I was busy wrestling with a couple projects for school. A friend from my MFA program wrote a great post about the process of writing. How writing is what we want to do, but we are tempted to find anything and everything else to do but write. Don't be ashamed, Lindsey. I feel the same weakness, the same self-doubt. "Why am I doing this if I am so easily tempted to avoid it?" I don't have the answer, but I am comforted that I am not alone. I've heard many good writers admit to this.
I still have one author interview to complete before officially "finishing" the second semester of my MFA. But last Thursday, after fighting procrastination/distraction demons for weeks leading up to the deadline, I felt a lightness of spirit when I handed the manila envelope containing my story and annotations across the post office counter to a nice lady named Heather. I had proudly defeated many (but not all) potential distractions over the last few weeks (including the blog god reminding me condescendingly that I still had not posted after several weeks MIA). So on Friday morning, I let myself indulge in a few choice distractions in celebration of being "done."
Here are three random and possibly gross things I did that morning instead of writing my interview questions:
Dumped the contents of my purse and discovered a week-old rotting apple core partially wrapped in a napkin. I ate the apple at work and wanted to compost it, OK?
Watched and cried at a weather channel video about a girl rescuing a starving horse from the side of the road (near my hometown, no less!).
Cleaned out my belly button.
Yes, it's true. These are the kinds of things I find to do instead of write.
And now the blog god can stop looming for a few days while I get my questions written.
You history buffs out there, or eclectics like me, might enjoy a comparison of these three videos.
Each video was taken from a trolley traveling down Market Street, toward the San Fransisco Ferry
riding a SF trolley with friends in 2009
Building. You can see the spire of the ferry building at the end of the road in each of the videos.
I'm interested in the difference not only in the buildings and attire, but the attitude, expressions, and gestures of the people caught on film.
The first video, from 1905, pre-earthquake, is wild with activity. Rumor has it the cameraman hired his friends to drive around like maniacs in front of the trolley to keep the video lively.
The second video, taken just after the 1906 earthquake, is not surprisingly more sober. But I was intrigued to see families--men, women, and children--walking the streets as if it were any old Sunday morning.
The third video is modern San Fransisco, 2005, with characteristically busy pedestrians and drivers. Still, some were aware enough to smile and wave at the camera. I laughed out loud when 4:40 into the video one guy pushing his bike across the street waved his hat. It reminded me of a gesture someone from the 1905 video would have made. Word to the wise: listen to the third video on mute. The music is cringe-worthy. Sorry.
Second, newly uncovered 1906 footage of the city right after the earthquake and subsequent fires. From 2:30 to 6:00 is the trolley ride down Market Street. The rest contains footage of some of the demolition and clean-up efforts. (Footage from devour via kottke.org)
And here's the third video: a trip down Market Street today... well, 5 years ago. Remember to mute this one. And don't miss the guy at 4:40!
I hope you've enjoyed time traveling with me and seeing how people have lived in and with the great city of San Fransisco. What else did you see in the videos that you thought was interesting?
Weekend is coming up! Not that you have to wait for the weekend to do something special--do it now, I say. But if you need the excuse of a weekend to get you going, I'm here for you.
I proposed finding 10 fun activities to do with your favorite introvert, or if you're the introvert, suggestions to show your friends or significant other. Look here for the first 5. Today's post will give you 5 more great ideas.
Just to recap: 1.) listen to music; 2.) read to each other; 3.) go stargazing; 4.) watch Jeopardy; 5.) take a hike.
6.) Flea Markets. I know I said I didn't like shopping, but for some reason flea markets are different to me. It's the opportunity to find some rare or unique item, an old treasure that's passed hands for generations, or something you can fix up or personalize if you're so inclined. Plus you can usually find good deals, make connections with the vendors, and get inspired for new creative projects. Find some flea markets in your state here.
