I Write. Therefore, I Am.

"I shall live badly if I do not write,

and I shall write badly if I do not live."

-Francoise Sagan,

playwright and novelist

1935-2004

(This blog post of several months ago now inadvertently "republished.")

I remember as a young teenager keeping diaries, journals, not a daily thing, but when the SPIRIT MOVED me to write. I would write about feelings, events, family, accomplishments, relationships; a potpourri of seasons of myself punctuated with poetry, letters, and lyrics.

I remember buying hardbound journals at office supply stores for my writings, illustrating them from time to time with sketches, photos, mementos, ticket stubs, even pressed dried flowers.

From my early years, somehow I knew that "words" -- writing, in one form or another -- would become a meaningful and lasting part of my future, both in my personal life as well as my professional life. I seemed to have an insatiable desire to write, to document, to capture, preserve...

A means with which to memorialize the events of my life with a permanency.

As a mom to three sons, I suspect that I have become more introverted over the years. Gone is the urgency to converse, express, share or release outwardly. Let’s face it.  Guys don't say a lot.  They are often monosyllabic in their communication attempts.  Brevity is the objective.  The less you say, the better.   The necessity to talk just to fill the void of silence?  Nah.  To speak just to "take the stage?"  Nah.  No need.  In our house, if you don't have something really important to say, then you just don't say much at all.   Details are the clashing cymbals of conversation.

I will often compare my reticence to other women. Regardless of their age, they all seem to prattle on far more than I care to. Fascinating.  At times it seems their loquaciousness goes on and on and on... And on.

I frequently will find myself scrambling to process in cliff-note fashion their circuitous conversations.

It can be challenging.  It's all I can do to suppress the urge to say:  "Hold up! Hold up...."

Just give me the gist.

Is there a point to any of this?

Am I supposed to be impressed by that?

Do you have something to say? Really?

Or do you just, um, enjoy hearing yourself talk?

Maybe that is why writing has evolved into an even stronger release for me.

I don't need anyone to "hear" me.  Or to listen particularly.  Or to pass judgment, compliment, criticize, or compare.  I just want to get my thoughts out of my brain, my head, my heart, and onto paper. Unleashed into a repository.  I just need to write it down.  Freedom to purge.

Cleansed. Emptied. Defragged.  It lends a sharper focus to my inner perspectives.

Fast-forward to the 21st century.  My journaling now is done via the World Wide Web.
I'm a blogger.
(I've never liked that word.)

Writer

Scribe
Reporter
Wordsmith

Okay.  All of these work too.

writer - n.

1. A person who composes with language.

2. A person engaged in writing books, articles, stories; a clerk, scribe or the like

3. A person who commits his or her thoughts, ideas, etc., to writing.

All that matters is that I write. I write; therefore I am ...

 

Potty Room Facelift: JAZZED!

I'M JAZZED!  I recently repainted my downstairs half-bath.  It's now a deep rich brick red, "Fireweed."  I finished the project with polishing touches of word art stenciled around the door facing, down the wall, and around again...the words taking on a life of their own as they seem to dance with THE MUSIC.  Framed music quotes hung here and there.  And the only things left to do -- free hand a music score behind one of the prints, an abstract display, trailing out either end of a sax print...then stencil a repeated chorus of "I've Got the Music in Me" in smaller print around the baseboards of the room.   

It all began with my inspiration piece, purchased well over a year ago, hanging out in room after room, looking for a resting place, a home.  Over and over it kept speaking to me---better stated:  IT WOULD SING TO ME.  And it never quit singing as time passed.  The music just kept getting louder, begging for my attention.

YOU KNOW YOU LOVE ME.  SO DO SOMETHING WITH ME ALREADY!

AND WHILE I WAIT...I'LL JUST KEEP THE MUSIC PLAYING....







And then I stumbled across another steal  on clearance at a local discount chain, the PERFECT complement to my inspiration piece...

 

CURRENT FORECAST: Fair, Fine-n-Dandy Friday!

I'm headed here in minutes to grab a brew and some of the best pizza in town.  It will be my "cheat meal" of the week, having kept it to very low carbs all week until now.

 


My nose has been to the grind stone all day, getting transcripts out, coming up only for water and coffee refills and pee breaks.  I've glanced at the clock all day long, counting the minutes till I can head out on this fabulous mild & sunny Friday afternoon and take in this great little pizza place that's gotten rave reviews.... an extensive beer and pizza menu... And they even serve Rioja wine!

Outta here....!

This is To Have Succeeded

Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheesecake

While surfing for something totally unrelated to THIS blog post, I saw a widget that caught my eye which said:

What kind of Cheesecake Factory cheesecake are YOU?

So naturally I click on the widget and take the test -- five questions, relatively simple, not much hesitation to my answers.

So what cheesecake am I?

Chocolate
Peanut Butter

Cheesecake

 

Surprised to learn this.

But then what do "personality tests" know?

