Thursday, April 6, 2017

Prolegomena

OK, so obviously I'm blogging again. It's been years since I deleted all the hundreds of thousands of words of my old blog. And, Deb, Barbara, and several of my tweeps have long been nagging at me to blog again, but I just wasn't ready. But, the writery corner of my brain has been being an insistent little bitch lately so I guess I'll see if I can get into the habit of posting here at least not infrequently. This new blog is probably going to mostly be (yes, I split infinitives - get over it) art projects, crafting projects, cool things I've found and like and want to share, rants, non-ranty essays, photography (of course), activism, general geekery and fandom, bibliophilia, dark nights of the soul, late 70s/early 80s punk/New Wave/synthpop music, language study, and whatever other furballs my brain coughs up. 

Consider this whole blog to be covered in yarn, paint, glass beads, iridescent glitter, denim scraps, liberty print fabrics, rocks, embroidery floss, tin snipped aluminum flashing, gesso, fossilized sharks' teeth, sari silk, and old coins - all set to a soundtrack heavily weighted toward OMD, The Waitresses, Blondie, Tom Waits, Laura Mvula, gritty old blues recordings, Depeche Mode, The Specials, Seinabo Sey, and obscure historical recordings of world folk music. 

Also, I tend think in flow charts, outlines, and lists, so brace y'all's selves for a lot of posts structured like this:


7 Things

1. This is beautiful magic. I am covered in goosebumps. I breathed this tale fully into myself. I love, love, LOVE when stuff like this happens. 

2. Blogs, vlogs, and internet oddities whose content I enjoy and recommend:












3. Simple pleasures: time out and about by myself seeing with my camera, petting purring cats, library books, the month of October, limes, earbuds/headphones, maxiskirts, tote bags (reusable shopping bags, WIP bags, book bags), browsing costume jewelry at charity thrift stores, a Dunkin Donuts medium iced coffee with 6 creams and 20 sugars (don't judge me), nag champa incense, Broadway show tunes, basmati rice, the wind (as long as no one's getting hurt and nothing's getting torn up), Southern ghost stories, eating with chopsticks, meteor showers, maps, going barefoot, meeting a llama.

4. Some of my favorite places to be: wrapped up in the hugging arms of someone I love and trust, in the water at the beach (preferably the Florida Panhandle Gulf Coast), improv class at Second City Chicago, quietly spending hours wandering through a museum thoroughly examining every exhibit, a library, an indie used book shop, The Art Institute of Chicago, Torah study and Saturday morning Shabbat service at Temple Israel in Memphis, TN (on the Saturdays that Micah's presiding), in a helicopter in flight, Charleston Harbor, any of Opera Memphis's annual 30 Days of Opera events.

5. About a year and a half ago, I wrote this paragraph within a larger piece of writing for a specific purpose for a specific person. The context is private, but here's the paragraph. 

Imagine for a moment that you believe yourself to be malfunctioning and unwanted to a level that has made you alien to everyone else. Add on being a non-neurotypical: never quite able to successfully navigate the societal game with all its invisible rules, constantly afraid of fumbling into mistakes when transmitting and receiving, eye contact triggering your fight or flight mechanism, and never being a normal member of the herd. Imagine supposedly being a genius but reality proving over and over that you are stupid. Imagine having a relentless internal critic who continually reads from a small selection of hateful scripts, the venom of which paralyze you. Then imagine having people in your life who treat you in a way that only confirms what your inner critic is saying. Imagine decades of being told to change and to apologize for yourself, to hide that you’re being hurt, being required to accept the blame for the behavior of others, being commanded to lower your voice and your expectations, that you’re not allowed to want what you know you truly need and that you are selfish and foolish whenever you step outside of the expectations of others. Imagine sabotaging your own ability to try for better for yourself because you believe you are less than human, utterly worthless. Imagine believing you are a failure beyond hope of redemption and 100% totally and completely alone. Now, keep that secret. Fake your way through each day, every interaction, in a futile attempt to have outsiders believe you are intelligent, competent, and basically ok. And, be eaten alive by the isolation. This is me.

6. I am newly sucked into the Dreamwalker series by Maggie Toussaint. I checked out the first book in the series, Gone and Done It ,from the library and immediately knew that I'd be scrambling after cheap, used copies of it and the next 2 books in the series. They're murder mysteries set nowadays in coastal Georgia, and the protagonist (Baxley), her father, and her daughter have paranormal abilities. Toussaint has a down-to-earth, charming writing style that makes for pleasant reading. 

7. My 2 all-time favorite pieces of scripted television dialogue:

"I figure you're here 'cause you need some wacko who's willing to stick his finger in the fan. So, who're we helpin'?" - Mickey Kostmeyer (portrayed by Keith Szarabajka) in the China Rain episode of The Equalizer (CBS, 1985)

and

"Life's dangerous. Come with me." - Tony Hill (portrayed by Robson Green) in the Synchronicity episode of Wire in the Blood (ITV, 2005)

Alrighty then. That's enough of a first post. More later.

Love and hugs.



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