7.) Museums or Galleries. Museums are nice for introverts because they usually provoke thought and they're quiet. Galleries are a great way to support local creatives. You can see what local artists are doing in photography, sculpture, painting, or textiles, and you can get involved by buying something you like and supporting them. You don't have to go into a big city to find museums and galleries, either, although those are good for getting a bigger picture of the arts or sciences. Check yahoo directories or just google "museums and galleries near [your town]" for some close-to-home artisans, or local history museums.
Autumn weather is on its way, at least here in Georgia, finally, so here are three more ideas specifically suited for the chill air and holiday spirit.
8.) Fireside Picnic.It starts getting dark earlier now, so I feel like winding down as soon as I get home from work.You could have a fireside picnic in the middle of the day, I suppose--in fact, that could be the "fun" version of this idea. But if you wanna go and get "romantic," wait until sunset, or, 5:00. Spread a flannel blanket on the floor and lay out trays of fruits, cheeses, and olives; keep a bottle of wine close by; light a fire in the fireplace; relax.
9.) Hayrides. I grew up in central Illinois, where every harvest season there were guaranteed to be about fifty farms offering tractor-pulled or horse-drawn hayrides. Now I live in Georgia and I've been on a couple hay rides in the last few years. It's probably not too hard, no matter where you live, to find a farm within twenty or so miles that offers harvest-time hayrides. Bundle up, take a blanket. The farm will usually offer hot chocolate or cider. The bliss of hayrides is being out in the middle of the country where you can see all the stars, plus the biting cool air and the spreading warmth of a hot drink. Plus you get to cuddle with your significant other while the gentle jostling of the trailer lulls you into a peaceful state of mind. Most hayrides I've been on, everyone remains quiet, just enjoying the clean smell of country air and the sound of crickets or cicadas.
10.) Neighborhood walks. In the season between halloween and New Year's, neighborhoods and stores will be lit up with decorations. Take a cue from Lorelai and Rory and enjoy a stroll in the brisk air with your favorite friend, admiring creative decorations, privately mocking the cheesy ones, and generally enjoying the holiday spirit.
Stars Hollow in Autumn (photo courtesy of WB)
Feel free to chime in with more ideas. Introverted or not! I hope these 10 have at least given you some fresh incentive to try something different.
For the introverted individual; for those with an introverted significant other; for those with introverted friends:
Hear, hear.
Too much of American dating culture revolves around activities dominated by extroverts: dinner & a movie, bowling, miniature golf, dancing, cocktail parties, sports events, concerts, bars, even shopping (according to LiveStrong.com Dating Ideas--no joke!). Most if not all of these require you to be talkative, funny, and on-your-toes socially. Not that the introvert doesn't enjoy these activities from time to time, but let's face it. There are more dating activities well-suited for the gregarious, outgoing extroverts than for the quieter, contemplative introverts.
I happen to be an introvert married to an introvert. We go to the occasional sports event. We've been to a couple concerts. We've been shopping together (although neither of us would call those times "dates," more like the "for better or for worse" times we vowed we'd love each other through). But when it comes to date night, time and time again we've faced these options, looked at one another, and said, let's just watch a movie. Now, introverts, let's get creative. We don't always want to watch Netflix for every date night, do we? As much as I love my movie nights...
I propose 10 fun activities to do with your favorite introvert. Or if you're the introvert, suggestions to show your friends or significant other. Here's the first 5.
1.) Listen to music. Share an artist, album, or song you've recently discovered, and let your friend or special someone share one with you. Spend time listening to the songs all the way through, then talk about what was unique or innovative. Talk about what you each enjoyed about the music. Don't be afraid to say what you didn't like, as long as you do so respectfully. Differences are what make relationships interesting (in a good way, usually...hopefully).
