sometimes the best intentions still result in the worst outcome. well, not the absolute worst, but the opposite of the best, at the least.
example- I just tried to ninja-levitate out of our creaky bed, in order to avoid waking my husband. (it didn't work. in fact, i'm convinced that the series of noises was perfectly timed to wake him up to full alertness.)
telling a story. how do we learn to tell a story? and how young do we start doing it? i'm finishing a class in storytelling, and though it was created with well-laid intentions, i am certain that the outcome has landed at the corner of the extreme, and almost absurd, far reaches of what i expected from a class bearing that name.
how do we tell a story to children? to people over 70? to tweens who are in the throes of the years that i have long forgotten, on purpose?
tonight i told a story the old-fashioned way, to a group of eager listeners in an assisted living home. though we had to work out the kinks of sound projecting, i.e., my voice at a near yell, there was a place about halfway through where everything gelled- they were into it, or at least not sleeping yet, and i was comfortable, and we rode that story all the way to a triumphant ending. that seven minutes was the highlight of this class, and one of the high points of this entire degree. i wish there had been more, more, more of that kind of telling.
this semester, and over the course of this degree, i have become fluent in many ways to tell a story. i have poured out my writing heart into massive research papers and excessively detailed projects. i have recorded my voice. i have created book trailer movies and a poem movie and a digital advocacy story movie, all of which have turned out to be projects that i'm quite proud of. i feel competent and prepared to communicate via many forms of media, including online discussions, email, blogs, chat, text, telephone, and photography.
the degree, overall, has led to an intimate new relationship with the old phrase: "blood, sweat, and tears." some of the projects and papers were as enjoyable as rubbing sandpaper on unshaven, prickly legs. others felt like no work whatsoever- they were bubbly and beautiful and waiting to be sucked down like a hot glazed donut: pure joy.
mostly, the cumulative result is a new appreciation for an obsession that has rightly been turned into a new and honorable career, a track that allows for growth and changes, or for settling and perfecting; either choice, or both, are allowed in this field, and encouraged.
lately, the little itch is back, the one that needs scratching the most, projects and papers be damned.
this is the story i was born to tell. this is one of the venues in which i am privy to tell it, and what a great age in which to be alive.
i don't have to bother with parchment paper and a quill pen, although i have both, and enjoy a rant from time to time with the old ink bottle. i can go to a bookstore and find the perfect new journal, the one in which all the greatest new ideas have already formed and are only waiting to be scribbled. i can create a new, beautiful blog, full of pink and flowers and delicacies, even if i only look at it for now, with admiration.
this skin tingle and kettle bell in my diaphragm are the real story, and they won't be left waiting. (and i surely won't be sleeping.) the greatest story is yet to tell. and so it begins.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Sunday, September 29, 2013
heart, it races
sometimes i wonder if facebook is turning me into a not nice person.
occasionally there are times when i experience an extreme emotion after seeing something on facebook: an interaction, a message, a picture posted. if i'm feeling tipsy or a little ballsy, i might say something to clear the air, to call someone out, to tag a friend in an ecstatic memory that arrives out of nowhere.
today, i find that there are many, many things i'd like to say, and not only do i want to send them in a private message, to be received by one person, or maybe two people, depending on if i feel the need to have a witness. today, i want to post that private, secret business out on the boards for all to see, to air out some nonsense that i feel should be called out.
now, i'm not normally a person who thrives on confrontation, so where is this all coming from? we've all heard that facebook is bad for us, makes us feel bad about ourselves because we have "post envy" from all the amazing pictures our friends and families are posting from their perfect lives. but what about the strong, nagging desire to call people on their bullshit, publicly, not just with one witness, but with all witnesses available, forever and ever in cyberspace? is facebook turning little ol' me into a little ol' cyberbully? this is not something that i have ever had the urge to do, in person, on the phone, and definitely not publicly, via the web. until now.
