Tucson Writer Editor

Getting ready for the celebration!

Posted on December 29, 2013 by sheilawill

Many celebrations are coming up! 2014 awaits! “A Certain Slant of Light. Emerging from the Shadows of Mental Illness” signing and reception on Friday, Jan. 17 from 5-7 p.m. at Our Place Clubhouse, 66 E. Pennington St. But most of all I can’t wait for Ethan and Steph’s visit to Tucson over Martin Luther King Day weekend. Newly engaged at our Southwest Harbor home last weekend — actually the proposal took place at our adored spot by the ocean, the Wonderland path in Acadia National Park — I just want to hug them both. I want to see Steph’s ring that Ethan picked out by himself.

So I needed to check out Tucson eating establishments to wine and dine the happy couple. I asked Facebook friends, who came up with myriad suggestions. We’ve decided on 47 Scott downtown, which should be quiet, and has been commended by the New York Times for its inventive cocktails.

Eating is important. I’ve also decided on Hacienda del Sol for happy hour on Sunday. It’s the prettiest Tucsony spot in the foothills by the Catalina Mountains..

Then there are hiking spot to consider. Today we walked along the Yetman trail to the stone house in the Tucson Mountains.

At the stone house. framed by the Tucson Mountains in the background

Hiking is a great way to visit, especially during our glorious Tucson winter, and especially when so much of the engagement celebration relies on eating. I’ll suggest a hike in each of our three local mountain ranges — the Yetman trail in the Tucson Mpuntains; Sabino Canyon in the Catalinas, since Steph has never been there; and Douglas Spring trail in the Rincons.

Whenever we’re hiking after a hiatus from being in the desert it’s hard to believe I don’t go more often. Maybe after three hikes with Ethan and Steph in a few weeks, we’ll want to celebrate 2014 by hiking more ourselves.

Posted in Bopping Around Tucson, Family Matters, Nature Girl | Tagged 47 Scott, A Certain Slant of Light, Hiking as celebration, Our Place Clubhouse, Santa Catalina Mountains, Tucson Mountains, Yetman Stone House trail | 4 Comments

I’m happy

Posted on December 15, 2013 by sheilawill

Everybody’s talking about happiness, even doing research on it. The New York Times jumped onto the happywagon today, looking at studies over four decades. Duh. Faith, family, community and work matter most. Believing in something such as the magical beauty of trees. Knowing that my two amazing children have taught me so much about life. And still, after being away from Mt. Desert Island for 11 years, my attachment to that community is intact.

Fifty percent of our ability to be happy stems from genetics. I can’t remember the other 38 percent that’s super-important. Gratefully, there’s 12 percent left over that we can mess with that contributes to happiness. The big “surprise” in the NYT study is how great an effect work has on our lives. I like my job where I mostly interview interesting people. I write. I edit. I’m known as the “ruthless cutter.” It’s fun.

But what I’ve always known about myself: Messing with my own ideas brings the greatest happiness. I suppose that’s creativity. Or independence, being in charge of my own work. Fighting wimpyness. I’ve always believed that I’m capable of doing anything (I can’t imagine it has anything to do with my genetics).

“We can do it!” says Rosie the Riveter. My good friend Phyl sent me these socks last week.

But there’s anxiety (definitely genetic) that comes with wanting a project to be perfect. I need to take care of everything. A motherly attachment, perhaps. Haven’t felt such anxiety in a long time. I’m about to birth to “A Certain Slant of Light: Emerging from the Shadows of Mental Illness” with the Our Place Clubhouse Thursday Writing Group. It’s thrilling. And I love the group’s kindness, appreciation and friendship.

I’ve been waking at 5:32 a.m. most mornings this past month. I worry about having everything done in time for publication, or I decide to change or include a citation on the title page. What about the acknowledgements, have I left anyone out?

Back to happiness and my current dilemma balancing creativity/work and anxiety/worry. It’s been nice having a job where for the first time in my life I’m not in charge. Yet there’s nothing as satisfying as working on my own creative project. I’ve been able to reduce my anxiety as I’ve gotten older. Makes me happy.

