Travel, whether it’s far flung or local, is usually a fertile environment for synchronicity. Sometimes the synchros are obvious. But other times you have to dig beneath the surface and view your environment with a new perspective, new eyes. It’s like microscopic vision. A flash of color seizes your attention or a blur of movement explodes in your peripheral vision. To catch the significance, you have to adjust your perspective.
This photo is of a desert rose. It was in a potted plant on the porch of the cottage in Aruba where we stayed. Although it was outside, it wasn’t in a spot where rain might reach it. On the day we arrived, it wasn’t blooming. It seemed to be held back, in escrow, waiting for the right time, the right moment, waiting for…well,water. So I watered it. Daily. Every morning, I poured a mug of water into the pot and then went around to the other plants on the porch and in the yard, hoping the water would salvage the little shoots, the promises of color and life.
On our third day, a bloom on the desert rose finally opened. The opening seemed to emit a signal – an iguana and a luminous blue desert lizard dropped by for a visit.I felt a kind of silly glee about it and called Rob, Megan, and Avery over for a look. “It’s blooming,” I exclaimed.
At that point, I was trying to figure out certain elements in my novel, the kind of brainstorming you do in the privacy of your own head. If I do XYZ, then A will happen. In other words, I was looking at plot details. That night I took the color of the desert rose into sleep, into my dreams. I dreamed of rose-colored rivers, rose-colored mountains, rose-colored deserts.
The next morning, while shopping at Ting Wei grocery store, I noticed this color everywhere – in the bins of frozen fish,in the tints of the wines, in the colors of shampoos. When I returned to the cottage, I was struck by the color of the hammock on our cottage porch, so like the color of the desert rose.
I think this was the point where I realized that my plot was fine. What I needed was more local color for the Aruba scenes, more of what made the island unique and perfect for my characters.
Is it a synchro? Absolutely. What began with the blooming of a desert rose resulted in a creative realization of what was lacking in my novel.
Glad you're enjoying it, Butternut.
A very poetic realization.
I've been enjoying your book and jotting down notes, and bits of dreams. It oozes with creativity.
The color was key, I think!
I liked the expression Magical little signposts everywhere which Natalie used. If we are observant they are often there.
very neat story! isn't it incredible when those moments of "aha!" happen – the pieces all come together, the light clicks on and you "know" – and interesting to me that the color was the color of blood/life – and the form in which it came, again, life blossoming in the plant – all of which added a depth of color and life to your novel!
i had to click on the cottage image and just sit and feel the desert for a few moments! divine!!
That is an interesting thought. I also dream in color but was surprised to find that not everybody does. I don't think I've dreamed in local color, though. 🙂
I can see you watering that little plant and I certainly understand that excited feeling when nature responds to nurturing.
I loved how you took the colors to sleep with you. A beautiful dreamland.
Enjoyed this gentle post and truly enjoyed getting inside your writers mind.
My WV is dirter.. 🙂
Magical little signposts everywhere.
Hopefully the local colour will help your story bloom too. 🙂
wv = wincifi win sci fi!
I love this post! Thanks for showing us the creative process as it unfolds… The importance dreams synching with real-time events. And the beauty of how it pulled
everything together for you!
You are so in tuned! Amazing how your writer's mind works.