maybe i'm seeking some sort of public catharsis, an acknowledgement that no, i am not the only one who thinks so-and-so is wrong/sneaky/bad/manipulative. i want the truth to be told, literally shouted from the center of the gladiator ring, for all to hear and to see. i want ugly behavior to be rendered unacceptable and punishable, in front of all the people who know me, and who i love.
this is not a matter of being perfect (by default, none of us is), nor a matter of i'm right/you're wrong (although the odds are mostly in my favor). this is a matter of standing up to the bully of manipulation, the extremely selfish, the shameless pursuer of attention, the sweet-talking thief. it's a matter of people who hoard people/things/attention in order to make themselves feel better.
i'm tired of it. i'm drained from it. i'm ready to get on with my life and get over it. and, as a writer, i have all creative license to do that which i truly wish to do: expose the worst aspects in people and praise the best joys.
because that's what we're meant to do as writers- tell the truth.
occasionally there are times when i experience an extreme emotion after seeing something on facebook: an interaction, a message, a picture posted. if i'm feeling tipsy or a little ballsy, i might say something to clear the air, to call someone out, to tag a friend in an ecstatic memory that arrives out of nowhere.
today, i find that there are many, many things i'd like to say, and not only do i want to send them in a private message, to be received by one person, or maybe two people, depending on if i feel the need to have a witness. today, i want to post that private, secret business out on the boards for all to see, to air out some nonsense that i feel should be called out.
now, i'm not normally a person who thrives on confrontation, so where is this all coming from? we've all heard that facebook is bad for us, makes us feel bad about ourselves because we have "post envy" from all the amazing pictures our friends and families are posting from their perfect lives. but what about the strong, nagging desire to call people on their bullshit, publicly, not just with one witness, but with all witnesses available, forever and ever in cyberspace? is facebook turning little ol' me into a little ol' cyberbully? this is not something that i have ever had the urge to do, in person, on the phone, and definitely not publicly, via the web. until now.
maybe i'm seeking some sort of public catharsis, an acknowledgement that no, i am not the only one who thinks so-and-so is wrong/sneaky/bad/manipulative. i want the truth to be told, literally shouted from the center of the gladiator ring, for all to hear and to see. i want ugly behavior to be rendered unacceptable and punishable, in front of all the people who know me, and who i love.
this is not a matter of being perfect (by default, none of us is), nor a matter of i'm right/you're wrong (although the odds are mostly in my favor). this is a matter of standing up to the bully of manipulation, the extremely selfish, the shameless pursuer of attention, the sweet-talking thief. it's a matter of people who hoard people/things/attention in order to make themselves feel better.
i'm tired of it. i'm drained from it. i'm ready to get on with my life and get over it. and, as a writer, i have all creative license to do that which i truly wish to do: expose the worst aspects in people and praise the best joys.
because that's what we're meant to do as writers- tell the truth.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
still, still, still
the eagles have a song about it, carrie bradshaw asks Big to do it with her in the park, there's a lullaby about it... sometimes we all have to be still.
this week of all weeks is the one that i have the most to do, the least amount of time, and yet, while in the midst of the swarm, i find myself desperate to be still, because my body is trying to get sick.
the to-do list continues, a constant revolving door; as one item is checked off the list, three more appear at the end. this is final school projects week, party planning week, super-busy work week, house-cleaning week, and yet, i'm on the couch. it's where i want to be, and need to be, but the tension grows as i sit still, not doing all that needs to be done on time.
the day is beautiful outside, a perfect weather day, but the onslaught of allergies here in central texas is confining me to an inside view. it's a guilty feeling, not going out on a day like today, but i really don't have a choice. the birds still sing outside the window, a jubilant serenade.
i can see the lovely fuchsia hibiscus blossoming on the other side of the living room window. what a joyous plant, generous with its opulent blossoms, waxing and waning in bloom and then, in rest. i remind myself that's ok to withdraw, to produce glorious blossoms, and then to recuperate quietly, gathering the energy and nutrients to replenish the exertion, and then, to blossom again.
