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Blog started in Jan 2005: 1st entries for Write in Every Genre. Then the REAL ME begins |
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It Hurts When I Stop Talking Sometime in Fall of 1998, when a visit from Dad was infrequent, and primarily at the mercy of his 88 Toyota making the 50 mile journey, I was being treated to lunch. The restaurant was my choice, I think. Sisley Italian Kitchen at the Town Center mall was somewhere my dad had not yet tried, so that was my pick. Either I was being treated to the luxury of lunch and adult conversation without my husband and 5 year old son in tow, or that's just how the moment has lodged in my memory. The more I think about it, they probably were there, but enjoying the Italian food too much to bother interrupting. Daddy and his lady friend at the time, Anne, came up together and made a day of it with me and the family. We were eating together and talking about some of my scripts, stories, coverages, poems and other creative attempts that really were not seeing the light of day. I think I'd just finished a group reading of The Artist's Way and was in a terribly frenetic mood over my writing. I think I'd just given them an entire rundown on a speculative Star Trek script. My Dad asked me point blank, “Why don’t you write it?? Anne agreed. It sure sounded like I wanted to write it. Why wasn't I writing seriously? It's what I'd set out to do when earning my college degree in Broadcasting many years earlier. Heck, I should, I agreed non-verbally. “I will.” But, I didn’t. Blogs can be wild, unpredictable storehouses of moments, tangents, creative dervishes, if you will. I'm getting a firmer handle on my creative cycle. My mental compost heap (which is a catch phrase from Natalie Goldman or Julia Cameron - I can't think which, right now) finally seems to be allowing a fairly regular seepage of by-products. That may be a gross analogy, but I give myself credit to categorize my work in raw terms. It proves that I'm not so much the procrastinating perfectionist that I once was. Still, I always seem to need prompts and motivation. Being a self-starter is the next step. My attempt to keep up in the Write in Every Genre Contest at the beginning of the year seemed like a perfect point to launch the blog. |
| Let C.P. stand for Certainly Persistant, Curious Person, Creatively Persnickety Let C. P., which in medical terminology stands for Cerebral Palsy, instead stand for Constantly Persuasive Let C.P. stand for Curtuious Pathways that the nerve impulses take when the brain sends signals to my muscles -- and they "do their own thing." But it is not as individual as I imagine, because the same pattern is recognizable to others I have seen, and sometimes stopped to talk to. |
| Getting back to a routine, even one that I may have tired of at a prior stretch of my life, may be the kickstart the whole family needed. My last blog entry was titled "Moving," based on the actions we were taking, and reflecting on the fuller extent of how the word "moving" operates in manifesting what is needed. So, by titling this entry, "Moved," I am both acknowledging the completion of that starting action, and the intriguing other extent of finding a situation emotionally "moving." My next building block for my writing is to keep writing rather than just jotting down an idea. To write from 9pm to 11 pm (my best time) if i am able. And to build ideas to completion. |
| Half a week ago, Friday, I walked in under 45 minutes to catch the 7am bus to work. Then, it takes close to an hour and a half to arrive at work on that bus line. The word MOVING is rather stuck in my thoughts. That word can be used to describe several kinds of change of scenery. Today I realize that it also can be an emotional change of scenery. Realize I need a good pair of shoes about every three months to keep myself moving (otherwise I am prone on the ground too often, unable to get up effectively from the ground, or just sensitively and all-around "grounded" from the usual flight patterns. All that to say, this is good. Another permutation on the word, MOVING: one of my loves, MOVIES.It makes me thing of those that I obsessively collect, which includes the story of the first one I had available to own that I could not afford, and had to get financially rescued by my dad when I was first out "on my own." Financially, MOVING also connects in when I think of bank accounts; how I have used them and how it often feels like how they've abused me. A way to keep physically capable of MOVING as I age is a bike, stationary or otherwise adapted so I can ride freely. I find it funny that i can finance a car or even a vacuum, but not something for my health. Now my notes mention FAIR (and the lifetime stories of "What is fair?")and SMARTIES -- which I know relates to a teacher's recent post about packing for her book signing, and tagging me in that post. [Go look it up if your my FB friend and are a good detective.] And one more note from this past week is wondering aloud how was I taught not to be racist, while knowing someone born in the generation of my children can still hate enough to kill. As with several of my blog posts, the thoughts I place here are fragments, yes, and one day I may have to expand on their intended fullness. |
