(i know i'm not writing a bunch, but these aren't throw-away posts.)
After reading Cowgirl's comment, I started thinking about the familiar.
Have you ever heard or saw something for the first time, but you still recognized it somehow? That happens to me from time to time. I remember experiences I've never had - long for a time (past, future) that I can't really lay claim to.
For the song "Summertime" (see last post), Jazzy Jeff sampled this gem from Kool & the Gang. It makes me nostalgic for something, but I don't know what. Maybe I have hidden memories? Maybe I've been here before...
You can't tell me this doesn't feel delicious on the eardrums.
(Well, you could, but I wouldn't believe you.)
Take a listen and mellow out. Happy Friday.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
So long, Summer. It was pretty touch-and-go for a minute there anyway, huh? I figure this is a proper send off, and any excuse to play the feel-good classic by DJ Jazzy Jeff and Fresh Prince is fine by me.
Until next time...
Until next time...
Thursday, September 17, 2009
"When you want what you want more than you fear what you want, you will have it." - Alan Cohen
I want to talk about fear. Fear of failure, fear of success, guilt for being afraid – all of that.
This space gives me leave to articulate whatever I please, no matter how profound or mundane. People read it if they want to and click to a different space if they don’t. I don’t really divulge, so I have very little on the line here. It's not particularly therapeutic because I am not willing to be completely raw and vulnerable in this space. Hell, there are very few spaces in even the 3D realm where I’ll take that risk…
Wait, I’m wandering…
Okay, so this space allows me to put my thoughts out there, but as a writer (I have the nerve to claim that again) sharing this way isn’t enough. What’s so special about something everyone can do? Or, as Groucho Marx (as retold by Woody Allen) put it, “I would never want to be part of a club that would have someone like me for a member”. I’ll never be a writer if all I do is blog. (Which is not to say that writers don't blog, but not all bloggers are writers, dig?)
If I really want to test my mettle, I have to submit my thoughts to someone who can turn them/me down. I need a door closed in my face, so that I can a) get creative and find an open window or b) get angry and break that shit down. So many success stories hit a turning point when the protagonist has nothing left to lose. Those of us who have little more than nothing may hold onto our scraps so tightly that we can’t reach for anything else…
Here lies the body of Teresa. She played it safe…
And there are copouts, so many copouts that I could distract myself for the rest of my breathing days with other things that “need to get done”. But I know that I am never more alive and full than when I’m scribbling in a damn near blind fury or performing. I know this. So what do I do with this information? I don’t know yet, but I can bet it starts where fear stops.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
This is how it works. I vow to wear virtually no make-up and not to pick. In exchange, you happen very seldom – only a few pimples at a time – and in a singular area on my face. I let you run your course, using only a mild astringent, and then you leave me be. WTF, Breakouts? This was not part of the deal.
Aggravated & Self-Conscious,
You don’t own me.
I do what I want.
That’s “Miss Break-outs” to You,
Do I really have to get reinforcements?
Because I will. Don’t make me do it.
Empty threats. You can’t just up a change the skin regiment all willy-nilly! That’s not even your style – gimme a break! What’chew gone do now, punk? Bust a move!
Please leave sooner than later. Uncle.
I’ll think about it. (Chump.)
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Last Friday, Reading Rainbow aired its last episode in a 26-year run, and it feels a little like I lost a friend. I grew up with this show; the likes of it and Sesame Street and Mr. Rodger’s Neighborhood (to a lesser degree) swirl together in my nostalgia to create this rose-colored childhood memory.* I think on that time now as a golden age in children’s television programming, where leaving your young ones in front of the TV could actually be a good thing.
Now I can’t recall specific episodes, but like the NPR article states, everybody knows that soulful yet accessible theme song and those familiar three notes that followed the oral book reports. (“But you don’t have to take my word for it!) And if I recall correctly, there was great diversity in the children cast on that show; at the very least I remember thinking that I could be one of those kids.
In an NPR segment, Reading Rainbow is credited with teaching children why to read, rather than how. And as the focus has shifted from comprehension to phonics, “research shows” that children may benefit more from gaining skills like spelling and grammar than content. That makes my Humanities heart bleed. It’s like the difference between teaching children to read to expand their thinking and teaching them to read to follow instructions. Children are maturing much faster and becoming more savvy all the time, and I think the why is more important now than ever.
We need something composed of complete sentences and full thoughts to compete with the flash-bang! of texting, twitter and other malformed incarnations of language. I’m not so parochial as to want to eschew all new rhetoric and language conventions, but we not only speak with this language – we think in it. And I fear the more we shortcut and abbreviate ourselves, the more we shrink our thoughts and ultimately narrow our own minds.
I’m sure this makes me sound like some stodgy English teacher or librarian, but I think this is a great loss. I hadn’t watched Reading Rainbow in many years, but I’m still sad to see it go – and the era along with it.
* I would be remiss not to give Fraggle Rock and Zoobilee Zoo honorable mention.
(image from here.)