there's a "Caney" on almost every corner.  Well, not exactly, but, you catch my drift.

View from a section of The Richard Haynes Boardwalk

The day before I left, I went into a store to buy a few souvenirs.  I asked whether they accepted Canadian currency.  The cashier said they did not.  I used the BBD cash I had.  Perhaps I would've bought more souvenirs if they did.  Actually, scratch the "perhaps". They accepted US dollars, US credit cards or travellers' checks.  I didn't check with any other store re the accepted currency thing.  I figure it was standard, though.

Another thing.  What you see on the price tag is what you pay.  No taxes added at checkout.   Now, eating out may be a bit pricey, say, BBD$24 for a lunch of Rice and Peas and Chicken.  Or, as I noted by looking in, a footlong Subway sandwich is about BBD$25 - a bit more if it's going to be a combo.  The exchange rate is about CAD$1 to BBD$2.

And, this one always makes me smile.  Almost everybody - with a few exceptions - tell you good morning or good evening or hi or whatever!  Yes, exclamation sign.  It was a pleasant difference from what I'd become accustomed to in Canada, actually, in the US, too.  (I had lived in the Rochester, NY for several years.)  Here in Canada, once you get talking with most people, you discover they are nice to talk to.  However, on too many occasions, far too many to count, someone will enter an elevator, for example, see me and/or five others in it, and not say one single solitary word!  So, when I heard people passing by and wishing me a good morning and so on, it was a bit surprising, then, simply delightful.

I enjoyed visiting the St. George Parish Church; visited that lovely beach near Oistins; loved the sight of kites in the sky on Easter Monday and even saw a few monkeys paying unwelcome visits in people's yards!  Codrington College was also a pleasure to behold.

Codrington College

The sand felt goood under my feet.  (Beach near Oistins)

Ahh the majesty of big strong trees! (Beach near Oistins)

Still, nothing came close to the Boardwalk!  I'm glad I "carpe the heck out of the diem!" and shot my first CYOPro destination video right there and then.  Journey of a thousand miles... Well, just visit my channel already :-)

NB: Need to add this further to the previous post - eating humble pie while I type.  I signed in to YouTube a few days ago.  My Gmail tab was also open. There, in the upper RHC, was a whitish arrow pointing downward to the Gmail account I was logged into. How I missed that the last time must have been by divine intervention!  It caused me pain, but, I've come to realize that the current name works out better, given the ideas I have in mind for when my website comes into its own.  More anon :-)



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Getting Back Up

As they say in the movies, let's cut to the chase.  Create Your Own Productions  (CYOPro) now has a channel on YouTube.  I created it today.  I've been wanting to do it for a while, having a very good idea of the kinds of videos I want to make.  Several months ago, I created a gmail account specifically with that in mind. That would be the email address to be associated with the YouTube channel.

I was checking my personal gmail account today when I skipped over to a folder to review a few of the videos I had made while on vacation.  As I did that, it came to mind that I could use today, my last free day before getting back to work tomorrow, to create the channel - and upload the videos!  

Next thing I did was go to YouTube to create the channel. I chose my user name "CYOPro" and proceeded to upload, tag, describe and categorize the video.  I had done it!  A few minutes later, as I browsed my latest creation, I clicked on the user name and checked out details of the account.  Lo and behold, the email address that got associated (not "that I had associated", mind you) with that one special user name was my personal email address!  I had been checking emails in another tab, remember?  There had been no prompt (like, you are currently signed in to your email and will be linking x email address to this account.  Do you wish to proceed?) I hadn't signed out!  Oh, the horror!  The shock.  The disappointment.  "I should have known better; I should have known better," also came to mind.  I became so forlorn.

How did I let this happen?  I had been so careful to reserve the email address and the username and now, the connection I had wanted was not there.  Of course, I absolutely did not want the CYOPro YouTube account to be linked to my personal email account.  I searched their help centre high and low for a solution - switch username to other email address; change email address associated with user name.  Nada.  Zip.  Zilch.  No, actually, they did have something to say about it - just not what I wanted to hear.  In a nutshell, it couldn't be done.  (Sounds like there was something about being able to do it if it were a legacy account - if it had been opened before early 2009.  It didn't apply to me, so, that went in one eye and not the other.)  

