Coping with the Madness of 2020: Create!

“Flowers in Bloom” by Rae L.

When my anxiety or stress levels heighten they are met with an equally strong desire to create. During the “lockdown phase” of the pandemic–March through July–I wrote poetry (almost daily), participated in seminars and workshops, tried new vegan recipes, painted, sang, doodled, and experimented with creative photography.

“Flowers in Bloom” by Rae L.

Since I returned to work in this pandemic season, the drive to create to combat the stress of this moment has been so intense that I had to add micro-creation sessions to my day.

“Flowers in Bloom” by Rae L.

I find a moment to doodle while thinking through a solution or while listening to a podcast or webinar. I fiddle with the lines of a poem I’ve already drafted in the wee morning hours. I transform a photo. I create inspirational Instagram posts.* I cut and tear pages from beautiful magazines and use them in art journal pages. I even do little things to create order out of the chaos of my desks [at home and at work].

“Flowers in Bloom” by Rae L.

Like journaling, there are many, many health benefits of creativity. These small, though intentional, acts of creativity allow me to tune out the chaotic noise of the world and find order within.


About the images: The set of floral art in this post is the work of Rae L, one of my Love Notes friends. She sent the envelope full of cheerful flowers a month or so ago. This is how she’s coping with the madness. Aren’t they lovely?

*A few weeks ago, my desire to create order spilled over to my Instagram page. I wiped my IG clean, changed my name, and created a uniform look for my page. If you have a moment, check it out. Maybe, you’ll be inspired: iamchandralynn.

To Autumn, or, Little Girls with Apples

It dawned on me this morning as I opened an envelope from Fran B, one of my Love Notes pals, that we are nearly a month into the season, and I have not done any “odes to autumn” on the blog. Shocker, right?

I assure you, I have been soaking up the goodness of early autumn as much as I can–the milder temperatures, the gentle breezes, the random highlights [bright oranges, yellows, and reds] in the trees. Academic life during COVID-19 is a level of busy I have never, ever experienced, so it’s been a bit of a struggle getting to the blog, especially since I’m typically screen-weary to the point of tears–or madness.

The artwork featured on the card Fran sent is worth my risking my sanity.

“Cider Mill” (1880) by John George Brown. Oil on Canvas. Daniel J. Terra Collection.

Cider Mill by John George Brown (1831-1913) features five little girls feasting on scrumptious apples they’ve just picked outside a cider mill. It speaks volumes about girlhood, apples, and autumn. The art is part of the Daniel J. Terra Collection of the Terra Foundation for the Arts. [Click the links to learn more about the artist and the masterpiece].

This is a delightful piece of art, but it grabbed my heart because the intensity of and seriousness in the eyes of the little girl with the red bow remind me of my baby niece, Lu, whom you’ve seen on the blog before.

Don’t you think she would fit right in?

Oh, and there’s a bonus–the first stanza of John Keats’ “To Autumn” was beautifully imprinted on the back of the card! If you’ve been keeping up, you know that he’s my favorite British Romantic poet:

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
   Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
   And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
      To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
   With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
      For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Oh, there was even more autumn goodness inside the envelope, but you’ll have to wait for that. 😉

Afraid of Nothing

“Girl Bandz” by Céleste Wallaert

I am deliberate
and afraid
of nothing.

–Audre Lorde, last lines of poem “New Year’s Day” from A Land Where Other People Live


About the Image: The postcard above was sent to me by my literary twin and Love Notes pal, Bianca. She always sends the perfect cards with notes written in her impeccable handwriting, embellished with cute or sophisticated washi tape and stickers. The card features the artwork of illustrator and graphic artist, Céleste Wallaert. You can find out about the artist and see more of her work by following the link. The women’s stance exude Audre Lorde’s words, “I am deliberate/and afraid/of nothing.”

About Love Notes: Speaking of Love Notes, the final round for this year begins October 11th. You need a happy mail distraction to counteract all the madness we’re experiencing, so click the link and get signed up today: Love Notes.

What’s on This Week…

“Found Poetry” by Andrea F.

When I lamented to one of my friends that I do not have time to write [for my blog or anything else] the way I’d like to, she suggested until I regain my footing, that I share “truly wordless posts” on the blog. I’m not sure if I can do completely wordless, but I’ll give her suggestion a try–starting today somewhat.

The last few weeks have been stressful as the troubles of 2020 pile higher and higher. We need a bit of whimsy, sweetness, and light to ease the heaviness. That’s what this yummy postcard from my Love Notes pal, Andrea F, did for me. She sent the “found poetry” card as a “cheerful reminder to enjoy life–almost no matter what.”

