Disclaimer to those who know me: Sometimes I have so many ideas, thoughts, analyses, observations and deductions rolling around inside my head that when I talk to an actual person, I sometimes come off as sounding a bit vapid. Those thoughts overtake my conscious capacity to the point where I am completely consumed and there is no extra room for spoken word. I sometimes feel disoriented when leaving my head to engage in conversation. I am a master multi-tasker, so you can’t accuse me of this shortcoming. I have, however, always been able to say it better in writing than in vocal form. Just thought you might like to know, in case you can’t get much out of me today.
Category: boun-sing ideas
The Effects of Music on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds
I cannot stop playing Mairi Campbell’s version of Auld Lang Syne from the first Sex and the City movie. You can watch the clip here. I’m completely moved and I can’t quite put my finger on why. So, this journal entry is dedicated to sorting it out. Please, indulge me.
The melody is a bit melancholy, as though accompanying a video montage you’re watching years later and reliving those joyful moments, as one might with old reels of childhood footage. Mournful and joyful at the same time. There’s also something about your friends getting out of bed, picking their way through the snow, and going all the way across town just to keep you company for a few hours that’s very touching. There are festivities going on all over town, but not everyone is involved. And the viewer is sort of an outsider, peeking in on all the beauty and glamour, wanting to be there. Or at least desiring the beautiful clothes and parties.
The juxtaposition of a Scottish folk song with an all-American blockbuster fashion movie is endearing and brings some of the over-the-topness down to Earth. Plus the words themselves are heartwarming and haunting at the same time. They’re about celebrating long-standing friendships for old time’s sake, but they’re also about realizing that there are years and years of stories separating you (seas between us). Most of the time Auld Lang Syne is sung with celebratory inflections with a group of people, arm’s around each other, raising their glasses. This time, it’s very melodramatic. There’s happiness, uncertainty, loneliness, comradeship, celebration, restlessness, peace and dejection all rolled up into one scene. It’s hard to process, it’s so affecting.
Happy Blogiversary to Me!
Well, today marks the first year anniversary of my first post in the blogosphere and it feels truly inspiring. Not only am I, myself, another year stronger, but so are my words. Sometimes just getting into the habit of writing can be a struggle. But this personal place allows me to explore ideas in an informal, yet sometimes informative way. And once I get into that routine habit of writing, the ideas swirl around in my mind much more freely which, in turn, enriches my life and my writing and the momentum continues to forge ahead.
This coming year, I plan to get a little bit more technical with this blog stuff. I know, I know. I need pictures. I need Technorati to pick me up. I need to learn a little bit more about html coding and such so that I can deck these walls with extra emphasis. This is a whole new world to me. That’s goal number one.
Goal number two is to blog more frequently. As I said above, the more I write, the more I start to piece things together in my head and the more receptive I am to my environment and world. It’s good for the blog and it’s good for me. And hopefully it’s good for someone else out there.
I blog because I love the freedom of expression it gives me. It’s cathartic in some ways and soul-enriching in others. I also love the outlet this blog offers me to express what I’ve learned to everyday people with similar interests and concerns. I am a complete fitness junkie, devoted momma and writing fanatic among many other things. And my passion is for my words and I to reach out and to make connections with people. So, we move into this second year with abundant anticipation and enthusiasm.
Take a second to peruse some of my favorites from this past year:
1. Add more roughage to your diet with these tips.
2. A personal tidbit about motherhood
3. My Ultimate Thrifty Guide to getting fit
4. My best advice for getting into a fitness habit is writing a note like this to yourself.
The Writing Structure and its Builders
Great writers know that reading is one of the most important things that they can do to improve their craft. And here’s another reason why. It’s not always the content itself that inspires writing, but the form the writing takes. I remember reading a book in high school and the teacher asked us to write about one thing we learned from the book. I wrote about how the book opened me up to a completely different style of writing.
The book in question was written completely in vignettes. It didn’t read like a regular book with a build-up, climax, and falling action. The vignettes were sort of scattered, but still contributed to the overall story. I remember thinking: “this is truly brilliant.” I can do that! That’s how my mind works anyhow, in bits and scattered chunks.
In college, we read poems and then copied their forms or subjects in our own way. Recently, I read a book that I’ve mentioned before called Wear More Cashmere. The style of that book and its celebration of womanhood has spawned some amazing writing ideas inside of me, but that I would like to express in my own way.
I can’t wait to get started!
The Party’s at My House
I think I was reading someone else’s blog entry about having a wine and cheese party that got me thinking about having a girls’ night sometime soon myself. Something to replenish those bonds and give us girls something to talk about. Ok, I was just looking for any excuse to get all the girlies I adore the most together. And banish awkward silences.
Then, something about indie film screening came into my inbox not two seconds later like surrendipity.
A few days later, this fantastic party favor idea (including wine party favor options) graced my inbox.
And there you have it: fate has arranged a fully-planned party for me. How does New Year’s Eve sound?
The Sketchbook Project
I am so excited to have found The Sketchbook Project during a recent bout of Internet “research.” Ok ok, you caught me. I was in the market to buy a real artist’s sketchbook and came across this cool new project to engulf myself in. You see, you get a sketchbook, fill it up with artwork and send it back in. Then, your art goes on a tour of the country. When the art tour is finished, the sketchbooks find a permanent home in the Brooklyn Art Library. They can be checked out like regular library books and the artist can keep track of how many times their book is viewed or “checked out.”