2.) Read to each other. There are a few ways to do this. My husband doesn't particularly like to be read to. But if neither of you mind, take turns reading chapters of a good book together. Or, like we do, you can find a second copy at the library, read them simultaneously, and discuss what's going on. If it's fiction, what characters do you like or not like? What kind of tension is going on? What do you think might be cooking up behind the scenes? If it's non-fiction, what are you learning? What kinds of information or anecdotes do you relate to? If it's poetry--way to go! Talk about the imagery that struck you as original. Talk about the feelings you felt as you read the poem. Did you hear sadness coming through? Anger? Loneliness? Did you hear joy? Pride? Humor? Since this is particularly my cup of tea, pick a novel to start with from the New York Times 1001-books-to-read-before-you-die list. (http://www.listology.com/list/1001-books-you-must-read-you-die) I suggest fiction because I think good fiction takes us somewhere in our understanding of the world that all the self-help books in the world can't get us to. Of course, I also strongly believe poetry and well-wrought essays can do the same thing. Enough from my soapbox.
3.) Go stargazing. On a clear night, take a blanket or two, find a patch of ground clear of the trees and the lights of civilization, and look at the stars. The American Meteor Society (http://www.amsmeteors.org/showers.html) has a whole page about upcoming showers, so you can plan a date around wishing on some shooting stars if you want. Even without nature's fireworks, it's quiet, contemplative, and very romantic. This is also fun for a group of friends to do together. Take some hot chocolate in thermoses, some quiet tunes, and enjoy.
4.) Watch Jeopardy. This great suggestion came courtesy of a friend who enjoys this date activity with her husband when their two little ones are finally put to bed. It's not just watching TV. Oh, no. It's interactive. You can even make a little competition out of it as long as you don't get too heated and end up sleeping in different rooms. I don't think this has ever happened to my friend. Just sayin.
5.) Take a hike. Together. Find a state park nearby and spend a day or afternoon enjoying some nature. Go at your own pace--it's not the destination, it's about the journey. If you're allowed to take food in the park (always check regulations), pack a couple pbj's and apples, take a thermos of wine, and have yourself a merry little picnic under the trees, or on the beach, or in a swamp. Whatever your local habitat affords you. Just make sure you pack your trash out and leave no trace of your visit. My husband and I recently took a whole day to hike at some beautiful state parks nearby. You can read about that here.
Check back later in the week for 5 more fun things to do with introverts. I hope this is getting some idea wheels turning! If you have any other introvert-oriented date ideas, add them in the comments section! There's way more than 10 good ideas. To be continued...
The other day I wrote about the innovative power of web video, especially the potential for writers and other creative voices.
"There's something electric about hearing the author's voice in the words they wrote. There's something intimate about publicly sharing words that were written in private."
You can't listen to a well-wrought story without being engaged.
I proposed that more emerging writers should record themselves reading their work and share the videos on the web, reconnecting the written word to the stream of our oral story-telling past.
My good friend Georgia has already done just that. This is just one way to share words, but I love the way the rhythm and pacing and tone of Georgia Pearle's poem, "Lil' Allen," falls in step with original music by Marcella O'Connor. Visit Project Words and Music for more videos like this. But first, sit back, listen, and enjoy.
Web video is nothing new. People have known how to post their home videos to YouTube, Vimeo, VideoEgg, etc. for years now. But what if we look at how web video can fuel innovation? I love TEDTalks videos. You could say I'm a junkie. The curator of the TED Conference himself, Chris Anderson, shares what he believes is the force for positive change behind video sharing. (FYI: It's nineteen minutes long, but worth every second.)
Some highlights:
Cisco estimates that in four years, 90% of the world's web data will be video.
Video is more powerful than text or pictures because of our innate connection with face-to-face communication.
Potential innovators in developing countries can feed their ideas from the web and share their ideas through the web.
"The dark side of the web is allergic to the light."
As a writer I asked myself how I can use video. Traditionally speaking, a writer's medium is print. There's beauty to that--the one-on-one exchange when the reader sits down with your book. But there's also the public side of a writer's life, when they travel and read selections from their work to an audience.
I've been to several readings, and I've even read once. There's something electric about hearing the author's voice in the words they wrote. There's something intimate about publicly sharing words that were written in private. Now, there are such things as poorly done readings, but in general, I can't leave a reading not engaged with the author's story, even if I wouldn't have engaged had I read it.