So here’s how I would extend today’s NYT happiness article:

Fight the good fight. Find someone you love to grow old with — even if it’s for 20-year increments. Speak up to change the world. Gaze at your children’s beautiful faces as often as possible. Learn how to relax. Check out history, preferably in real places.

petroglyphs in the Tucson Mountains

Take on creative projects only intermittently or learn how to reduce my anxiety more. First step: Take a walk in sunny Tucson.

Posted in Baby Boomers, Bopping Around Tucson, Fight wimpiness, Mental illness/civil rights | Tagged A Certain Slant of Light, creative projects, happiness and genetics, happiness research, Our Place Clubhouse, overcoming anxiety, Rosie the Riveter | 3 Comments

Almost there…Our Place Clubhouse writers step forth!

Posted on November 17, 2013 by sheilawill

Are excitement and anxiety flip sides of the same coin? How come I started waking up at 5:30 a.m. this week? What yummy appetizers will Orlando, Autumn and their crew at Cafe 54 prepare for the OFFICIAL BOOK LAUNCH of A Certain Slant of Light: Emerging from the Shadows of Mental Illness?

Mark your calendars: Friday, Jan. 17 from 5-7 p.m. at Our Place Clubhouse, 66 E. Pennington St. The Clubhouse and Cafe 54 are under the umbrella of Coyote Task Force, of which I’ve been a board member since 2007.

Our book has everything — heartfelt writing, poetry, Emily Dickinson, neuroscience, hope, Suzi Hileman, memoir, laughter, great quotes, sad times, artwork, references, collaboration, surprises, photographs of wonderful people, a few statistics, what you can do to help reduce the stigma of mental illness, and lots of love.

If you want to meet us all, munch on a yummy lemon square or two, we’ll see you on Jan. 17!

Cafe 54 makes other great goodies too!

We’ll also be signing A Certain Slant of Light: Emerging from the Shadows of Mental Illness at Stroll and Roll with Suzi Hileman at the Christina-Taylor Green Linear Park on Jan. 11, 2014, part of Beyond Tucson to commemorate the Jan. 8, 2011 tragedy in Tucson. We’re all in this together!

I’ll have a lot more to share about upcoming book signings. Heading back east for Thanksgiving with my daughter and son-in-law. Enjoy good health with your family and friends. Stay calm. I’ll try.

Posted in Mental illness/civil rights, Neuroscience needs me | Tagged A Certain Slant of Light, Beyond Tucson, Cafe 54, Emily Dickinson, lemon squares, Our Place Clubhouse, Tucson book signings | Leave a comment

Saturday morning, oh Saturday morning

Posted on October 19, 2013 by sheilawill

It’s confusing when you come from Maine. One thing I know for sure: I never want to be cold again, and I’ve become a weather wimp after living in Tucson for 11 years. It was only 61 degrees this morning when we rode bikes to Frank’s for breakfast (oh brrrr, right). I always take a sweater with me, just in case.

Now I don’t dread October, knowing that snow can’t be far behind. I just made plans with friends for a January visit to the Chihuly exhibit at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix.

I can’t get enough of the Tucson sunshine. Still, something in my cellular memory requires some fall foliage, so it’s up Mt. Lemmon tomorrow.

Antigone Books reminds me of my Oz Bookstore.

This morning I headed to 4th Avenue after breakfast, wanting to wish Trudy at Antigone’s a happy 40th anniversary. Quite a feat for an independent bookstore! I’m impressed. My Oz Bookstore in Southwest Harbor made it to 15 years.

Seems like so long ago when I closed Oz on March 17, 1997. That day felt more like a funeral, not a celebration like at Antigone today. I took it in, browsing through new books and turning Brook’s “Paradise Lust” face out, as I always do.

But there was a bit of sadness too. For so many years, I was so sure that a big part of my identity would be as a bookstore owner. Everything’s changed. If only I could stop taking a sweater with me wherever I go.

Posted in Baby Boomers, Bopping Around Tucson, Mount Desert Island/Maine | 1 Comment

Something else I don’t know how to explain

Posted on October 13, 2013 by sheilawill

I’m not sure how Reiki works and I’m not terribly woo woo. But yesterday I attended an all-day Reiki workshop to learn how to comfort myself and loved ones who are far away in times of trouble (we all have them).