this week of all weeks is the one that i have the most to do, the least amount of time, and yet, while in the midst of the swarm, i find myself desperate to be still, because my body is trying to get sick.
the to-do list continues, a constant revolving door; as one item is checked off the list, three more appear at the end. this is final school projects week, party planning week, super-busy work week, house-cleaning week, and yet, i'm on the couch. it's where i want to be, and need to be, but the tension grows as i sit still, not doing all that needs to be done on time.
the day is beautiful outside, a perfect weather day, but the onslaught of allergies here in central texas is confining me to an inside view. it's a guilty feeling, not going out on a day like today, but i really don't have a choice. the birds still sing outside the window, a jubilant serenade.
i can see the lovely fuchsia hibiscus blossoming on the other side of the living room window. what a joyous plant, generous with its opulent blossoms, waxing and waning in bloom and then, in rest. i remind myself that's ok to withdraw, to produce glorious blossoms, and then to recuperate quietly, gathering the energy and nutrients to replenish the exertion, and then, to blossom again.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
all i know about fashion started with sue charlton in crocodile dundee
[think about the time when she first arrives to the bush, khaki's and head scarf, red lipped and ready]
...When she arrives in Walkabout and meets Wally, she's dressed for an adventure, ready for anything that might arise, and has all that she needs to break a killer news story, including her notebook, her camera, and her extreme curiosity. Sue exhibits no hint of fear at spending a few days in the bush with a strange man. Also note the incredible head scarf, and the loose, breathable, and yet stylish, clothing. She doesn't show up in a t-shirt and jean shorts.
Yes, being in the elements requires protection, from sun, from wind, and from the possibility of snakes dropping on your head at any moment. Sue is prepared with this lovely hat that frames her face and adds to her mystique. Traveling is no excuse for sloppy head accessories. How can you not fall in love with this woman?
Reason #3: Showing the Right Amount of Skin
Now, I know what you're thinking. What about that bathing suit? You know, the bathing suit that was my first exposure to women utilizing every asset (ahem) to their advantage when trying to seduce a man in nature. This is not a cry for attention, since she covers the suit for most of the day with a beautiful blue long wrap skirt.
It is only in the moment when she (thinks she) is alone, and resting from the long day's walk, that the skirt comes off and hello hot mama comes out; recall the black, sexy high rise, one piece thong bathing suit that had Dundee smacking his head on the tree.
The crocodile that tries to eat her and her canteen is a little side note. The wooing in this moment, however, spot on. If the film had been rated slightly more naughty than PG-13, I think there might have been a hot in-the-wild sex scene right after the croc lost the fight and Crocodile Mick stepped in with his knife to save her. This bathing suit is a perfect example of the power of suggestion.
Reason #4: Lipstick
She's smart and sassy, she won't let a man tell her that she's just a "Sheila," she's brave and takes off into the bush by herself (while carrying a gun that she knows how to use), and still, she wears lipstick. Not a little nude, not a clear gloss, but RED lipstick. She's powerful, womanly, sexy, and she's not to be trifled with. You know what you're getting into when you see this woman; she's so much more than the girl next door. Behold, the power of red lipstick.
Reason #5: Choose "Wow" Pieces that Highlight Your Body & Make you
Feel and Look Amazing
Not only does Sue accentuate her femininity with red lipstick, she's also not afraid to wear red clothing, and a lot of it. The red dress that seals the deal at the posh New York party, when she's showing Crocodile Mick around town;
[Recall the curvy red dress that had convenient cutouts all down the right side, and I mean ALL the way down.]