| Family and friendship I seem to only be drawing a whole group of mentors to mind, and cannot quite bring myself to choose one, at the moment to write a letter to. What I have noticed, which I wouldn't have before with out the prompt is a deep gratitude for where the feminine energies have appeared to mentor me! I am a little astounded, because I have been going almost a decade thinking I was really more attuned and empathetic to male energies, eventhough I am female. However, I won't discount any of it, because much of what is coming up for me this week is certainly informed by the power of the heart. And all those that I am thinking of are from just my first couple decades as an adult, when I am sure I was more grounded in listening to my heart, not as much for the most recent decade. So, Dickinson poem,"A Bird, came down the Walk," immediately reminds me of something I wrote in College when I was fortunate to be in a workshop taught by Carol Black, creator of TV show: The Wonder Years. My poem from that, which I am remembering in idea alone here, was both a description of one of my common enjoyments -- watching a sparrow ahead of me on a walkway--turned curiosly morbid in observing a pillbug about to become its snack. I further observe that in my hurried, heavy walk, how I would have crushed the bug while the light arch of a bird's foot spares it that. It was a one-off kind of thing, which I know exists in original somewhere because I was proud of the praise written on it from Ms. Black. But do not think it was compared to Dickinson by her nor in my mind until this week -- and I do know I have read hers before. It astonished me to think there was similarity I had not realized before. Oh, it took me so long this week to think of a mentor, I am ashamed to say. But that is because I was stuck thinking rather than writing it out -- there are many to be grateful for -- many related to writing. More related to "waking me up," so I choose Julia Cameron, who along with Mark Bennett wrote The Artists Way. In the narrative of it, couldn't relate to her addictions, but I could relate to her recovery, especially in her use of terms; my favorite: "frustrated creatives." I love her terminoogy, such as "crazy-makers," and practices like "morning pages," a writer's composting technique if you understand that reference. Natalie Goldman's, Writing Down the Bones, is another that squeezed me for every drop of my imaginative juice, and had me wishing to again reflower and fruit to be squeezed eternally. I was prompted in a course recently to "explore the distinctions you draw, if any, between family and friendship. Is familiar friendship really possible outside the family?" What about when you make friendship family -- in marriage? Or the brotherhood created by being conscripted to fight for your homeland's survival? I believe family is the primary place an individual learns how to draw others to you in friendship. Rule number one: family is your first, best relationship example. Rule number two: first learn rule number one. And I am not saying the lessons of the family are the same for everyone, nor happy/best practices for how to relate. But from there all other ideas come to you of how to operate in the world. I wrote this poem as a study of the marriage pact of two literary lovers: Aragorn & Arwen, J.R.R. Tolkien's "returned" king and the elven maid he grew up with in the sanctuary of her father's realm. Their lifespans are different, (possibly) creating a tragic existence for one when the other is gone. Yet Tolkien himself, from the World Wars had lost more friends than he had family by the time he was beyond scholarly authorship, and creating Middle Earth characters and their histories. My poem, a lament, follows:
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| I did a fair share of reading today, and I also rested more than usual in the morning. My hands and legs just had a difficult time feeling any energy in them until I allowed myself to sleep more. By finishing up a book I had started reading on my Kindle at least two months earlier, I guess I gave myself permission to choose a new one to start. (But I cheated some, in choosing Neil Gaiman's Stardust...I've started reading that one before). It tricked me back by being different from the movie, and seeming somewhat different from that first version I read, which had been in graphic novel form. When I finish some other author's work, it always sparks my own creativity. This book I just finished, it made me question what my soul's intent might have been in deciding