Remember Kipling's "If"?  "If you can make one heap of all your winnings/And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss/And lose, and start again at your beginnings/And never breathe a word about your loss..."  (Well, never mind the last verse - 'cause I'm surely breathing more than a word about my loss, here.)  The rest of it,  though, is kinda how I felt.  

So, I did the next best thing - think of a new username; cancel the newly-created channel (at least I could have done that without deleting the email account associated with it); realize that the old username would not be available (even after cancelling the channel, people! Yep. This is the new Google-dom for you!) and link the new user name to the special email account I had set up months ago.

The name of my YouTube channel: CYOProChannel

Thereafter, I uploaded my first three videos.  Using this new Blogger look, so, here I go, inserting one of these vids, glitch-free! Of course, I could have just used a link to the video, but, where's the fun in that?

Know what, though?  After I uploaded the videos and watched them, I felt a swell of gladness.  After all, this is a project I'd wanted to start for a long time (more in the channel description), and, I've done it!  I shared it on FB and Twitter.  I wondered a little about the public's response.  But, having put myself out there (#byebyecomfortzone), I had a moment of reflection.  What do I think about it?  I think...no, I know I feel good about creating this production! 

Claudia 

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

The Tablet: In Sacred Memory

Here's something you don't see on this blog very often - an image.  In this case, three.  I've read the bits of advice time and again.  For e.g., make sure blog entries contain at least one image. My take is that I write for reading.  Unless an image is going to be a visual aid and/or add weight to the post I'd rather not include one.

From the moment I laid eyes on this tablet sometime after seven o' clock this morning, I knew I wanted to blog about it. And, I straightway imagined it as an image to be included.  So, I remained after the service - my friend, Debbie, waited patiently - to take a few photos.  Even though most of the congregants had filed out, I tried to be as reverent, discreet and non-touristy as possible.  I felt more and more at ease as I went on to take a few of the sanctuary.  The St. George Parish Church in Barbados is a beautiful building.  It's the oldest ecclesiastical building on the island - architecture less Gothic; more Georgian (via a little Google search).

The line that stood out for me then, and got stuck in my head after, is this one:

"And give her husband just reason to deplore the loss of the greatest of God's blessings; a Christian wife."


For several reasons, I wouldn't, couldn't let it go:

(Took this pic on Resurrection / Easter Sunday, April 8, 2012.)

THE USE OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE
Unless we indulge in a certain genre of writing, we just don't see the English language being written in such a beautiful and eloquent way these days. True, I don't expect the daily news to sound like an obituary - though, sometimes, it does come close.  However, over time, much eloquence has been lost.  Perhaps it's because of the literature to which I was exposed growing up.  The likes of Milton, Dickens, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Wilde, Lawrence accompanied me throughout my high school and University years. The language was more complex, and within its complexity, it carried a certain beauty.  Perhaps it was the challenge of unearthing the meaning of the likes of, "If music be the food of love, play on," and the subsequent reward in being singled out by my third form (Grade 9) teacher to explain to the rest of the class that "he was in need of love."  Whatever the reason I found it enchanting, they had a way with words.  This tablet - and, especially that line - brought me back to that delightful time.

THE LOSS
Charles Darling suffered the loss of his wife, Anne, shortly after her twenty-fourth birthday.  Having no knowledge of the story behind all this, and, not wanting to do any deep research for this particular post, I let myself be satisfied with what was provided.  She was such a young woman; perhaps they were a young couple.  There was no info to indicate for how long they had been married.  However, the latter section of the tablet made me wonder...

THE DOUBLE LOSS
Charles Darling suffered another loss just about a month after - that of his twenty-one month old son.  I'm thinking that the Darlings' marriage might have been under three years old.  A child would've come soon after marriage, back then.

It's not that I picked a tablet and decided to dote on it.  I think, for the first time, after many instances of reading tombstones and tablets and being fascinated by the dates (they were born how long ago???) I was genuinely interested in how these persons, generations ago, expressed their sorrow.  I think that line - wouldn't it have been penned by Charles Darling? - helped draw me in.

And, in a really warped way, I drew some small comfort in the fact that, no matter the epoch or generation or historical age,  some things have not changed.  Among them, our emotions.  The way we express them? Maybe.  But, sorrow is sorrow and joy is joy, whether it's 1837 or 2012.