Perfect for the time, perfect for her body, and perfect for the City. This dress is the epitome of beauty, the perfect expression of Sue's exquisite personality and figure. Not just anyone can wear this dress, in fact, I assume it would look horrible on most people. But this is Sue's moment, her classic color, her defining statement. In her mind, I imagine this dialog: "This is also who I am, in my town, at the height of my beauty." Of course, she is still a great beauty, 20-odd years down the road...
Reason #6: Wear Color/Have a Signature Color
Sue wears a lot of red (as well as white, khaki, blue, tan, and black, all classics) and knows that eyes will gravitate toward her when she's in it. Red is extremely bold, fiery and loud, and when used correctly, creates an unforgettable fashion moment.
The ending scene where she learns that Mick has checked out of the hotel and is headed on walkabout... if she doesn't want to lose him forever, she has to ditch her shoes and make a serious run for the subway. Which she does, without question. Of course, in this climax moment, Sue has to be recognizable through a suffocating, pulsating subway crowd... in yet another gorgeous, unforgettable dress and head scarf.
For all of these reasons, and I'm sure for a few others that I've forgotten, I am forever grateful to Sue Charlton's courage and tenacity, both in the wild, and in fashion. That Crocodile Mick sure got lucky!
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
lighten up
it's hard to say, exactly, how one's friendships evolve, and even harder to say how they are sustained.
there may be a percentage floating around out there about how many friends stay in your life during the lifetime, how many others are long-term and then slowly dissolving, and still others who are brief and then gone forever.
I like to hold onto things, to hold onto people, and I think sometimes that gets me in trouble. sometimes there are people who do not lift you up anymore, or they never did to begin with. this year, I believe I'll allow myself to let go of the ones who don't make me as much of a priority as I do for them.
it's a freeing concept for someone like me, who hoards articles, recipes, artifacts, pictures, clothing, and sometimes even friendships, to think about gently releasing the ties and easing the tethered boats into their own currents. maybe it's time I cleaned out the closet.
there may be a percentage floating around out there about how many friends stay in your life during the lifetime, how many others are long-term and then slowly dissolving, and still others who are brief and then gone forever.
I like to hold onto things, to hold onto people, and I think sometimes that gets me in trouble. sometimes there are people who do not lift you up anymore, or they never did to begin with. this year, I believe I'll allow myself to let go of the ones who don't make me as much of a priority as I do for them.
it's a freeing concept for someone like me, who hoards articles, recipes, artifacts, pictures, clothing, and sometimes even friendships, to think about gently releasing the ties and easing the tethered boats into their own currents. maybe it's time I cleaned out the closet.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
womanhood
it sure ain't easy to be a woman some days.
i say this on the day of the month when i feel the full weight of each individual emotion, all parading by from moment to moment, changing about every third minute. some men may understand this, but I would take a gander that most men will never quite know this pain, the pain of a woman whose body is literally crying to have a child (but can't, for one reason or many), the pain of being the breadwinner, the pain of feeling the pain of everyone else in her life all on the same day, the pain of physical incapacitation that can happen each month (some months worse than others), the pain of feeling all of these things at once in an overwhelming minute.
it's hard some days to be a woman, but even on the worst days, I am thankful to be breathing, to have fully functioning limbs and mind, to be able to hypothesize and joke about the way i would choose to die, if the time was imminent, and to have the uninhabited ability to eat the weight of my sorrows in mini cupcakes, two bites at a time.
i say this on the day of the month when i feel the full weight of each individual emotion, all parading by from moment to moment, changing about every third minute. some men may understand this, but I would take a gander that most men will never quite know this pain, the pain of a woman whose body is literally crying to have a child (but can't, for one reason or many), the pain of being the breadwinner, the pain of feeling the pain of everyone else in her life all on the same day, the pain of physical incapacitation that can happen each month (some months worse than others), the pain of feeling all of these things at once in an overwhelming minute.
it's hard some days to be a woman, but even on the worst days, I am thankful to be breathing, to have fully functioning limbs and mind, to be able to hypothesize and joke about the way i would choose to die, if the time was imminent, and to have the uninhabited ability to eat the weight of my sorrows in mini cupcakes, two bites at a time.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
song nostalgia
this will be a post-in-progress, since I'm always driving down the road and hearing another one. these are songs that remind me of other times, specific times, and potent memories. this post is inspired by rob sheffield, who did a lot of this in his book, Love is a Mix Tape.
here we go...