What if more emerging writers recorded themselves reading their work? And shared it with the world? There's less risk of someone on the web copying and pasting the work as their own (unless they went through the effort of transcribing every word). And there's more chance that the stories and poems would reach the souls they were meant to touch. Plus you've added that spark of face-to-face communication, the relic of our oral story-telling past.
You might see me try it--though I need practice with video making and editing before I'd post anything. Why don't you try taping yourself sharing something you are passionate about, something you want to put out in the light? Just make sure it's coming from a true place inside yourself, and you'll do it excellently, and the world just might be changed.
A friend of mine recently mentioned that she was "nearing 30..." and the first thought through my mind was that she can't be nearing 30, cause we're the same age. But regardless of whether I acknowledge it or not, life is moving forward and I'm caught in the stream. One way I plan to avoid getting caught in the shallows is to try new experiences. Be adventuresome. So we decided to try geocaching!
On Friday, my husband and I took off work and drove about two hours north to the Piedmont/ Blue Ridge region of the Appalachian mountains.
Our first stop was Amicalola Falls State Park in Dawsonville, GA. We had two objectives here: (1) hike down and then back up the (alleged) 600 steps along the waterfall ravine, and (2) find the geocache hidden near the lodge.
[About geocaching: Some friends of ours (I'll call them S & S) are big-time into geocaching, driving around all day with a handheld GPS, hunting down hidden caches by their coordinates, logging in, moving on to the next one. They were the ones who finally convinced us to try geocaching by lending us their little Garmin GPS. Here's what it's all about.]
The Georgia State Parks has a Geo-Challenge, which states if you find all 42 caches hidden in that many parks and historic sites, and stamp your PassPort with that park's unique stamp, you get geo-coins! A bronze coin for 15 caches, silver for 30, and gold for 40. Since we enjoy (and need an excuse) to hike in parks anyway, these are the caches we'll do, rather than those hidden in people's yards or in parking lots. We'll save those for days we're really bored.
So first we hiked the falls. We are also part of the Georgia Canyon Climbers Club, which means if we hike all four state parks that take part in this club, we get bragging rights. Oh yeah, and a t-shirt. (We're really not suckers for kitschy prizes, I promise!)
We parked at the top of the falls, climbed down about 425 steps to see this:
Amicalola Falls
From the bridge straddling the falls, we enjoyed the cool breeze and a chance to stretch our legs. (Going down stairs is a lot harder than you would think! Especially if you're nearing 30.) Andrew took lots of pictures with his classic "continuous shot" technique, so the above picture is one of 20 that look almost identical. While we were there, our GPS caught enough satellites to coordinate our position. Apparently a basic handheld GPS doesn't work very well under tree cover, but once we'd been on the bridge for a while it finally locked on. So, satisfied that we had a few good pictures and that the GPS worked, we trudged on. Down 175 more steps and a long downhill path to a reflection pond.
Friendly nature-people pic
Along the way we met another couple hiking uphill. We stopped to chat and take each others' pictures. Afterwards, Andrew said, "Why is it that nature people are so much nicer than regular people?" Food for thought, folks.
At the pond, Andrew apologetically fielded a work call (we needed another rest anyway), then we headed back to the top. I claimed we couldn't really call ourselves "canyon climbers" unless we actually went up in elevation. Right? I found that I much prefer going up than going down. I'd rather get a cardiovascular workout than have creaky knees and rubbery calves and quads. But that's just me.
From there we drove over to the park lodge. The description said the cache was hidden about 60 feet off a short, easy trail loop nearby. Using the GPS coordinates we found the closest point along the trail. "Sixty feet? I thought we weren't supposed to go off the trail!" I said. All along our hikes so far were signs saying basically,
"Leave trail at your own risk." "Stay on the trails for your own safety." "It is against the law to leave the trail."
Well, it didn't really say that last bit, but the young-Hermione-Granger part of me believed it was reckless and unfair to invite geocachers to wander around the underbrush of the forest trying to find an ammo box with a bunch of trinkets inside. Also, you've gotta understand, I'm a nature-loving city girl who incidentally HATES catching a spider web in the face and is paranoid of getting a tick.
our first cache!
