Friday, February 27, 2009
2. Why do I have creek and not ocean.
3. How does this stimulus work, anyway?
4. Every morning, I put marmalade on my English muffin.
5. I consider myself lucky because I have what I need.
6. One day we’ll see peace.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to errand day being over, tomorrow my plans include the gym and Sunday, I want to rest!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
2. How many times a week do you eat out/order in?
Twice. Gym days when I'm awfully tempted to snarf a Big Mac.
3. What did you do the night of your high school graduation?
Went home with my parents.
4. So Octomom is rumored to have been offered a million bucks to do a porno. Would you do it for a million?
5. If your child was born with an extra finger or toe, would you have it surgically removed?
Depends on if the child was half Martian, if so, an extra finger or toe would be a normal occurrence.
6. What was the last movie you saw?
Some straight to video Val Kilmer/Russian/horror thing.
7. I wanna buy you a dozen roses, what color should they be?
8. You are walking across the street, you are not quite half way when a speeding car comes... you have to run to get out of its way, which direction do you run?
Opposite the direction of the car.
9. Tell us about a time when you were invited over somewhere and had the most awful time.
We were invited to a coworkers for Thanksgiving. Dearest said he'd go only if I made the dressing. The hostess agreed -- she had never heard of such a thing as dressing. Unfortunate hint of things to come. Made the dressing, brought to hostess, she said - go mingle, I did, she put dressing in a pot next to the turkey where it turned into little corn bread charcoals. Dearest glared through entire meal. We left when we noticed the family doberman stalking us.
10. You open your front door and there is a box with a puppy in it... what do you do?
Celebrate. I'd love a puppy. Give
From Thursday Thunks.
Monday, February 23, 2009
I recently took a writing class in which the teacher, a mid-list novelist, offered her take on THE MUSE, which was to see it as a separate entity; one that needed to be coaxed, prodded, enticed into performing for the artist in question, namely any aspiring writer.
Call me superstitious, but I avoid searching disassemblies of THE MUSE, citing minds greater than mine, namely Hemingway, writing in A Moveable Feast, of F. Scott Fitzgerald.
His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.
— Ernest Hemingway
That's how I think of THE MUSE. Dust on butterfly's wings, and the butterfly doesn't need to know how it works to fly. I feared critical examination would prove a fatal marring of the dust.
I was uncomfortable with class assignments to personify THE MUSE as an animal. Name it. Give it its own assignments. All the better to cajole it into submission.
I noticed others in class, mainly fantasy fans, loved this imaging, and created muses as unicorns and fairies with gay abandon. I dutifully completed the assignment, choosing an animal, filling my office with pictures of same. I'd sit and stare at them every once in a while and think, hmm.
I didn't believe. Couldn't see THE MUSE as a separate entity. I believe it's the better part of my dusty old self, and I'm happy with that. No problem here.
Although, cue Twilight Zone theme, I have experienced a definite feeling of otherness at times when the writing is going well, and suddenly, something will spool out of the keyboard that surprises me. How is that even possible?
Don't know. Not gonna try and find out either. As I've mentioned before, I don't have to change the oil to get the car to go.
Decided that was the teacher's process and it didn't have to be mine. Moved on with the class.
Last night, I found this article, How We Kill Geniuses by the author of Eat, Pray, Love.
She says how humanity sees the muse has evolved from outside and separate to inside and personal, and that hasn't been especially helpful.
Mystical fairy juice. Dust on butterfly wings. Genius in. Genius out.
She looked at other societies to see how they regard this pressure on artists and found an answer in ancient Greece and Rome. In these places, people didn't believe that creativity came from inside. They believed it was an attentive spirit that came to someone from a distant, unknowable source, she said.
"[It was] a magical divine entity that was believed to live literally in the walls of an artist's studio and would come out and invisibly assist the artist with the work and shape the outcome of the work," she said.
This view served the artist's mental health, she suggested, because by attributing the artist's talent to an outside force, the artist was relieved of some of the pressure to perform, and was not narcissistic. If an artist's work was brilliant, the outside force got the credit.
All that changed with the Renaissance when mysticism was replaced by a belief that creativity came from the self. For the first time, people started referring to an artist as being a genius rather than having a genius.
"Allowing somebody ... to believe that he or she is ... the essence and the source of all divine, creative, unknowable, internal mystery is just like a smidge of too much responsibility to put on one fragile human psyche," she said. "It's like asking somebody to swallow the sun. It just completely warps and distorts egos, and it creates all of these unnatural expectations about performance. I think the pressure of that has been killing off our artists for the last 500 years."
She acknowledged that there were people in the rational-minded audience (which was filled with scientists) who would balk at the idea of creativity as a kind of "mystical fairy juice" that's bestowed on someone. But she said it made as much sense as anything ever posited to explain the "utter, maddening, capriciousness of the creative process."
How's it work? Knowing that it does is enough for me.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
1. What brand & flavor of toothpaste do you use?
Colgate Fresh Mint
2. What is your earliest memory?
Sitting in the back seat of the car on the way downtown to buy cowboy boots.
3. Hot Dogs or Hamburgers?
4. If you could bring any one famous person back to life, who would it be?
5. What is one thing we would always find in your fridge...
Flax seed oil
what one thing would we never find?
6. Did you have to go and look for the answer of #1?
7. What don't watermelons grow on trees?
When they ripened and fell, they could kill somebody.
8. What is something that you own that you should probably just throw in the trash, but you never will?
One of the first digital cameras that didn't work.
9. I push you into a room and lock the door. I leave you there for 6 hours. The walls are chalkboards and in the middle of the room there is a box of colored chalk. What will be written/drawn on the walls when I let you out?
A mathematical equation that defines the purpose of life on earth.
I actually know someone who was accidentally locked naked in a nearly empty room and managed to find an object that sufficed as a make-do screwdriver with which she dismantled the door knob.
10. When was the last time you changed the oil on your car?
11. In your extended family, who has been married the longest?
Not counting the parents, me.
12. Name one thing that is so normal to you now that someone who was your age 50 years ago would think was abnormal.
13. Have you ever wanted someone or something so bad that it hurt?
14. What do you dip your french fries in?
15. What was the last picture that you took?
Monday, February 16, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
On the other hand, as someone who lives in her head (I am always thinking about something else) I can imagine, being unaware of one's surroundings.
Advice to Day Dreamers: If you have your head in the clouds (or up your ass) take a moment, every once in a while, to look around. It will increase the odds of avoiding calamity.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
EVEN WHEN YOU DON'T WANT TO.
Keep your hands to yourself.
ESPECIALLY WHEN TEMPTED TO POUND THE HEAD OF AN OBNOXIOUS BOY WITH YOUR BRAND NEW PETER PAN LUNCH BOX BECAUSE IT WILL CAUSE YOUR THERMOS TO BREAK.
Use your indoor voice.
ACTUALLY, THIS TERM WASN'T INVENTED BACK IN THE DAY. INSTEAD SISTER NICKLAUS WOULD YELL AT US, STOP YELLING!
5s are hard to write.
AND MAKE LITTLE GIRLS WHO CAN'T WRITE THEM, CRY.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Friday, February 06, 2009
1. Please don't tell how many poppets I bought.
2. Can you bring donuts in the morning?
3. The color orange makes me want to close my eyes and frown!
4. I have a craving for Starbucks.
5. If my life had a pause button, I'd pause it never.
6. Eyes are the mirror of the mood.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to CPR class, tomorrow my plans include sleeping late and Sunday, I want to have cinnamon rolls for breakfast!