Steven David Clements

Summer comes to Slann Island

I want to thank all my die hard readers who kept checking for updates while I was busy wrapping up my culminating semester at UI & U. It’s wonderful to continue to see readers from all over the world dropping by--A big hello to all our readers in Brazil for example! Everyone who visits please write to me. I love to hear from my readers. If you're not a big writer just a quick "Hello from (where ever you're from)!" will do. It will be fun seeing how many international readers are out there.

Now summer is here, the Bachelor degree is complete and the Master’s Degree is on the horizon. I hope
to have more time to dedicate to this blog.

Summer breezes are definitely in the air here on Slann Island. The temperatures are starting to climb and the beach has been beckoning. I took the short drive out to the beach the other day and found that in spite of the rising gas prices and lousy economy, Edisto Beach was bustling with activity. We had a good time building sand castles and day dreaming. Kinh always has to add his personality to the sand castles (above). What could be better than a lazy day on the beach on an barrier South Carolina Island?

Vaccinate A Village- Lowcountry Red Cross

Our International Services committee has established a Lowcountry Volunteers team for Vaccinate a Village and we invite all to join our team, the LOWCOUNTRY CHAPTER VOLUNTEERS. $1 will vaccinate a child against Measles. Below is the link for the Vaccinate a Village site.  We hope  to vaccinate three villages - for a total of $1500, which could be just $10 for 150 volunteers to reach our goal.

via lowcountryredcross.org

It is hard for many of us to imagine that a disease so preventable could still be killing hundreds of children around the world daily—yet it is. I can think of no other initiative that is so effective at saving lives. $1.00 saves 1 child’s life. $500.00 can vaccinate an entire village. I am proud to be a part of this group of volunteers and I would like to ask my readers to join with me. Remember every dollar raised goes to vaccinate one child. Let's wipe out measles once and for all!

A Mini-Vacation, Edisto Beach and Spring Dreaming

With temperatures rising to the 70s on Saturday, a longing for spring came to the forefront of our minds. The kitchen table was brought out onto the deck and breakfast, lunch, and dinner were enjoyed under a shady branch of a live oak. Mother Nature convinced us that spring had arrived early. At breakfast, conversation turned to the Japanese garden plans that had been abandoned years before, and we were soon in the yard cleaning, clipping, cutting, and stacking debris for a bon fire later.

Groceries needed for our fireside gathering gave us the excuse we needed to head to Edisto Beach. There, others equally smitten with the promise of spring were strolling up and down the shore.

Out of our shoes and trekking along shell strewn beach, the sound of the waves washed away any remaining tension. Walking past the palmetto palms of Edisto Beach State park gives the island an almost tropical feel. It is easy to lose track of time in this tranquil setting, and the sun was just beginning to set when we tore ourselves from the sandy shore.

After a quick stop at the Island’s Piggly Wiggly, we were back home starting the bon fire that lit the entire yard in its soft warm glow. Up on the deck, we enjoyed hours of spontaneous laughter and good food by candle light. It was one of those rare unplanned occasions that turned into something better for not being planned.

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Wrapping up the B.A. in a Winter Term

Photo: Winter Blues: enhanced photograph taken of the marsh behind my house for an art studio project.

Last week I began the residency period that kicks off my final semester as an undergraduate. This will be an independent studio study. I will examine novel-writing through the immigrant and refugee lens. The focus will be on my creative writing. I intend to finish a novel in progress, Goodbye, Delicate Strangers. This book is about a refugee’s escape from Vietnam, therefore I will be looking at both fiction and nonfiction forms of writing that will emphasize the immigrant and refugee experience. Though I have researched and studied this in the past, I feel it is important to thoroughly understand the immigrant and refugee outlook to add a measure of authenticity to my novel. Some key questions will be: what is life-like for refugees forced from their homeland and required to adapt to a radically different lifestyle? What are common issues all immigrants face coming to a new country? As a non-immigrant person, how can I relay these findings through my writing across a cultural and racial divide with a degree of believability to both an immigrant and non-immigrant audience?

Haiku—Reflections of a Study in Sacred Geometry

 

Φ random fractal
Nature’s math, conceptual
Intellectual

The same semester that I was struggling to complete a required art studio, I was undertaking a study in Sacred Geometry.  The outcome was that it boiled over into both my writing and artwork as evidence by the poetry above and my photographic art below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Involute

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vallarta Curves

Dragon Rider?—What do you see?

 

      Have you ever stared at something, like say, the grain of the wood on your desk, and been able to spot areas in the grain that look like something else?  You probably remember doing it as a kid while looking at the clouds in the sky.  One semester I had an art studio requirement to fulfill.  I gave artistic photography a shot. I really liked the idea of making artwork out of those images, maybe others would be able to see same thing or something different.  Either way, I thought it would be interesting and fun. I snapped this photo in the mountains outside of Puerto Vallarta. The  tree itself was fascinating. It looked like several smaller trees twisted together to form one tree. As I began to manipulate the color and shadows for this project, what I thought looked like the form of a helmed rider and dragon started to appear.  What do you see?

