Semi-Daily Scribbles

Arrhythmia

So traumatized Chuck still works the mines.
A poet's soul with hardened arteries.
The company doesn't pay Chuck for his turn of phrase and artist's heart.
It's a tough task to write the perfect stanza when crafted in the arc of a headlamp.

From Camels to Humans

Thoughts are ordered in No Particular Order. It's .. they are like reading a book by landing on random pages "and just going with it." Timeline? A logical sequence of events? THEME! All are about as useless as peanut butter without bits of said legume embedded within. Or like ... please explain to me the narrative thru-line of your life, why don't you? No easy feat, that. Our brains flit from factoid to face to that tingling in one's feet to what's her name to ... what was the subject again? We slosh about in our thought soup daily and still we're able to hold down jobs and pack the kidlets off to school and pray to whichever Belief System we are the most comfortable believing in that one of these days we (the entire world's population, I'm thinking) don't just wake up one morning to the news that this novel-bugger-this-or-the-other carries with it a 40.3% case fatality rate.

Stories We Tell Ourselves

Storytellers and makers of beautiful things sometimes deal with the downside of creativity. Maybe this next bit will come off as triggering, but artists don't always have an easy time on this rock. For some, these trips around the Sun are white-knuckle rides. One way or another, we all stick around for as long as we can, so it's best to focus on the joy and memories and stories and beauty that's been left for the rest of us to hold in our hearts.

I'm Sure It's Just Me

You are not alone.

The kid who thinks the external world - from mac-n-cheez to thrill rides at the county fair - is put in place by magical mommies/daddies for her sole pleasure grows up to be the woman who questions the reality of the timecard - from cubicle walls to eyeballs gone blurry by the light of the Dell or HP - as she tackles one more corporate demand. From what arts did childish beliefs transform into a velvet yoke?

fresh, easy, approachable, evocative

Have I bought into any number of myths concerning beauty? Do I truly believe beauty comes in all shapes, shades, and sizes? Is everyone beautiful?

 

Sure.

 

I'm not going to lie. I have a huge crush on Charlotte and I wouldn't mind being tall and slim and very French. Hell, I don't wear makeup at all and I still want to buy this entire line. But then this is up next on my To Be Read List (if I can set aside my quest to become a Cool Girl long enough to pick up the book.) I'm eager to unpack and examine my definitions of health and feeling at peace in my own skin once I've explored stories different from my own. I'm even open to the possibility I'll discover some squicky revelations about myself. This is all in the name of education and the betterment of yours truly, yeah? My gut is telling me something different. Something along the lines of: Who wouldn't want to be a Size ... ?

I Can't Explain

And like o.k.: There's this particular writer whose work I've read and enjoyed and whom I find interesting and irritating all in one big, messy mouthful of come-one-come-all (talkin' bout chyoo JD). Yeah so, brutha man goes on about fat folks in his stories and he himself is pretty thin (cute, though - I'm shallow, ok?) Curious bit that I don't quite get unless the writer's a reformed fatty. And if so ??? Ah, the tricky ickiness of body politics (which needs its own moment of contemplation ... like how I've been body-shamed, but yeah I digress.) Anyway, dude also has a fondness for riffin' on why Asian girls go with white guys. But..but..but ... JD's partner is hapa haole. Just like me! So does he believe deep down she should be living with a Chinese man or, at the very least, a half-breed like herself? What is that all about? Does JD worship or despise or just plain could not give two fucks about his lover's DNA that is white-white-whitey-white? Why not go Big, Black & Beautiful, bruh?

Simply put, we like what we like. No tryin' to deny it. Humans, each and every one of us. Being human is a tough gig to pull off no matter the narrative one espouses from atop the mountain.

Well, as I do, here I go to face the day and try to relate to Every Body best I can 'cause we are all dodging one shit storm or another. Ain't it all supposed to be about love? Tolerance, too? Minding one's own bloody business when it comes to affairs of the heart and parts farther south? Fear of a halfie planet, indeed! Bring it. Here's hoping you stay open-minded today, peoples. Best of luck to ya!

For Love & Money: The play's the thing.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is not a play. It's a rehearsal script. Something hardbound but not a literary work like, say...oh I don't know...The Cherry Orchard. The rehearsal script is a cash grab, but it's also the foundation for (by what I've read on the InterWebz, anyway) a fantastical stage production. Plot holes be damned! Who cares if the world-building and rules of magic (ahem -- Time-Turners -- ahem) in the seven Harry Potter books are tossed in the ash can? Rowling's wizarding world in all its iterations is great fun. Truthfully, though? The Potter story arc could have been wrapped up in four books. House-Elf history and wand lore is just so much filler that distracts and detracts from Harry's journey. HP&TCC in written form is equally unnecessary, but I'm sure the theatrical performance is a special kind of magic all its own.

Precursor

Bran? Bran trippin'.

Mysticism. Magic. Time is a wheel and we've been here/done this before. The thread that tells of the Children of the Forest and the First Men is more interesting than the stories we've been told so far. Brandon's journey speaks to me, and it's my favorite riff throughout ASoIaF. The Old Gods are close. They have never left.

Make Up

Make up whatever narrative
fits the occasion
be a leader
be a follower
be controlled by:
*fashion
*popular opinion
*the feel-goods
walk in the opposite
direction just to
piss people off
and then listen
to what they have
to say about ...
behavior
lies
in the
crack
that
separates
daydreams
and
done deeds.

Pass the Hot Sauce

Pepper.
Mixed with ink.

Throughline -
Commuter spills it.

Signs.
Used to confuse.