I went because my dear healer friend Kathleen in Bar Harbor suggested it. She’s a close friend in addition to being the real deal. Working with Kathleen for four or five years changed my life before I moved to Tucson in 2002. She can move energy. All I know is that after one or two sessions with her every July I feel different, clearer, calmer. Then we have lunch and talk about the usual things old friends talk about.

Kathleen is a regular person and a healer. She used to be a high school English teacher. She’s trained in massage, shiatsu and Reiki.

Me and my two cohorts yesterday

“Reiki is for stress reduction,” our teacher told the three of us at the workshop. Ok. I’m all for that. I believe in the power of the body’s chakras, seven sites of spinning energy along our spines. All ancient cultural/belief systems refer to them in their own ways.

The point is to clear the chakras, allowing energy to flow freely, enhancing our capabilities for connection to some higher power, intuition, communication, love and compassion, self-empowerment, feeling and pleasure, and groundedness.

Are we all about electricity? Doesn’t the clarity of the chakras change from day to day? Maybe there’s more gunk blocking our chakras one day than another? Do we have this much power to change our lives? If we do, or believe anything enough, can we make it happen? What part do our brains play? I asked a lot of questions yesterday.

I’m pleased with myself because I participated in the touchy-feely parts of the workshop, something I usually poo poo. I was curious and wanted the full experience. I also got tired and just wanted to nap all afternoon. Then have someone, perhaps a nice mother like our teacher, give us milk and cookies. Maybe that’s a sign.

The day-long distraction, learning experience, life-changing event — I’m not sure what it is yet — calmed me. I’m not as worried about renting my house in Maine. It will happen, my optimistic self says, quelling my cynical side.

Which chakra is calling to me now? I’ll let you know.

Posted in Neuroscience needs me | Tagged Bar Harbor, chakras, energy movers, Reiki, Reiki, stress reduction, times of trouble | 7 Comments

Ryan Gosling’s eyes or Heisenberg’s hat?

Posted on October 10, 2013 by sheilawill

His face was hidden by dark glasses. He was a skinny little guy whose shape was more like Breaking Bad’s Jesse Pinkman than Walter White, aka Heisenberg the meth kingpin. His hat was the right shape but it was a brown tweed, not the flat black hat that transformed Walt into the baddest bad guy.

I was tired after staying up two nights till midnight watching the last 10 episodes of “Breaking Bad.” Never mind blue meth, the show itself was over-the-top addictive.

A pleasant morning walk to our Starbucks social gathering would straighten me out. Our usual coffee-talk pals were there. And the guy with the hat and dark glasses. He was about to roll a cigarette when we sat down and started chatting.

“Excuse me, are you two from Whitefish, Montana?” he asked. “Your voices sound familiar.”

Then he removed the dark glasses. “Holy shit, you look like Ryan Gosling,” I blurted. “It’s your eyes” (certainly wasn’t his stringy blond hair).

“You’re the third person who told me that this week,” he replied. The guy — I later discovered his name was Mike — was an upscale hobo. Riding trains was his specialty; he was only in Tucson to make amends with his 19-year-old son. Mike had finally found the kid, who was angry at being found by his non-father father.

Mike wanted to know what movies Ryan Gosling was in because he didn’t go very often. “Maybe you don’t have the money to go to movies,” I said, stupidly. I presumed he was poverty stricken like hobos of old during the Depression.

“Hey, don’t assume I have no money just because I don’t go to movies,” he said. “I could take all of you to the movies. You know how much I make [doing some kind of construction work at UCLA a few months every year]? $106 an hour. You’re offending me.”

I apologized, noting an unforeseen stereotype popping up. Mike must have accepted my apology. He walked over to his Toyota truck and returned with a copper bracelet and gave it to me as a gift. “I made this,” he said. “I found this piece of copper at a railroad in Emeryville, California. I poked holes in it with a nail.”

“Good luck to you,” I said, having zilch idea why I was the recipient of this bracelet.

This is what happens at Starbucks. Every day a new adventure, usually not as weird as Mike/Ryan/Walt and the mystery of the copper bracelet.

I’ve heard that wearing copper jewelry is good for your health. Why me, why did I warrant a gift? Am I that entertaining? Or was there another reason?