THE MORTALITY
Of course, as at other times when faced with the details, or a summary, of death, who can walk away without thinking for a moment of his/her own mortality?  And, if time goes until then, one hundred and seventy-five years from this, who will cast a second glance at the tombstone - or tablet - erected in memory of me?  Will anyone be moved by it?  Will it cause them to engage in a bit of reflection; introspection?  Will it cause them to think, as I did for a second, about their own fleeting mortality, and where they'll spend eternity?   Then again, if it's a tombstone, the thing mightn't be legible by then anyway!

I'm not too hung up on death.  It's more the dying I think about - like many others, I'd rather not suffer in pain while I'm departing this weary sod.  But, it's the dying without Christ that freaks me out.  My Christianity is not just a "fire insurance".  It's a cherished relationship with Jesus Christ.  But, dying with Him does mean that I get to spend eternity with him in heaven.  Just sayin'.

Through His death and resurrection I have hope of my own resurrection and eternal life.  Booyah! *Ahem*  I mean, and that is wonderful!  You gotta believe in something - and I believe in this.

(Inside the St. George Parish Church. Resurrection painting Rise to Power by Benjamin West R.A.  Took this pic on Resurrection / Easter Sunday, April 8, 2012.) 

(View from outside the St. George Parish Church built 1784. Took this pic on Good Friday, April 6, 2012.)

Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

"Invention is the mother of necessity"

I just saw the notice: Blogger is getting a new look in April.  I learnt today that, come March 30, Facebook's Timeline will be mandatory.  When did these tools we opted to use begin to mildly frustrate us as their purveyors push what they think is better?  We could opt out - or could we?  Well, we could, but, we have grown an extra limb or two or three.   Getting through our days without the Twitter limb or - for some - the Facebook limb, seems like a crazy, far-fetched idea.  When the creators of these limbs twist our arms to get us to move in their direction, quite frankly, it doesn't take much effort on their part.  It's pretty much get with it or get out of the way!

You may know of my love and appreciation for Marshall McLuhan's quotes:  "The medium is the message/massage"; "We shape our tools and then our tools shape us" and, a more recent fave, "Invention is the mother of necessity"!  So, there you have it, folks!  Let's just take that all in for a moment, shall we?  (Tangent:  I do like that part of the Bio that says: "He was learning in spite of his professors, but he would become a professor of English in spite of himself."  Not too keen on the "training of perception" idea, though.  I think it bothers me... or intrigues me...?  Not yet sure which. I would have to explore whether my appreciation for these quotes is incongruous with that idea... I dunno.  And now is not the time to ponder this.)   Moving on.

We have indeed shaped our tools and, in turn, have been shaped by them.  Our priorities have changed; our preferences for the way we interact have been re-defined.  There is a tool for every mood; a tool for every kind of message.  The medium that we use helps to shape the (kind of) message we wish to send.  Sometimes you'd rather not call, just text - because, well, you know.  The invention of gadgets and electronic tools galore have birthed the (desperate) need for accessories we had no clue we sooo needed before they came on stream.  We have a gazillion ways to talk and interact with each other, but more and more of which have little to do with the original - face to face.  Not in a Skype or other video chat way, either, but, in the way where we can reach out and touch each other; hug; hold.   Question: If we had an opportunity to get together with all our followers, LinkedIn contacts or Facebook friends, for example, would we?  Or, ok, we might have placed them in categories based on shared interests.  Even then, would we want to be in the presence of all these people of like interests?  I imagine the answer depends quite a bit on our personality but, whatever it is, we gotta give thought to the possibility that, at any given time, there are people with whom we would want to be in touch with physically and there are those we don't.  Also, that there is a time when it's convenient to connect and a time when it is not. And, there is a tool, a medium, for every preference. 

More than anything, however, all this repeatedly brings home to me the distinction between what really matters and what doesn't.  What.  People close to me matter to me.  A lot.  However, a few offline contacts/friends have come to matter, too.  And the joy (the what) that they bring to my life is invaluable - even if just for a season.  So, while we *cough* I *cough* bond with a new PlayBook (thanks for helping me choose @MizDurie), discover new ways to connect online and indulge in reading on the go, I've come to accept a few things:  (1) The fast pace and accoutrements of technology will be around for a while.  (2) The occasional mild frustration is bearable when compared with the thought of a severed limb.  (3) There is peace in creating at my own pace and (4) It's important that I remain grounded and book face time!


