The Art of asking

A couple of years ago, I read Amanda Palmer’s fascinating memoir titled the Art of asking. I’ve been a fan since her band, the Dresden Dolls, burst onto the alternative music scene in the early 2000s.

Apart from being a memoir, The Art of asking explores creativity and how to make it a career. Above all, Amanda Palmer’s book shows creatives how to connect and find their audience and ultimately ask them to help sustain her in a relationship that enriches both.

I’m obsessed with the idea of making a living with my creativity.

Over the years, there has been an explosion of entrepreneurial creativity online. People use their skills to create objects that their audience loves and find their patrons.

Blogging off and on over the last decade, I’ve made many connections with my readers. I’ve answered every question, given advice and shared my knowledge.

While I’m on social media, I greet the same faces, converse with the regular commenters, checking in on everyone during the pandemic. It’s a new kind of friendship connection.

It’s a different kind of community that helps me to keep motivated and fills me with joy.

Another excellent way of interacting and asking people to help is to use services like Buy me a coffee which is a simple way of giving back.

Through this web page, you can make a one-off donation that I don’t feel guilty accepting and arrives directly to me with little fuss or cost.

If you are not interested, ignore it, but if I’ve helped you out, made your day, or simply want to show your gratitude go ahead and Buy me a coffee.

 At the beginning of the pandemic, I was paralyzed by fear. I eventually shook it off by returning to something I’ve always loved. Being creative has always been a source of joy for me.
Apart from writing, I love art, reading and music. So I got out my sketchbook which I had been putting aside for years and revived my love of self-expression. It was my therapy.

Then I thought, why not share some of the things I’ve been making with my blog audience? So I started creating a zine, a self-published book or magazine dedicated to sharing personal interests with my readers.

I loved the idea of making something small, personal and well crafted for those people who are already reading along with me on my blogs. It was an enthralling process, which I hope to continue. I’m currently working on two new zines, one about my adopted Sicilian village home and another based around my new current obsession with the recently departed singer Meat Loaf.

My first zine is dedicated to photography. I’ve been taking photos ever since high school. I have gradually documented Sicily’s landscape and architecture, where I’ve lived for nearly two decades. And so, I’ve gathered up some of my favourite images into a collection titled A Sicilian Mosaic.

A Sicilian village, town or city has its personality. Like characters on a stage, they proudly act out their daily dramas as faithfully as any well-rehearsed actor. 

Every place is like an individual tile of precious stone in a golden Sicilian mosaic. Each piece shines as bright as the entire masterpiece.

The mosaic details reveal a particular shade of light, landscape, and character only found in Sicily.

Poetry is and will always be my first love. My poems come from my dreams, imagination and emotions.

In Trinacria Poems, I share poetry inspired by Sicily. The ten poems included in the zine represent an intimate connection to the island through my maternal grandparents. They are the fruits of two decades of experience living on an ancient Mediterranean island. Trinacria Poems also contains original collage artwork, made using personal family photographs and materials.

The Trinacria of the title is an ancient sun and fertility symbol featured on the flags of Sicily and the Isle of Man. In Greek, the word triskeles are linked to the geographic meaning: treis (three) and akra (capes). Also, the Latin triquetra means three peaks.

Both A Sicilian Mosaic and Trinacria poems are currently available on Amazon.