I hope you take her advice and treat yourself this week to a cocktail of silly amazement, magical perhaps, fancy, and a hundred gold-fields.

Happy Week!

Until It Flowers Again…

“My Mother’s Garden.” Photo by Suzette R.

The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely

until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing […]

Galway Kinnell, from “Saint Francis and the Sow”


About the image: The delicate flower in this #WordlessWednesday post was photographed by my Love Notes friend, Suzette R. The flower is from her late mother’s garden–an intimate glimpse of a beautiful soul.

#ThursdayTreeLove | Trees in a Field of Sunflowers

Photograph by F.A. Ackermann [Click image for a full view]

At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. –Toni Morrison, Tar Baby

How perfect is this image?

The absolutely gorgeous photo postcard above came from my Love Notes friend, Eileen V. She embellished the postcard with extra sunflower love on front and back and sent it “just because.”

Trees and sunflowers? Just the kind of #ThursdayTreeLove therapy I need.

Be sure to click the image for a full-size view of this scene.


I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.

Two Cards | Appropriate for These Times | #WordlessWednesday

Art by Nola C. Specially colored for me by Christine B.

I read a Washington Post article this morning that reported the number of COVID-19 hospitalizations is rising in several U.S. states.

The card says it all.

It’s hard not to worry, but I am consoling myself with the hope that we are giving birth to something new and healthy.


About the Images: I received the cards in this #WordlessWednesday post from my friend and fellow Love Noter, Christine B. One arrived in April and the other late May. They are so appropriate for these times. The über cute “Socially Distant Hug” coloring card features the artwork of Nola C. She designed a number of free Corona coloring pages. You can find this card and others on her Facebook page.  The pretty “This Sucks” card is from Paper Raven Company. 

Step by Step

I experienced a “letdown” a couple of days ago. It wasn’t exactly unexpected, but it crushed me. In trying to sort things out and figure out the reason for the deep ache, I arrived at grief. It becomes entangled with everything: the loss of my sisters mingles with other [unrelated] losses; the wound reopens, the healing process begins again, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

When we were little girls, my three younger sisters and I loved singing together. One of my sister Karlette’s favorite songs was “Step by Step,” a traditional gospel song. My sister Angie and I sang it to her in the hospital two days before her passing, and again at her funeral. I don’t think I’ve sung the song since, but today a poem my friend Chella shared put the song in my head. Both the song and the poem are what I need right now–when I feel immobilized by disappointment and loss.

We are all experiencing loss right now, trying to find our way and a new rhythm. Maybe, you need these words too.

Midwives of the Soul
Elena Mikhalkova

My grandmother once gave me a tip:
In difficult times, you move forward in small steps.
Do what you have to do, but little by little.
Don’t think about the future, or what may happen tomorrow.
Wash the dishes.
Remove the dust.
Write a letter.
Make a soup.
You see?
You are advancing step by step.
Take a step and stop.
Rest a little.
Praise yourself.
Take another step.
Then another.
You won’t notice, but your steps will grow more and more.
And the time will come when you can think about the future without crying.

About the image: The lovely purple and yellow flowers were created and sent to me by Love Noter Rae L. She sent the postcard for International Women’s Day 2020.

Still Dews.

“Vetch and Milk Thistle.” Photographer, Art Wolfe.

As I head into the weekend and to Sabbath rest, I am whispering in my spirit the penultimate verse of John Greenleaf Whittier’s poem, “Soma.”

Many recognize the words from the hymn, “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind,” but do not know they come from the longer poem. What they also may not know is that Whittier–seeing it as showy or unnecessarily dramatic–was not a fan of singing in church; he believed that God should be worshipped in silent meditation.

Worshipping God through song is the gift I can always offer [alone and with other worshippers], so I do not agree with Whittier’s stance. However, there is incredible value in quiet contemplation and meditation, so on that point, he gets no argument from me.

May these last two verses from “Soma” usher you into a period of quiet rest, meditation, and contemplation.

from “Soma”
John Greenleaf Whittier

Drop thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
Thy beauty of Thy peace.

Breathe through the hearts of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be numb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm!


About the image: The card above came from Karen B, one of my partners for Love Notes 31. The “Vetch and Milk Thistle” scene–from Cappadocia, Turkey–was shot  by photographer-conservationist Art Wolfe.  A portion of the proceeds of the Pomegranate card supports the Sierra Club’s efforts to preserve and protect our planet.