to be a human inhabitant "in space and time." Perfectly proper language for me -- I apologize if that sentence is a bit jarring for any reader. The Top Ten Things Dead People Want to Tell YOU is better than it sounds. I am already a fan of the author, Mike Dooley, and his Notes from the Universe (daily inspirational email pep talks ... from the Universe). The phrase I came up with in answer to my questioning my soul-self, well, it seems like a good book title to me. Seeking an Audience -- which, to me, has at least a double meaning. I have always selected an observational post, like always choosing to watch movies; an audience member. Then I also remembered that phrase, "seeking an audience," is used when a person asks to "be seen" by royalty, or just another person of some power and influence. Secretly, I want an audience. I admit that I have not always been clear with myself what I really want to provide my own audience. Do I simply want to be seen? Is it to be in the form of storytelling (either writing or performing)? I am a big fan of film directors that put their own mark on the written and performance work of others -- yet really, I don't see myself as that active an interpreter of story. I like receiving the emotional impact, I'm not sure I know how to pare and influence the dynamics of a story to craft an intended impact. I get satisfaction from the approval of others. That has always defined me. It has not always served me well. I'm ambivert, not extroverted, which means that I CAN stand up in front of people to talk, maybe even sing, given the motivation. Yet I can be slow to approach anyone for conversation. I need some reason that overrides a general shyness -- there's the introverted side. Most of the time I am very curious about other people's conversations and their quest for information, but I do my best to let my introverted side dominate in those situations, or I'd come off as an overly excited know-it-all, desperate to be in the conversation. So, I could stay safe in the arena of recapping or reviewing -- both things I have done successfully for a space of time -- or I allow something brand new to gain the audience (which I do not have to worry about defining) as I write it. I still like the title. If I want to stay a little safe, then it might be a title for a memoir. That's a type of reality recap that I have not tried. |
| Storytelling -- the moments that live on to be retold by another for another. Why and how does it happen that we can resonate for a few moments by talking, showing, drawing one person or a whole group into a retold but now, shared experience. Does it matter if it is fact or fiction? For example: what sticks with you when you describe a vacation to someone else? Much of the time, what I choose to share with someone else is the information I found surprising and helpful and I believe the person I am talking too will relate, or also need that information in order to relate. The least visually descriptive, but important piece of information I have shared with my fellow Californians when I talk about my visit to Oregon (as if it was some new frontier) is the fact there's no sales tax. I mostly share that because I'm a bit embarrassed that I spent about 50% more than I intended for simple travel gifts based on this new-found knowledge. I'm already a no sales tax junkie at Goodwill stores here in California. While I was in Oregon, I actually liked walking places, and was relaxed driving. In California, I am capable of walking places, but I'm quite selective about that, and I do enjoy driving most of all, but I sure could ditch the traffic of L.A. County. I do not think it was coincidence that I felt like the small town I visited reminded me of the valley my friend and I grew up in (but only those very early years before excessive development). I wasn't just thinking of glory days because I was with my best friend and we were looking through the yearbooks we and others had a hand in creating. I was relaxed and free (for a few days) in a way that those years were like. |
| Every turn, description and direction have been well made to me by Kath, first via text, then stated .to me over the phone when I've called after landing because I couldn't get WiFi to go over those notes. My visit starts in Portland International Airport standing on the tarmac -- not as cold and windy as I associate with Chicago in November, but that's assuredly because it is the end of April and only threatening rain. My rental car pick up is textbook good. Nothing on the highway but the eventual connection to I-5 reminds me of Los Angeles County. Impressed by the heads of Iris in a field being identifiable. I stop for a bite and a hot tea on the northern edge of Salem, and now, only about thirteen miles from the town my friend lives in. I over packed -- again. Kath manages to hoist the duffel bag I've brought, out from the rental's trunk into the hands of a twenty-something