Another Year Another Adventure

     I still get confused sideways looks when I tell folks I'm a student. I can't blame them. I suppose it is something of a novelty for someone over 40 to still be an undergrad—albeit, not as much as it once was. I have often questioned my sanity since I decided to finish my degree after a nearly 20 year hiatus. The school I attend, Union Institute and University, caters to adult students and most students I have met there are over 30. The winter semester starts this weekend. It will be my culminating term at UI & U. It has been one hell of a journey. When I separated from the military in 1992, I attended Charleston Southern University for one year. After that, life's circumstances forced me to take on a full-time job to support a new family. I told myself, “one day I'll finish what I started.” But, like so many “someday” promises we make to ourselves, the weeks, months, and years started slipping away without the fulfillment of the dream. It took another life changing event to thrust me back into academia. They say every cloud has a silver lining, and returning to school was mine. When the economy tanked in 2008, the prospects for jobs looked particularly bleak. After many dead-end searches, I thought that just maybe this was the time to pick up where I left off with my computer science degree. Knowing me better than I know myself, a friend asked me why I wasn't going to go after a degree in something I really enjoyed. “Because there is no money in what I enjoy,” was my reply. Wisely, he chided back, “You have to do what you love or you will not be successful at it anyway.” Though I readily dismissed his advice, the seed was planted. I started doing internet searches for colleges with English, literature, or creative writing degrees. Now over two years later, I find myself wrapping up a degree with emphasis in writing and literature.
     So, what are my resolutions for this year?  They are arranged in tiers. The most important one for me is to cling to the moments I have with my children, friends, and other family members--to perfect "living in the moment."   Then there is the “hum-drum” tier of resolutions that nearly everyone makes like, to lose weight, stay on a schedule, and write more, among others.  Professionally,  I will be more focused.  The search has begun for a publisher for my nearly completed  novel manuscript, Good Bye, Delicate Strangers, and an institution to complete my graduate work--both tasks are bound to bring many disappointments.  My shell is not  so hard and that needs some work too.   Wish me luck. 

Merry Christmas from Slann Island

 

Somehow I don't think I will get my wish for a foot of snow on my lawn by tomorrow. 

I finished up my Christmas shopping yesterday.  I don't think it’s much of a stretch to say, like most people, I paid my homage to Wal-Mart this season.  And Wal-Mart, in keeping with their Holiday tradition thanked their customers by making them wait an hour in line to pay said homage. I don't mean to pick on them but has anyone ever seen all, or even most, of the many registers they have open? It is remarkable that they have so many check-out aisles yet never open more than a few.  I had time to think as I stood there.  Since the economy has been rather bad wouldn't it have been nice if Wal-Mart hired a few more temporary holiday helpers from the community--at least enough to meet the demand?   Though in fairness, I suppose it is partly how they keep prices down, and as long as I keep coming and standing in line why should they hire more people?  Ok so nevermind.  I was foolish enough to wait until then to do my grocery shopping.  It didn't really damper my mood anyway.  I enjoy people watching.  People really get into the holiday spirit this time of year.  It is amazing how much they spend.  Most of the carts around me were packed full of goodies. I suppose it was just the lines and the thought of the coming bill that made so many of them angry.  On the way home however, my faith in my fellow man was restored.  As I crept through the traffic, the cacophony of horns were surely those caught up in the spirit of the season wishing all a most joyous and happy holiday.  

 

Now, as I sit looking out at the marsh as the sun comes up and the chill and my hopes for snow rapidly disappear, I think how nice this moment is. I have been given this particular second as a gift from God to look out and enjoy the majesty of creation.  I am reflecting on what I want Christmas to mean to me.  Tonight, when my daughters and I go to the Christmas Eve service, and when they open their gifts in the morning, and when we go to my Sister's for dinner, I want more than anything else to be in the moment like I am this one. To recognize that life is so fleeting and that this is what matters.

A New Kind of Puppy?

 
They said one of the perks to moving to the boondocks was that we could raise our own chickens. There is nothing like fresh eggs from your own chickens we were told.   So, last year we bought about twenty chicks.  Even though Kinh, being an architect, insured that they had the most artistically designed chicken coop this side of the Mason Dixon We had to keep them in doors until they were a little older.  Little did we know this would invoke the motherly instinct in Gingkota.  She immediately claimed these chicks as her own and would not let anyone near them.  She went into hysterics with her hackles standing on end if Frankie, our Doberman Pincher, so much as looked their way.    She no longer wanted to leave the house or even eat unless we brought the food to her post beside the chicks.  Once I woke to her mournful cries when one of them died in the night.  She kept them herded together and literally claimed them as her puppies. Luckily, she lost interest as they got a little older and had to move to the chicken coop.

 

Perhaps this created some sort of identity crisis amongst the chickens.  They refused to lay eggs for over a year when we expected them after six months.  Once they finally produced, they had more surprises in store for us, like the time we discovered that they laid an egg about the size of a dime.  I imagined the guilty chicken sitting there in her roost feeling something going on down there, saying to herself..I am a dog not chicken, I am  a dog not chicken, ooops,  I guess I am a chicken.. and then proceeded to lay normal size eggs.

 

(The egg is hiding behind the dime)

 

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