Updated: 2012-03-28 at 4:28PM with link to story on FB's Timeline.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Writers' Heaven

How often do we get the opportunity to occupy our comfort zone? (Not thinking in the sense of Occupy Wall, Bay, Main and other streets now.  Stay with me.)  I mean occupy as in filling up our entire comfort zone  with, and being engaged in, something that is so satisfying, it moves us.  Hmm.  Occupy to the point of being moved.  And, we might have a few comfort zones but, I'm talking about that special one; the one you'd refer to as the zone.  Truth is, depending on our particular situations, we don't get such an opportunity very often.  What to do?  What to do?  If it means that much to us, we have to make these opportunities; make the time to indulge in and bask in and revel in that zone.

I don't know whether this has ever happened to you, but, over the past couple of years - and, more so, in the past few months - it has happened to me.  It's that phenomenon where, you publicly express your desire or preference for something and, all of a sudden, you become aware of like things around you.  Once I finally knocked some sense into my head and woke up conscious to the fact that my not being a published writer does not make me any less of a writer; once I recognized the fact (read: fact) that I had to write or suffocate; once I nodded my head in agreement with my handsome inner editor that I was not in love with the idea of writing (though, what a lovely idea, eh?) but the act of writing - and that the act is hard, grueling, at times frustrating work that might not even be rewarding except in the relief and satisfaction that the words on the page are exactly the words you wanted to get out; the story you wanted to tell...  Once I got all that out, or done, or in, I began to see opportunities to help me on this journey.  Folks around me - beside my sis @MizDurie, my harshest and gentlest critic, and my mother @jawil7, my biggest fan, in whose eyes none of my writing is ever crap (Language! Sorry, mother!) - started talking to me, and getting me to talk, about my writing.  In time, encouragement came from other quarters like Twitter - people whom  I'd never met before, but seemed to realize what my writing meant to me. Imagine my joy when I saw a comment on one of my posts from @grammakaye the other day!  Precious little things like that...

And, bigger things, too!  I long ago signed up for alerts to communications courses organized by my workplace.  Imagine my delight when I saw one for Creative Communicators! I registered. The long and the short, turns out I had registered for writers' heaven!  And I didn't have to die or anything!  It was a glorious day spent occupying my comfort zone.  And, people who "get it"; who get "this writing thing" were there.  Do you know how much of a relief it is not to have to explain the wherefores (read: whys) of yourself as a writer?  It's surprising how light that makes you feel. The facilitators, @imruthwalker and @gwynnscheltema, gently helped me discover, hitherto yet unknown (to me, anyway) abilities within.  (It was like that time I went to audition for that ad, and the casting director asked me to convey a particular emotion.  It was not until that moment that I knew I could cry on cue!)  So, there we were, in writers' heaven.  It was a mixed group - folks at different places on their own journeys.  We shut the doors; shut out the rest of the workplace - and the world.  We locked ourselves away and made ourselves at home.  Home.  Just looking at that word, knowing the weight of the meaning it holds in relation to my writing, brings tears.  I have a bit of a reference to a Robert Frost's poem on my Twitter account.  But, the desired quote from "The Death of the Hired Man" says, "Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in."  I live in writing.  It's a haven for me. (The Lord knows what I mean; He gets it.) It's that place where, if they don't take me in, I'd be homeless...

I'm glad they've taken me in.  Who's "they"?  Doesn't matter.  At this moment, though, "they" just might be my alter ego which has an alter ego - which isn't me!  The little voices in my head must be them plotting how to get out.  Periodically, I pay them some mind, introduce them to my handsome inner editor, and, as soon as we transcribe their stories, they go quiet again.

'Til next time.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

No Mad Rush Required

Ever get the feeling that we're all flying about in this social media sphere, occasionally bumping into each other?  That each of us is trying to say something profound and original, while kinda knowing, deep down, that, if we have thought of it, somebody else, somewhere on this planet of seven billion plus people, must have thought of it, too?  That the race then becomes, who can get to put it out there first, in front of the widest audience - and be recognized as the author or creator.