neighbor. He deposits it at the top of the stairs before we both can finish the assent. Having seen the bag, and the trouble it has already caused, what lack of logic has me agreeing to immediately accepting some of Kath's clothes to take back to my teen? How can a visit to an old friend start with the gifting of hand-me-downs? (It's family/friend history to often be in the midst of thrifting, that's how.) Been interested in the tiny house movement, and now I'm in Oregon, West-coast capitol of the movement. It's not really why I'm here, but I feel it's a relatable thing to carry in the back of my head. I also have admiration already for how lovely citizens seem to be in the state. From highway driving, to cashiers and folks just waving, it adds to the smile theme I've decided to uphold while here. |
| (My keybord is crappy and i'm trying something new while on vacation -- not editing -- except to add a few more thoughts -- before publishing -- just for now.) My first thought this morning was to wish a warm embrace around accomplished American, bruce jenner. In a nurturing mother tone I want to tell them you are so true to yourself now, and there is nothing wrong with presenting who you know yourself to be. I want to take all the confusion away; I want to be more accepting of the science that makes it possible to take the stresses and confusion away. I want it because i want my youngest child to feel right in their own skin. Beyond this, I don't have much more to say about our human experience of gender that was sparked by Bruce's interview. However, in the same way that i critique film, wherein I often have insight after sleep, I have a deep question, and, from that, maybe a deep quest. I can be quite passionate about a beautifully powerful story presented in the theater. star Wars was that movie when i was a kid, and because it did the same for so many others at the time, I felt good to be validated by the masses. During this interview with bruce, A Dueteronomy quote was mentioned that says, to put on women's garments was an abomination to the Lord. And now, for me I am questioning -- do we know what the author truly meant? Do we know so much about God, even when God speaks to us, or the prophets, or any witness from ages ago -- do we know that they know what God is? (I feel less high and mighty about correcting current youth's grammar or rolling my eyes at their reading of a sentence with some meaty words, and having them respond, "well, what does that mean?" I'm only parroting what White and Strunk, any string of words elucidated in the media, or due to what my layered years of English teachers have told me -- why am I an expert?) So, here's the big question: If readers and followers of the bible are going to place importance on declarations like the one in the Bible's Dueteronomy -- the translated Aremaic-to Hebrew-to old english-modern english -- shouldn't we know if abomination means to God what we say it means? Because, suddenly, I am thinking, Why would God feel that way -- or why do we care? Does God still feel that way? God has been known to have quite a bit of change swirling about in God's interactions with humankind (and that's just in what's been written down!) i'd even like to think that "abomination to the Lord" means, Meh. doesn't interest me...wouldn't catch your Lord or savior doing it 'cause "nah, just so not like God." My decades ago reading of James Redfield's Conversations with God comes to mind in having popped out that last paragraph. But back to the further questions that came to me this morning, and the ideas I'd love to have others address with me. The Judeo-Christian God presents no sexuality -- have you noticed that? Bruce Jenner, knowing they were talking to a large television-viewing audience (and certainly a more vast future internet-viewing audience) did a very good job of identifying perceived gender identity as completely different from sexuality. [Well one transgender commenter after the show stated Bruce did not address sexuality -- but I heard Bruce clearly state his own preference in his past 65 years, and I didn't need information about what sex he gets in the future]. I don't know of any statement or even innuendo that ascribes hormones and a male or female sex drive to the very popular "one God." Eastern belief (Hindu) certainly speaks to that power. The Greco-Roman pantheons also parsed the human experiences of lust, jealousy and delight into its multitude of gods and resulting demi-gods. Bruce Jenner let us know that sex created his families, it may have even allowed him to open up more emotionally to state his identity conflict to each of his wives. He left it somewhat questionable as to whether he or his partners enjoyed sex. Maybe that was just shyness. But he was also able to paint a picture of his experience to cross dress. I think an empathy might have been achieved explaining that for people unaccustomed to attaching normal human feelings to the activity of crossdressing -- that it brought him pleasure to allow that to present in the world, especially after they may have recently presented a false feeling persona for a talk. Back to: The Judeo-Christian God presents no sexuality -- Was any sex talk scrubbed out of the bible by Constantine at the Council of Nycene? Was it just a early-on editorial choice, or a cultural requirement to ascribe the male pronoun to God? And other than the later Century that brought King James' giving of male title (Lord) and male position (Father) there is no need for gender being ascribed to God. So it appears to me that my god is asexual and I do not know what gender identity God prefers. |