Posted in Bopping Around Tucson, The Rest of the World | Tagged "Breaking Bad", copper jewelry, Emeryville, Heisenberg, railroads, Ryan Gosling, Starbucks, upscale hobos | 9 Comments

A Retirement Parfait

Posted on September 27, 2013 by sheilawill

Our own resort pool

At least I get to live in the sunshine. Even if I never retire living in Tucson is like being at a resort 24/7 (see the pool next door). No more teaching, which took up so much of my waking attention. Writing — and getting paid for it — has always been my dream. And here I am.

Am I partially retired? I have my evenings and weekends off to read, watch “Breaking Bad,” walk to the movies and indulge in frozen yogurt afterward.

This is the life. But I wonder: Should I have saved more when I was younger to stash away for my old age? Should I sell my Maine house since I still have no winter renters this year?

A retired librarian friend works a few days a week at a florist shop to get out of the house and make a little spending money. Another friend who taught university for 43 years retired in May at 65 and is taking life as it comes. She spent the month of September exploring New York City neighborhoods instead of exploring the minds of college students. Now she’s accompanying an old friend who’s moving cross-country to Portland (the other one in Oregon). What will she do next? I’ll vicariously follow her adventures.

I have friends in Tucson who taught all over the world for 40 years. Now they’re back in the college town where they met. They walk three miles daily, have coffee, meet with friends. Oh, did I mention that they’re also playwrights? Seems like a nice retirement.

Others who worried about retiring and having enough to do have found that the days go by pleasantly enough. Some want to live closer to grandchildren. Some are still considering their options. Yep, we baby boomers have options — if not funds — for leaving the workforce. Remember that book about pursuing your dreams “and the money will follow?”

I’ve been lucky enough to have three satisfying careers: high school and college teaching, owning a children’s bookstore, and being a journalist.

What are the layers in your retirement parfait? Any goopy sauce stopping your plans from sticking, nuts or berries mixing things up, something frothy on top that you’re wild about? I’d like to hear from you!

Posted in Baby Boomers, Journalism/Writing | Tagged children's bookstores, parfaits, pursuing dreams, retirement, teaching careers, Tucson resorts, writing life | 4 Comments

Two from Ohio, our political heartland

Posted on September 22, 2013 by sheilawill

Two from Ohio, one each from New Brunswick, Maine, Massachusetts, New York City, Chicago, St. Louis, Oklahoma, Los Angeles and a third-generation Tucsonan. Watermelon salad with feta and mint, pasta with veggies and fresh basil from a Trader Joe’s plant, freshly husked corn salad, local tamales (from the native Tucsonan), homemade brownies — with or without nuts, easy kale and chickpea salad (should have gotten the baby kale at Costco), yummy oatmeal-type cookies, outstanding roasted baby peppers with goat cheese app. Three new bottles of red wine appeared, I know not from whom.

All this at our first house party in five years of living in our hood. All but one couple — who come from way far east near Le buzz — have no need to come to our neighborhood Starbucks, where we stroll every morning, where friendships germinated over strong coffee.

An age span of 40 years among 11 guests: actors and playwrights, a pastor, two engineers plus a retired one, four mamas — one new and three older, a photographer and other artists across the board — from graphic designer to avant-garde jeweler to writer. Four of the artists were also teachers and peace corps volunteers from Peru to Nepal. Two of the mamas have the same birthday. Two women chose Chicago as their favorite city. The photographer discovered that years ago she had taken professional photos of two of the actors. The writer had watched one of the actors perform in Maine 25 years ago. There was even one NRA member!

Crossing boundaries of friendship and place of origin. What a wonderful evening.

And why — across 3,000 miles of these United States — can’t we all get along?

Posted in Baby Boomers, politics, The Rest of the World | Tagged coffee hangouts, Costco's, friendship, kale, Le buzz, Starbucks, Trader Joe's, Tucson | 2 Comments

Landlords Beware!

Posted on September 19, 2013 by sheilawill

Here’s my wonderful house in Southwest Harbor, Maine. I’ve rented it for the academic year and in August for the past 10 years. Fabulous renters have included a Jackson lab scientist from San Diego, a Hungarian College of the Atlantic student and her man, a couple who said my house “feels like a hug.” I once had to evict a woman who kept the shades drawn and made boat slipcovers all day — maybe she sold drugs, who knows. Boozers and teachers, filmmakers and professors have lived there. The worst renters were a family with a young mom who’s still revered as the primary yoga teacher in town. I understand wanting your kids to be autonomous, free and creative, but kids carving their names in my dining room table, drawing all over the newly painted white walls, parents lying about having two dogs who dug up my yard seemed a bit much.