1. "if you could only see" by tonic
this song reminds me of early high school (say 1997) and sitting in the gym at my church, first presbyterian of greer, watching my friends' band called the simply waynes. I used to ask for them to play this song as a request because I loved how they performed it. a fair number of the members of that band went on to become the band Emery, who have enjoyed great success!
2. "come out and play (keep'm separated)" by the offspring
remember the time you had a first, real live crush on a person, I mean hard-core, mushy in your gut and butterflies in the stomach, where you can't imagine how amazing it would be to kiss that person, but there's no way it would ever happen, because they are way, way too hot? that's where this song takes me, back to the ripe old age of 13, dancing The Nutcracker all around the upstate (south carolina). the boy was the son of the ballet company owners, a ridiculously gorgeous (and sometimes scary) married couple. of course, their son played the lead role of the nutcracker prince, he looked PHENOMENAL in white dance tights, and every other girl in the show felt the same way I did, and at least some of them got to make out with him (I didn't).
3. "can't help falling in love" by UB40
now, before you judge, remember that I grew up a child of the 80s and a teen in the 90s, so it's completely fitting to have grand associations with UB40. this is another big adolescent mover-and-shaker song. it reminds me of the first year I went to camp (age 12?) and all that comes with it: packing a trunk for 2 weeks, being away from home for a long time for the first time, being segregated by sex into cabins, being woken up at midnight for Christmas in July, other various boy crushes (including much older ones), a roommate who is the daughter of Johnny Unitas, my first exposure to bulimia (a counselor, not a camper), the morning dip ritual in the freezing lake, singing folk songs, drinking punch, and all of the other fantastic things that happen at summer camp (FROZEN ZERO BARS). also, the day we went home, I napped for about 8 hours and then went straight to bed.
here we go...
1. "if you could only see" by tonic
this song reminds me of early high school (say 1997) and sitting in the gym at my church, first presbyterian of greer, watching my friends' band called the simply waynes. I used to ask for them to play this song as a request because I loved how they performed it. a fair number of the members of that band went on to become the band Emery, who have enjoyed great success!
2. "come out and play (keep'm separated)" by the offspring
remember the time you had a first, real live crush on a person, I mean hard-core, mushy in your gut and butterflies in the stomach, where you can't imagine how amazing it would be to kiss that person, but there's no way it would ever happen, because they are way, way too hot? that's where this song takes me, back to the ripe old age of 13, dancing The Nutcracker all around the upstate (south carolina). the boy was the son of the ballet company owners, a ridiculously gorgeous (and sometimes scary) married couple. of course, their son played the lead role of the nutcracker prince, he looked PHENOMENAL in white dance tights, and every other girl in the show felt the same way I did, and at least some of them got to make out with him (I didn't).
3. "can't help falling in love" by UB40
now, before you judge, remember that I grew up a child of the 80s and a teen in the 90s, so it's completely fitting to have grand associations with UB40. this is another big adolescent mover-and-shaker song. it reminds me of the first year I went to camp (age 12?) and all that comes with it: packing a trunk for 2 weeks, being away from home for a long time for the first time, being segregated by sex into cabins, being woken up at midnight for Christmas in July, other various boy crushes (including much older ones), a roommate who is the daughter of Johnny Unitas, my first exposure to bulimia (a counselor, not a camper), the morning dip ritual in the freezing lake, singing folk songs, drinking punch, and all of the other fantastic things that happen at summer camp (FROZEN ZERO BARS). also, the day we went home, I napped for about 8 hours and then went straight to bed.
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