I would have chosen something more along the lines

of Heath Bar....or German Chocolate...Coconutty somethin or other...

Yes, I like peanut butter.

And I'm sure it's a good choice.

But it likely would not have been my first choice.

But here goes my results:

You take things seriously... but never too seriously.

You know how to lighten up the mood.
You dislike mundane, routine tasks.

You put off doing chores.
You live in the present moment,

and you like to savor each day you've been given.
You take time to savor every moment.

You believe that life is about the simple things.

THESE ARE PRETTY MUCH ON POINT.

But why chocolate peanut butter...???????

I Need You in My LIfe

I had coffee with my oldest sister this morning at Tim Horton's. It was early fall the last time I saw her; that's tragic. Sisters, and we rarely see each other, yet live only 10 miles or so apart.

We have very different lives. Busy lives. Varied agendas. Different social networks.

Sometimes when too much time has passed that I haven't seen her, heard from her, I start getting worried that she's mad at me. Did I say something? Did I do something to offend her? Did I miss a special event? Surely I've dropped the ball. Guilty conscience. It can destroy me if I let it.

And then we finally connect via cell phone, and hearing her voice I know immediately: No, she's fine. I'm fine. We're fine. Life is just greedy. It robs us of relationships.

So we had coffee -- trying to cram into a two-hour window all that had taken place in the last 4-5 months in each other's lives.  We talked, we listened, we laughed, we cried, we talked about Mom... we remembered.  We shared photos taken over the holidays, captured moments that were meant to be spent together, narrating at record speed cliff-note style, hoping we hadn't missed anything really big, really important, meaningful.  But we're SISTERS.  Isn't it ALL meaningful?  Isn't everything we share REALLY BIG?  No time for details?  EVEN the details.

 
She asked me to forgive her.  For WHAT?  For not showing up in your life more often.  You?  This is a two-way street here.  What about me showing up in YOUR life?   Don't be silly.  I don't want an apology from you.  But I want you to hear my apology, see it, and just know that ... (tears in her eyes).  I do see you.  I see what I've missed.  We need each other you know.  I NEED YOU IN MY LIFE. 

We exchanged belated Christmas gifts, agreeing that it was almost better to have waited, to prolong the celebration of the season of love and giving.  She gave me a great pair of earrings (she knows my taste), some homemade candles (I couldn't stop sniffing them right there at the table -- cranberries & cloves!), books, and a beautiful scarf.  All so thoughtful.  All so ME.

Time passed far too quickly, as we both realized, stealing glances at the clock on the wall, that we each had a zillion things on our schedules to do on our day off (MLK Day). We promised each other -- AGAIN -- that we would try harder. We would make it a point to be together more this year, to call more often, plan shopping trips together, schedule coffee time.

I'll call you later this week.  Yes, please do, and send me pictures of the bathroom -- I wanna see the masterpiece when it's finished.  Oh, I will.  I'm so excited to show you the artwork I found to go with it.  And I'll send you that sheet music you wanted.  Yes, that will be perfect!  And if you have time, can you run by that house that's on the market and give me your gut feeling on it -- if you have time?  I have time.  Yes, I will.  I promise.  I'll go by there sometime later this afternoon.  I'll call you, okay?  Okay.  Thanks for my coffee and bagel.  You're welcome.  I love you.  I love YOU.  Hey, and don't forget...I meant it...I really meant what I said:  I need you in my life.

Les Miserables

There are some movies (and musicals) that just leave deep and lasting impressions on us.  My list is a long one.  But this movie, Les Miserables, starring Liam Neeson and Uma Thurmon -- two of my favorite actors -- is one I should have long ago bought and added to my collection. 

I happened to see a picture of Liam Neeson today while surfing the net -- fodder for another blog entry, he's SO sexy! -- which prompted a flashback to this movie.  It just so happens that he stars in two of my favorite movies, this one, and Love Actually. 

Maybe I'll head out today and buy these two DVD's.  It's cold out, and it's the weekend, and I'm in the mood to snuggle in and get comfy/cozy and watch a good movie.  Or two.

And Uma Thurmon, a woman of unsurpassed style, sex appeal and beauty, not to mention her talent, THOSE EYES, the most hauntingly beautiful eyes, she's cast perfectly for Les Miserables.  I once bought an issue of In Style magazine featuring her on the cover in a white bikini, with silver trim and a white net coverup.  STRIKING.  All of it.  It was one of those covers that just FORCES you to buy the magazine.  Breathtakingly beautiful.  (I still have it; great article and cover story on her.)






(I ADORE this picture of her! Fabulous hair!)


And then there's Liam Neeson -- standing 6'4 (and that's only part of the draw, tall men catch my eye every time), was once described by a theatre critic as a "towering sequoia of sex."   Is there really any need to elaborate more?

Beautiful.  Sexy.  Charismatic.  Theses two have it all.

Yep.  It's showtime...looking forward to some good entertainment on this cold winter's night.