| What have I accomplished? The question arises as I face a landmark year and plan to attend my High School Reunion. Today, I suddenly remembered the first employment I had out of college was with a private investigation firm. It was exciting, both because I got the job out of a job fair, and because it was like becoming a P.I. (one category of profession for several intrepid fictional characters I actually geeked over, such as Magnum, Laura Holt and Miss Nancy Drew.) Detective ranked highly next to archeologist/professor and adventuresome librarian -- both of which would have required four to eight more years of schooling. I felt quite empowered to have access to reverse directories, and to be able to use verbatim note-taking skills developed in college for taking witness depositions in slip and fall cases. So, much as I think I could have had a lovely career in Burbank, I was let go after a month, as a more experienced person was rehired. I landed another job with a non-profit aligned with my beliefs about opportunity in the media for disabled persons. But before I actually started there, I was offered a week's stint as a production manager at Santa Clarita Studios while a Maidenform bra commercial was shot. I think that must have been a second contracted job, because I remember being involved in one short-term production before that. I mostly remember the excess of available food at the craft services tables. A few nights ran eighteen hours, I know because I was the one to open and close the stage. I have worked a temp assignment at UCLA, worked several jobs (like 4 or 5) during my time at Cal State Northridge, (not including two internships for remote learning broadcast out of the Oviatt Library basement, and at Northridge Hospital's education department). I tutored for less than a year at a tutoring center; essentially another in-between job. Commonwealth Land Title, Mercury Insurance, and The Los Angeles Times have been my "long term" stints. I sure seem to attach importance to the corporate name-dropping I can do by working for big companies. Somedays, however, I think I just want to write love songs. [entry title is from "Take It Back" Ed Sheeran's 2014 album, X (Multiply)] |
| I just wanted to document without bragging on Facebook that the house got some attention today. It's barely the start of the second third of Winter, but we essentially did Spring cleaning. Every layer of bedding was washed and dried, and beds remade, and dogs put in their place -- which is not the master's bed -- except when we are unconscious already, and we ourselves occupy the bed at night, which of course is the signal for all dogs to cuddle in. The other big accomplishment was driving the older car to the coin-operated car wash to hose it and scrub it down, only to return it to our assigned parking space for later re-inspection by the tow company that our property management recently hired. Had to go dig up the rental agreement when we found it had a warning posted on it; stating it was dirty, appeared abandoned, and unregistered, and thus subject to tow. Well, they don't know our struggle, obviously. It has been a good car, and its age makes it difficult to pass the required CA Smog Check. It's fees are paid, but no sticker as yet. It has been missing a window for many years, and in the year we've been at this location, someone has twice taken advantage and broken into it for items that were not valuable (Monetary valuation aside, I'd still like my jacket, my fifty cents, and my walking stick back, of course.) We plan on leaving several fact-filled notes (read: piece of my mind) that state: This car has now been washed. Hello? Drought!?! This car runs, and is registered with the DMV. Despite this excellent parking location, thieves have stolen a cripple's good walking stick and a personalized windbreaker from the car. We appreciate you respecting our use of our one assigned parking space, and our placing our other car with security features on the street. Go make your commission off someone double-parking or blocking the fire lanes -- Thank you! Best line from Tin Man (2007) "You know you really should do something about that BITTER cynicism of yours Cain." |
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