It’s quotes like this that make me adore Mr. Ray Bradbury so much:
“Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don’t they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.” ~from the introduction to Dandelion Wine.
Today I walked my kids into school and it was windy. It was the kind of wind that tries to steal homework or likes to make your own hair whip your face. It was the kind of wind that wraps itself around you and makes you wonder if it could, just this once, pick you up. When I slammed the door to my car and took a breath I could smell the wind on my skin and my hair. And then I thought of those bees. What is in the wind? What flowers? What spices? What is it that flavors the oxygen so much? It always smells the same me. I could smell it on me in Idaho this past month. It reminded me of motorcycle rides in Utah in my college days. Today, in the middle of a bustling city, it splashed its scent on me in just a one minute walk. Anywho, I’m sure Mr. Bradbury is right, and I think the bees probably smell like Wind.
****photo found on google images.
“…the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.”
~Walt Whitman, “O Me! O Life!”, Leaves of Grass
Click here to read about someone I know who contributed a beautiful verse to this world. She was my neighbor, growing up, and I loved her and her whole family. Mostly, I remember jumping on the trampoline with her and her sweet prayers in church. Her name is Cindy Abbott (Dec 1, 1952-February 17, 2011)
**Art Credit: Alpha and Omega: On My Way Home, by Wulf Barsch (1985, oil on paper, 24″ x 50″). This piece of work is a representation of mankind’s eternal journey homeward to God.
Some inspiration for Freewrite February.
“We feel that to reveal embarrassing or private things, we have given someone something, that, like a primitive person fearing that a photographer will steal his soul, we identify our secrets, our past and their blotches, with our identity, that revealing our habits or losses or deeds somehow makes one less of oneself. ”
~Dave Eggers (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius)
Why do I blog? I find myself asking this question about once a fortnight. It pops up in my head like the bubbles in my dirty dishwater – the place where I sort out many of life’s conundrums. Sometimes I can answer it with a solid reason. But, most of the time I still wonder. What draws me to this platform, really? I probably share 5% of my life here, but the stuff I share can be pretty embarrassing. And yet, it’s what is real. I cannot pretend. If I did, I might as well toss it into a fantasy novel and make some money. But here I am, typing away, in one corner of the echoey chamber we call the internet. And then, every once in a while, a friend, old or new, finds my ramblings and tells me: “I loved your post about (insert any post where I’ve revealed an embarrassing detail about myself).” Then we laugh, we relate, we feel bonded and that’s it. We know someone out there feels the same way and we try better as moms, wives, friends, whatever.
So do I blog for validation? Maybe. I blog for fun, for communication, for a family record, for an outlet, for writing exercises …….. I don’t know. The question will still float above my kitchen sink and I’ll blow it off in another two weeks. In the mean time, I will continue to reveal embarrassing and private details and I can thank Mr. Eggers for reminding me that it’s really not that big of a deal.
I’ve asked this question before, but I’ll ask it again, why do you blog?
***image credit: Kristina B. on flickr.com
“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
Jack’s quote from “On the Road” makes me feel better about myself.
I recall a discussion with my mother many years ago. She is a realist. I am not. There are a few times in my life where this made us clash (just a bit). The discussion was based on my disposition of being interested in too many things. I didn’t understand. What was wrong with wanting to learn piano, violin, dance, swimming, basketball, volleyball, softball, photography and still manage going to school? Later in life I tried my hand in drawing, modern dance, long distance running, racquetball, tennis, writing, mountain biking, and who knows what else. I thought this was normal. My mom’s point was that if I didn’t discipline myself in just a few areas I will master nothing. Well, of course she was right. But, my disposition hasn’t changed. These days I continue spreading myself too thin. These days I would love to learn to cook and bake better, sew better, make quilts, learn woodworking, gardening, guitar, be organized, read more, learn more at home renovation (?!), do another triathlon, go back to the piano, be a better mommy, learn about herbs, and write, write, write.
“I like too many things” but I won’t fight it anymore. I’ve stopped chastising myself. I will keep chasing stars and getting confused. I love this world. I want to experience everything in it. Is it bad that I’ll never master anything?
I don’t feel like answering that right now.
For now, I’ll just write about it. This blog is not a niche blog. I’ve not mastered the art of motherhood or wifehood. My writing is amateur. My photography is mostly stolen from my husband. And everything else will get thrown in the mess. “I have nothing to offer . . . but my own confusion.”
What stars have you been chasing lately?
Introduction to Poetry
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
“Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.”
Did you feel the rain today? I did, but only for so long until I got too wet.
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day, you shall begin it well and serenely.”
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Goodnight April 14th, 2010, I will let go of all my blunders, including the time that I lost my temper. I will remember the good things, like the exact moment, from my kitchen table, I noticed that my six year old can reach the kitchen sink to turn it on (when did that happen?) and how my 4 year old wrote a “book” about seeds that grew into flowers because “flowers are the best and rule the world.” I will remember that it was a sunny beautiful day and even though my back patio needs some major attention my children still had fun riding their bikes. Goodbye Today, thank you for your time.
What do your tomorrows hold?