Landlords beware! I’m now dealing with the “non-renters” who were supposed to move in Sept. 1. Yesterday the non-renter told my SWH next-door neighbor they’re moving in next month. “Everything is fine,” the young, charming neuroscientist from an Ivy League university said as he picked up the extra bed he bought and stored in my garage over the summer.

“EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE,” I emailed him yesterday, unable to hold in my anger. The non-renter drove eight hours in July to see my house. We clicked. He gave me a security deposit and drove back home.

Yes, what a perfect arrangement! He was going to rent my house for multiple years. He asked for an 11-month lease. With his beautiful family he would spend school vacations at my beloved seaside home. He would be there for a week or two every month setting up his new island business.

Aug. 23, the date I was supposed to receive the signed lease, first and last months’ very reasonable rent, which even included the fastest wifi on the island, came and went. Whaaa? I called. I emailed. Multiple times. Okay, I’m a sucker for neuroscientists.

I’ve always trusted my perceptiveness, my ability to check out people. I’ve had good luck with renters. Now I have none. Worst of all, I’m questioning my ability to trust seemingly decent people. If the non-renter would have only responded to my emails and calls, told me by Sept. 1 that he wouldn’t be able to rent my house, I would have understood. No details asked.

Now I’ve missed real renters for the academic year from the Mount Desert Island schools, COA and Jackson Lab. I hope it will return, but for now I miss my sense of trust.

Posted in Mount Desert Island/Maine, Neuroscience needs me | Tagged College of the Atlantic, Jackson lab, neuroscience, parenting, renting, sense of trust, Southwest Harbor | 5 Comments

The Art of Wal-mart

Posted on August 24, 2013 by sheilawill

July 31, 2013: Bentonville, Arkansas, corporate home of Wal-mart. I don’t shop there. But a friend told me not to miss the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, endowed by Wal-mart kingpin Sam Walton’s daughter Alice. Since we were driving through Arkansas on our way back to Tucson from Maine, I figured, why not?

Rosie the Riveter by Norman Rockwell — All American, right?

Norman Rockwell, Thomas Eakins, Mary Cassatt, Andy Warhol, Andrew Wyeth, Mark Rothko, you name the artist — they were all there.

I was excited.

But it was Wal-mart. As soon as we entered the magnificent, modern glass building, Wal-mart greeters accosted us. After politely responding — once — I scurried into the first gallery but that didn’t stop the trademark interlopers.

Looking at art is a solitary activity for me. By the sixth gallery I had been welcomed too many times, plus museum guards were standing around talking loudly. It got to me.

“I really like to look at art quietly,” I told the greeter who walked over to me.

“I’m just trying to welcome you,” she said.

“I’ve been welcomed 20 times already,” I replied (Okay, I’m often prone to exaggeration).

“Humph,” she grumbled, looking at me like I just wasn’t right.

Sometimes we want to be left alone.

I still enjoyed the spectacular art but something was gnawing at me.

Was I giving in to Wal-mart, the retail giant that tries to make nice to consumers but won’t allow employees to unionize?

Now Wal-mart is coming to our hood in Tucson. I would prefer Trader Joe’s. But I’m in the minority of the population, although the upscale neighborhood association tried to stop the influx of shoppers searching day and night for bargains. Maybe this Wal-mart won’t sell liquor, and we still don’t know about guns and ammo.

Sometimes I struggle with my ’60s determination to right the world. “Choose your battles,” I’ve always heard. So I try to restrain myself. Was I glad to see paintings that I returned to repeatedly in the Wal-mart world of art? You betcha.

In my notes about Andrew Wyeth’s “Airborne,” I wrote, “Life is mysterious and illusory, like feathers in a breeze on Bennett Island, Maine.”

“Airborne” by Andrew Wyeth

Posted in Baby Boomers, The Rest of the World | Tagged American art, Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, saving the world, unionization, Walmart greeters | 5 Comments