I get that feeling.  Sometimes, that's exactly the kind of race in which I find myself.  There's so much information at our fingertips, it's one thing to rummage through the sheer pile of it all to find a gem.  It's another to be the creator of that gem!  This brings to mind a few lines from that piece I "discovered" and studied for my dramatic monologue for the audition for the part I got in the ad the other day (may I buy another "for"?)  The piece is from George Bernard Shaw's "Man and Superman" (ACT I, 182) .  Tanner is speaking to Tavy (Octavius) about the raging tension, if you will, between the "artist/man" and the "mother/woman": "Our minds are nothing more than this knowledge of ourselves, and he who adds one jot to such knowledge, creates new mind, as surely as any woman creates new men."  Who would not want to add to the body of knowledge that now exists? Now.  Now.  (Get it? Moving target.)  It is a challenge with which doctoral and other students grapple.  A lot.  Heck, it's not just a student/scholarly thing.  In the world outside the classroom, that desire to add to the body of knowledge among human beings is most times simply referred to as "making my mark". 

And, these days, it is way easier to do that.  (For the purpose of this post, never mind the kind of mark.)  And, if we can do it - add to knowledge or make our mark in such a way that we receive (almost) instant recognition and, quite possibly, reward, well, it certainly helps to explain the mad rush to do so.

But, oh, how tiring.  And, what do we give up in the pursuit of this goal?  It has taken me a while to learn - everybody doesn't learn at the same pace - that the joy is not in finishing first and standing out and and and...  But, instead, in being courageous enough to create, and being aware that God has blessed each of us with that something already unique to each of us - our unique selves.  That, if we simply be ourselves and let Him help us discover our talents and gifts and use them, we can - and will - exceed our own expectations.  And, be happy.

No mad rush required. 

Claudia 

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

Way to go! You dreamer and creator, you!

You know how sometimes you make an adamantine decision to do something, and, one day into the next, procrastination reigns, the next thing you know it’s like two and a half years after and it’s still not done? Ever get that? Of course, you can hardly help but wonder what happened to that rock hard resolution? What was sharp enough to poke a hole – sometimes not easily detected – into your iron-clad resolve? Whatever it was, it succeeded. And you wake up one day and kinda go, “Hmm. Whatever happened to my dream to do so and so?"

Well, this post isn’t about the lost dreams or the procrastination or the poked hole or the rusty resolution. Nope. This is about acknowledging and saluting you if you have ever had the courage to dream and then do it! This is about admiring your perseverance and your vim, vigour and vitality; your guts and gusto in going against the odds to get to your goal. And, believe me, sometimes it takes a lot of guts. And gusto!  I know.  I stepped out of my comfort zone again today.  It wasn't an awful experience, but it did remind me that creativity requires strength.

We live in a cynical world and people can be brutal in their criticisms. They don’t have to know you (and even those who do, how well do they?) to try to crush every move you make. You would think they get paid to do it (some do, I guess); that they find a warped and twisted joy in doing it (some do, I guess). On top of that, they have a tool to effect that criticism loud and clear and for many to see (read: read). For, with all the social networking and mobile apps and what not, a venomous word is just a click away, most times from behind that previously-spoken-about wall of anonymity.

When one finds the courage to do according to his/her dream, being grounded, and having time-tried-and-tested support, is paramount. You gotta have the people you have known, and who have cared about you from Adam, in your corner. For, once you create something, here come the editors! They never…well, make that, they don’t (it would appear) have the guts to create something, perhaps fearing that there are others out there like themselves who can’t wait to tear ‘em down and rip ‘em to shreds. They opt not to be creators but editors. Not the constructive type, either. So, you create and put it out there and the response (read: backlash) from the small online world (each person is just a touch of a button away which makes it small) comes fast and furious. As you know, no matter what, you will never – as in never – be able to please everyone. I mean, come on, look at how many were displeased with Jesus. Jesus!

It takes guts to create. And, it takes guts to share it with someone as you risk ridicule or rejection. Be wise in your choices regarding with whom you share and make sure to make a paper trail. Be creative with wild abandon but apply common sense and wisdom in your transactions. As a well-meaning creative person with good intentions, you might not even be able to fathom how cruel some will get as they set out to ravish your new ideas, or even just “change it a little”, to call it their own.

Use up your God-given talent; He’s got your back. Be wise. Be fearless.

And, way to go! You dreamer, doer, creator and achiever you!


 
Claudia
http://www.cyopro.com/
www.twitter.com/cyopro