But I followed Andrew off the trail anyway and we wandered around for a minute. There was a subtle footpath from the other cachers that helped point us in the general direction. We kept saying things like "It's gotta be around here somewhere," and "I think that's poison ivy." I was afraid we weren't going to find the cache before the spiders and ticks and poison ivy found us, but then I turn around and Andrew's looking smug and pointing at the ground. At his feet lay a pile of rocks and small logs--conspicuous enough to be the obvious hiding place, but natural enough to make it tough to spot, especially for caching virgins like us. We opened the box, I signed the log book, we stamped our cards, snapped a picture, and left a plastic jewel thingy I had found along the trail.
After a hiatus in civilization for some wine-tasting at Wolf Mountain Winery (they didn't card me--another indication I'm clearly nearing 30) and yummy pizza at Gustavo's in Dahlonega, we drove to Vogel State Park to fit one more cache in our day.
grapes!
giant veggie slice
We arrived at Vogel and walked straight to the trailhead of the 1/8 mile loop the cache was on. On the way, I turned on the GPS to let it catch some satellites. We wanted to enjoy the hike, but it was also 7:00, and nearing sundown, so we were kind of in a hurry. By the time we got to the trail, the GPS had 2 sats--not enough to triangulate our position. Then once we got under tree cover, reception was worse. It lost what signals it had, and wouldn't pick up anything else. Remember how it didn't get enough satellites in Amicalola until we'd been standing on the bridge for a while? Apparently the best way to let it get set is to stand still until the GPS picks up 3 or 4 satellites. Nice to know now. (Thanks, S & S!)
From the trail, I veered onto what looked like the same kind of footpath that led to the last geocache. We looked around there, but not knowing whether we were anywhere even close to the location, we kept going.
Near the highest point of the trail was a sort of camp circle with benches and logs, and we thought for sure the cache had to be there! The GPS even picked up enough satellites to tell us we were 50-some feet from the coordinates of the cache. We spent probably 20-30 minutes absorbed in the following activities: looking around the kumbaya circle, then continuing on the trail, then determining that doing so led us farther from the cache, and then retracing our steps to the kumbaya circle to look some more. Meanwhile, it's getting darker.
Finally, after resetting the GPS, we got a more accurate read that we were more like 100-some feet away. And we found that retracing the path the way we came in took us closer to the cache. But once again, as we descended the trail under more tree cover, we lost the signal.
centaurs might emerge from a dark forest
In the growing darkness (doesn't that sound scary?) we tried to search out what we might have missed on our hurried trip in. I followed the same footpath I had tried before, looking harder this time, fearless of spiders or ticks. (We were that desperate to find the cache before it got too dark.) Andrew ventured further than before, across a little gully, and found a familiar pile of rocks and small logs at the roots of a tree. We were so excited to have found it finally, in the near darkness under all those trees. But then when we opened it, the stamp for our cards was missing. Someone apparently thought it was one of the trinkets to trade and took the stamp! Consoling ourselves with "It would have been worse to leave without even finding the cache," we packed everything back in the box and made our way to the exit of the trail.
When we finally left, it was nearly 8:00, mostly dark, and we were tired and thirsty. On our way out of the park Andrew said, "I bet that's the most harrowing, frustrating state park geocache we'll ever do." I hope he hasn't jinxed us.
I have been eating mostly vegetarian ever since the end of June, when, at my creative writing residency, I decided to see how long I could go just choosing and eating foods sans meat. My older brother is a vegetarian and I have more than a few good friends who are dedicated vegetarians, so I know a little bit about the importance of getting complete nutrition from a meatless diet. I have had one fish dish while we were in Boston, and I think I probably had some other kind of meat when we were visiting someone. But probably 99% of my meals since the end of June have been meatless. My hubby and I didn't eat meat all that often before, because quite honestly, I am a little squeamish when it comes to fixing the stuff myself. But before this, if someone else fixed the meat I'd eat it.
