Roger Darnell: On & Up » Best

Urban Lee Ridings and “Who Lives Alone?”

Roger D. — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 01:43:19 +0000

Recently I was going through a folder I’ve held onto over the years, which has some of the poems I wrote the old-fashioned way, with a piece of paper and a pencil or pen, along with some similar keepsakes. Among the other pieces in the collection, my mother is a major contributor. She has always had a great way of giving things that feel special enough to make me want to keep them forever.

Flipping through that folder, looking for something to share with Mom when we visited in January to celebrate her retirement, I found a handwritten poem that’s not mine. At the bottom, the writer signed the piece “Terrapin Ridge,” which is that lovely area in Illinois everyone in my mother’s family remembers as being “home” for a very long, short period of history. I sent this poem, entitled “The Joy of Words: Who Lives Alone?” to Mom, with a query… she replied to say she had not seen it before, and felt surely it was her father’s handwriting. How did I come to have this? While I’m very sorry to say that I don’t have a clear answer, the poem is very special to me, as another of my Grandpa Urban’s gifts that, like the many I’ve received from his daughter, I just want to cherish and keep forever.

Mar. 13 Update: I am embarrassed to have to report findings from my brother (thanks Scott) confirming that “Who Lives Alone?” is actually the work of the gifted poet, Grace E. Easley… and I regret not having better researched this myself before jumping to the concusion above. We live and we learn, and I beg forgiveness. Though I am disappointed to learn that the poem below is not the creation of my grandfather, what remains true is that it was very important to him, and others in our family, and he is very deeply connected to the poem’s poignant sentiments, and to the poem itself, in my family. Spirituality, poetry and written words were of clear interest to Grandpa Ridings, and his passions remain alive in me and my family. I will relate more details on the handwritten poem which made it into my collection as I get a better handle on them. In the meantime, thank you very much for your interest, and I hope you’ll be encouraged to explore other works of Ms. Easley.

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October 3, 2009: Amelia, Eightish

Roger D. — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 03:16:30 +0000

Ramble #8: Amelia, Eightish

Sweetness in the flesh, sunshine itself,
in feminine form, the essence of youth.
Deep of spirit, light of heart and touch…
her happy meditations are illuminating.
Her calm is radiant, her troubles tempests.
Stand in her way at great personal risk.
Anything might come to pass in her lifetime.
God loves Amelia… eight and growing.

August 27, 2009: For Aunt Max I learned today of the passing of my Aunt Maxine...

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May 23, 1992: Hoot Owl Holler, Episode 1

Roger D. — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 17:40:00 +0000

I’m really thankful to a bunch of my cousins for sharing their Facebook memories and pictures of Granny Bea and her home in Greenville, Illinois, out in a place that I think my Uncle Roy dubbed “Hoot Owl Holler.” Thinking about how welcoming Granny Bea always was to everyone, I wanted to use the footage that Bart Ridings shot back on our wedding day, May 23, 1992, (also, his daughter KayeLee’s birthday), pictures provided by Bart, Daniel Ridings and others, and do a little homage to the classic TV sitcom “Cheers.”
Dedicated to the Ridings family, and Urban and Bea’s warm home, where everyone was always welcome, and smiles and laughs were usually in great abundance.

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December 5, 2008: Bumper Crop is now live…

Roger D. — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 23:48:00 +0000

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1986 – 1988: Facing-down the blank page…

Roger D. — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 17:32:00 +0000

Yesterday I wrote a piece for my agency blog entitled “Start cultivating your creativity right now.” In that, I published an excerpt from the forthcoming book “An Illustrated Life” contributed by graphic designer, illustrator and book artist Roz Stendahl. Here are her words, which really made an impression on me:

“I love blank pages. They scream possibilities to me. They clamor for attention. They call to me from across the room while I’m trying to do other work.”

Looking back on my own experiences as a would-be writer over the years, it’s easy for me to see that my own relationship with the blank page has been challenging. Here’s a poem that I wrote in 1986, which is part of my first poetry collection.

Not Now

by Roger Darnell

This portion of life,
this moment I’ve got
is the one that’s for action,
not action-packed thought.

One percent of my life
I have spent at the desk,
yet my most satisfied moments
are when I read and reminisce.

It’s too hard to believe
I can just sit down and write…
but I’m sitting down now –
New words are in sight.

If this is just as it seems
there’s no work for this gift;
just set pen to paper,
apprehensions adrift.

As it seems, so it is;
let your hopes come to pass.
What you create in a second
forms the future of your past.

Though I don’t have the exact date for this revisit to the same theme, I often think about the following poem, written circa 1988, as a sort of hurdle I have overtaken in the past; in that thought, I find the ability to move forward. This poem is part of another forthcoming collection.

Man vs. Paper

by Roger Darnell

A very long time
ago I sat down to write
a poem and the blank
page stared me down.

The words, once
written, may outlast me –
could I possibly
be that smart?

The blank page won.

But another time I rushed
past the blank page to
write the inevitable –
never troubling about
my own pressure.

In that, I proved that
every second wears its own jewel;
nothing must be done –
but, whatever is done
stands a chance in this world;
and, once gone, it could be missed.

Urban Lee Ridings and “Who Lives Alone?” Recently I was going through a folder I’ve held onto...

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January 17, 2008: Ramble #17

Roger D. — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 13:30:00 +0000

The ‘Bumper Crop’ series has at least one more entry, but requires a bit more work on my part before I can post the rest of the story. In the meantime, I wanted to share something from a more recent work. After we moved to the Blue Ridge Mountains almost exactly seven years ago, I found my creative writing energies more or less depleted. Soon, being a father added a new dimension to my life, and the one creative project that stayed on my agenda was to write an epic poem for Amelia, detailing the first day of her life from my perspective. That took over a year, and eventually it may find its way on here. After finishing that, in the moments when life and work settled down, I began to wonder what should come next. The answer found me in the form of a new project I conceived, and dubbed “Ramble.” It’s a document where I intended to write creatively to address the things going on in my life. To keep it brief, I limited the length of each line to 38 characters. The first entry was 73 lines long, and the idea was to make each entry shorter by a single line, so that the last entry eventually will be a single line, which hopefully will present me with something significant. Begun in 2002, my most recent entry on April 28 of this year was number 12, so it is certainly waning. Last week, Amelia invited me to come to her first grade class and tell them a bit about what I do. On that very memorable occasion, I shared the ramble entry I’d written earlier this year for Amelia and Riley, which had the goal of defining them in terms of their human origins… all in 17 lines. Here it is; I hope you enjoy it.

Ramble #17
by Roger Darnell

on your mom’s side, two proud families:
the kieferts, parents of four blonde boys,
each a model citizen, but bill was golden;
and the juliens, fastidious, witty characters,
where ginny was a jewel without compare,
who has become a legitimate queen.
on my side, two families beyond words:
the darnells, parents of five boys, one girl,
where hardship drove jim’s resolve to win;
and the ridings… warm, cheerful folks who
communed in nature and lived simply, and
who raised a bright, shining, happy lila.
there’s this daddy, your wonderful mama,
and oh so many friends and relatives,
three step-grandparents larger than life,
and even a few cats in the mix that make
you up. you are our two grand perfections.

May 9, 2010: Granny Bea Photo Tribute, Ramble #7 I’ve written here before about my “Ramble” creative writing project....

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