Monday, February 28, 2011

Plastic


Evelyn: On long days I am often greeted with unending enthusiasm by the dog, who often has missed me enough to pee a little if I return the enthusiasm too soon. He doesn't understand "wind down" and like a little kid, wants full acknowledgment and attention for at least the first 10 minutes after I have returned from the Abyss of life beyond the garage door. If I fail to meet those needs for attention, Gizmo begins the ritual of rummaging through his toy box, carefully selecting an assortment of cloth and plastic toys that just might stir my interest, and dropping them at my feet for careful scrutiny of my response. If I don't respond the pile gets bigger. I am grateful for the plastic toys that manage to withstand the brutal terror of Gizmo's wrath, whose limbs remain intact;  although wide-eyed and worried, this elephant has not fallen victim to Gizmo's efforts to de-squeakify and dismember him, and lays resting long enough to wonder from which side the next attack may come.


Monica: The art desk sits woefully unused in a corner of our living room. It's home to a stack of journals, tins of art supplies, fortune cookie fortunes, and used postage stamps, and a caddy of colorful plastic scissors that cut different-shaped edges on paper.  I've taken to writing my three-pages-a-day in bed at night, which really just encourages my process of avoidance. I'm writing more than I have in years, yes, but I'm also doing the bare minimum to get by, which I recognize as lazy. When I hunker down at the desk, I often end up writing pages more. Sometimes I am distracted by the art supplies and I actually create something: a little watercolor painting or a collage. I want to spend more time here, but I also want to be gentle with myself and acknowledge that just writing and taking photos every day is a huge step for me.

3 comments:

  1. I don't believe there really IS a GAS SHORTAGE.. I think it's all just a BIG HOAX on the part of the plastic sign salesmen -- to sell more numbers!
    ----------------
    Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate school mountain but there in the sandbox at nursery school.
    These are the things I learned: Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess.
    Don't take things that aren't yours. Say you're sorry when you hurt someone.
    Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work some every day.
    Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out into the world, watch for
    traffic, hold hands, and stick together. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the plastic cup. The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that. Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the plastic cup -- they all
    die. So do we.
    And then remember the book about Dick and Jane and the first word you learned, the biggest word of all: LOOK. Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation. Ecology and
    politics and sane living.
    Think of what a better world it would be if we all -- the whole world -- had cookies and milk about 3 o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankets for a nap. Or if we had a basic policy in our nation and other nations to always put things back where we found them and cleaned up our own messes. And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out intothe world it is best to hold hands and stick together.
    -- Robert Fulghum, "All I ever really needed to know I learned in kindergarten"

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  2. Well, my sister... Chapter 9 - Julia Cameron: (and I am not quoting directly but attempting to drag it from memory - something we just discussed last night) Let's call things by their true names...We often tell ourselves that NOT starting is Laziness, but the hesitation we take is not laziness, it is fear. AND procrastination... yep... that one is fear too! Because actually functioning without our crippling fears is a bit intimidating...downright against what we know after years of self criticism and fear. Just say'in! <3 E

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  3. PS. The name of that chapter is Regaining a Sense of Compassion ... please stop calling yourself names, and fire your critic... I love what you write, what you do, your photos, your ever-going strong support and gentleness, and even the times things don't feel quite so gentle... all in the name of our higher good! Whoopie - you can blame me if you like, I will offer up full responsibility for tickling your edges so you write with every photo, because God knows you can't have the unbalance of just MY piece up there! ;-)

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