Now, however, I am decidedly choosing veggies over meat for philosophical reasons. I have always loved animals and believe a lot of them are smarter and more soulful than we give them credit for. I could never bring myself to eat veal, or duck, and while I love me a gyro, I had to push out of my mind the image of the lamb that had to be butchered to make my Mediterranean delight. And did you know pigs may be about as smart as dolphins? So aside from the doe-eyed bleeding heart type objections to eating animals, there is an even stronger reason. Most animals we eat are industrially raised and slaughtered to satisfy the American myth that if there's no meat on the plate, it's just the appetizer. The conditions they are farmed in are usually unsanitary and unhealthy both for the animals and for the people living in the surrounding areas. I don't think I need to explain this; there are movies and books readily available that go into more detail. Food, Inc., The Omnivore's Dilemma, etc.
Just down the road from me, however, is Country Gardens Farm and Nursery. They sell eggs from cage-free hens, pastured poultry, grass-fed beef, and even raw milk. If I'm gonna eat a hamburger, I would buy the meat here. Same with chicken. I want to know where my meat comes from and that it's harvested in sustainable, healthy ways. That said, the "good" kinds of meat are more expensive, which makes them more of a luxury item in my book. So I still will eat probably 99% vegetarian.
So, what do I eat when I eat at home?
One of my new favorite dishes to make is tofu stir fry. Our grocery store sells bags of fresh stir fry vegetables, so it's super easy to throw them in a skillet after I've browned the tofu. Then I toss them all together with some Teriyaki sauce.
Also: Bean Burritos! Despite what my brother says about beans being the musical fruit, black beans are really good for you. They have lots of iron and protein and, of course, fiber, so they're a good red meat substitute plus. I like to make my burritos on a whole wheat tortilla and spread vegetarian refried beans in the middle, then top with black beans, cheese, cilantro, avocado, pico de gallo, whatever! Always tasty.
Then, for a snack, I love (and have always loved) hummus. One of my recent favorites is wedges of whole wheat pita bread dipped in hummus. I have all the ingredients to make my own hummus but I'm just too lazy so far, so I use a hummus I buy in my grocery deli. It's so creamy and fresh.
Recently, my hubby's parents were in town and wanted to go out to eat for Sunday lunch. They chose Chilis. I figured it might be hard to find a veggie option at a place like Chilis, so I began looking at the salads, soups, and appetizers. Even then, most of those had some kind of meat in them. Then I looked at the burger page of the menu and lo and behold! A black bean burger can be swapped for beef--for free! I ordered a mushroom and swiss burger on a whole wheat bun, plus slices of avocado (+$0.75), and it was delicious. I was half expecting the kind of dry, bland veggie burger I've had at some other places. But this was moist and flavorful. I could even see whole black beans and herbs and spices in the burger. I was almost giddy. It looked kind of like this, without the corn salsa (which would have also been mighty tasty):
So there you have my life as a veg so far. It takes a little effort, but most things that are good for you take a little effort. My hubby's been very supportive, making me veg meals and everything. And as a self-proclaimed "meat and potatoes" guy when we first met, even he's eating 90% vegetarian. I feel better physically, and my Jiminy Cricket doesn't chirp in my ear about the poor farming practices that probably went into getting the slab of muscle tissue onto my plate.
1839, only survivor of a slang fad in Boston and New York c.1838-9 for abbreviations of common phrases with deliberate, jocular misspellings (cf. K.G. for "no go," as if spelled "know go"); in this case, "oll korrect." Further popularized by use as an election slogan by the O.K. Club, New York boosters of Democratic president Martin Van Buren's 1840 re-election bid, in allusion to his nickname Old Kinderhook, from his birth in the N.Y. village of Kinderhook. Van Buren lost, the word stuck, in part because it filled a need for a quick way to write an approval on a document, bill, etc. The noun is first attested 1841; the verb 1888. Spelled out as okeh, 1919, by Woodrow Wilson, on assumption that it represented Choctaw okeh"it is so" (a theory which lacks historical documentation); this was ousted quickly by okay after the appearance of that form in 1929.Okey-doke is student slang first attested 1932. Greek immigrants to America who returned home early 20c. having picked up U.S. speech mannerisms were known in Greece as okay-boys, among other things.