I chose “make mine a double” as my theme. Although today I see that “Happy Thoughts” has been added as a theme, and that would’ve been downright perfect. Oh well. I’ve already done a brainstorm of doubles and hope to turn those ideas into wonderful works of art.
As I’ve stated before, I have this abundance of creative energy building up inside of me and am in dire need of an expressive outlet for it. So thank the stars, it’s in the mail.
5JEST59FP358
Wabi What-y?
Turns out my love of imperfect things dates back to ancient Japanese tradition. Who knew? You see, I had this doll when I was in third grade. I remember how all of our backpacks were lined up on pegs outside the third grade classroom. With the scarcity of homework back in those wee days, my backpack often held other schoolgirl treasures. For awhile, I carried this plastic doll with me everywhere. I was so worried that one of my arch nemeses would weasel their peanut-butter fingers into my bag and out me and my closet doll fetish.
You see, I found this plastic doll in the little attic offshoot of my bedroom. She was a bit bedraggled. Her hair not as luscious as Barbie’s. Her moving eyes were a little creepy and she sort of had that musty antique doll style to her. But those little worn patches on her skin and the permanent dirt on her knees endeared me to her even more. She and I together made a complete package of misfits. A little off-kilter, a little sloppy, a little defective in manner, if only to the naked eye. She belonged with me.
Turns out there’s this ancient philosophy called Wabi Sabi that celebrates the imperfections, the worn-out places, the dirt in the cracks. This Whole Living article turned me on to the whole idea and it completely clicked with me. It makes sense that I was repelled by perfection. Nothing bothered me more in school than copy-cats who strove to be closer to the cool girl’s idea of perfect. The pretentious, the trite, the mainstream–all of these things bothered me to no end. And for good reason. Perfection is delusional and denotes a lack of character. Striving for perfection is a fruitless endeavor, while celebrating flaws encourages us to take pure delight in our own and others’ idiosyncrasies.
Now I have an excuse to not get rid of my little teapot with the crack through the lid. Oh happy day! XOXOXO Baby Doll.
Sentimentality is Never Stationary
I bought me some stationery yesterday with that bonus check I was talking about.
I just love the sentimental glamor of having a stash of expressive stationery on-hand on which to pen personalized “correspondence” like someone out of a Jane Austen novel. I’m a sucker for handwritten notes that actually come in the mail. A tactile demonstration that someone was thinking enough about you to break out the pen, ink, and stamp. Something that can be returned to with reminiscent pleasure.
Now, I’m trying to think of who the first lucky recipient will be. I know of a few folks who would raise their eyebrows at the old pen-and-ink way to communicate. I know of a few more to whom I talk quite frequently online and to whom it makes no sense to drop a letter in the mail.
But at least I have the pretty, graphic, delicate stationery to start with.
Past Tense
I went through a phase in my life where I couldn’t quite understand how the world could be a whole different place when my parents were young. I wanted badly to travel back in time and watch how they interacted with their high school friends and hear their groovy child voices. I’d watch Brady Bunch reruns and wonder if my mom wore her hair like Marsha or Jan or if her feet walked on mustard-colored shag carpeting. I envisioned my dad living in a wood-paneled Main Street apartment, listening to Journey, surrounded by latch-hook wall decor and macrame pot holders, and getting around by hitchhiking.
Nowadays, I’m so far behind on technology, I might as well be frolicking with the Partridge family. As a copywriter, I sometimes have to write product descriptions for technological gadgets that leave me feeling a little uneasy. Have I used some ancient terminology? Do I even know what all those abbreviations stand for? My husband and I just bought the original Mario and Pacman games, do I look like I know anything about Bluetooth technology?
But I’m learning. I find updating my personal hard drive an asset to society. There are so many advantages to being instantly connected and accomplishing tasks much more quickly. Sometimes, when I sneak peeks of other peoples’ flat screens in their open lit windows, I think we should get one as much as my deep-seated nostalgic sentiments want to balk in opposition. I don’t want to grow up to be old and afraid. I want to be energized by advances, not intimidated by them.
I, however, solemnly swear that I will never relinquish my love for Three’s Company, paisley patterns, shirt dresses and gaudy hair flowers.
On another subject, here is a list of some of my favorite things today:
Licking the yogurt off the cover.
The Contemporary Folk station on Pandora.
Bonus checks that allow you to spend on girly pleasures like shoes and face cream where the family budget doesn’t comply.
Reading A Streetcar Named Desire in the sun on my lunch break.
Carrying it All
So, I started ink sketching again. Something I haven’t done since…oh, my college days. I’m not really sure why I ever abandoned it, but some new sources of inspiration have rekindled my desire to put pen to paper. I can even be productive in front of the tube. Wait, did I just say that? I’m not watching TV anymore remember? Anyway… I’ve been going in several other directions lately too, such as a paper bag tag project, the novel-in-progress, word bits and pieces that will one day form a poem, collage art, and so much more.
So, what’s an artist to do? Sometimes on my work lunch breaks I feel like sketching and sometimes I want to write. Reading by the water is another favorite past time. Magazines tell me to keep a gratitude journal, an exercise log, a food tracker and a memory keeper. Writers like to keep journals to stay in the practice of writing and artists carry around sketchbooks whenever the mood strikes. Gurus and life coaches preach the powers of visualization and vision boards. What should an artist/writer/grateful human/dreamer/runner/healthy eater do? Carry around a backpack full of journals that weigh them down instead of lift them off? I think this is why artists always appear fragmented, disheveled and disorganized. It must be!
I can feel the invention wheels rolling in my head again. Something to reel in the restlessness yet fulfill all those roles.