Last January for my first MFA residency, I stayed in a bed & breakfast called Irving House. I had a tiny, wonderful room, a twin bed, a desk, and a shared bathroom. I walked 15 minutes to classes after a hearty organic breakfast, and I enjoyed cookies or cake and hot tea when I got back around 11 every night. The place is a treasure in itself.
Then I watch Julie & Julia the other night with Andrew and learn Julia Child's former home and kitchen studio is just down the road from where I was. I walked down that road every day! Julia's house is a little farther down than I usually went, but I'm sure on one of my explorations I walked right past it. I'm sure if I had known, I would have stopped and sighed. The air was cold, but I could have imagined the smell of melting butter and warmed right up.
I'm staying at the Irving House again this coming January. Guess what? Of course I'm going to walk by Julia's house every day on the way to class. Irving House (A) to Julia's house (B) and Lesley (C), via a shortcut across Harvard Divinity School, of course.
Umbrellas are for more than keeping off rain. A black umbrella just won't do. One with a wooden cane handle is better than a straight black plastic handle. And the more color, the better. An umbrella is highly symbolic, indicative of a person's outlook on life. Are they pragmatic? Whimsical? Pessimistic? Optimistic? Do they laugh at themselves, or do they try to disappear into the crowd?
This is why I am somewhat embarrassed of my collapsible black plastic-handled umbrella. One day, I will live in the city, walk everywhere, and have a colorful umbrella.
She picks up her electric guitar, begins strumming the offbeats. Stops. Waits. Starts again, just before people getting off walk by.
"Don't worry
'Bout a thing
Cause everything
Is gonna be alright"
When the stream subsides, she stops, looks around, puts the guitar in its stand, and reclaims her lonely seat on the bench--not even noticing I'm inside the train. And I'm still listening.
The doors close, and I'm lurched away. But her voice stays in my head.
Sometimes I know a story is right when the whole world seems to spin it into my lap. Today, I got one of those stories. It started as a journal entry a few days ago, just after a heavy rain. I wrote about the glow of freshly washed leaves, the darkness of the tree trunks, the lambent light in the air. Yesterday I decided to turn it into a story somehow. Over night the rains came. Gentle thunderstorms early in the morning, then off and on showers all day long. The world was telling me to write. Slowly, as I reworked my journal entry, a character emerged. A woman whose desire to be reborn is mirrored in the nascent quality of the world after a rain. The journal entry transformed into a plot, as the steady beat of raindrops on my window set the pace. How perfect that a story inspired by a rainy day got to be finished on a rainy day. The first line of the story is true for me, too: "She likes rainy days the best."
How does someone train to be the world record holder for most live scorpions eaten in one minute? Sure it's only 60 seconds. We do a whole lot more unpleasant things that take more than sixty seconds.
Like when the dental hygienist flosses your teeth, for example. So, do you start small and work up? Eat as many fortune cookies as you can in a minute. Then work your way up to grubs. Then beetles. Then spiders, then finally scorpions. What's the technique for avoiding a sting? Bite off the tail first? Or hold em by the tail and throw them down head first, like shrimp? How do all those scorpions and spiders and beetles and grubs and fortune cookies feel about being sacrificed for sport? For you to prove how tough you are? Or are they having a contest of their own? "See who can avoid getting caught by the stupid human."
Nobody said the next post had to be in April of 2009. Obviously I got bored with my blog. Then I got busy. I was accepted to Lesley University's low-residency masters in fine arts program and attended my first residency in Cambridge (MA) in January. I'm thrilled with the program, with the faculty, and with my fellow students. It is just right for me.
So I feel sort of directionless with this blog. Do I go with food? With environmental news, concerns, joys? With writing? Do I even care? Meh...
Signing out for now (cause I'm supposed to be meeting a deadline tonight!)
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