This one’s kind of cheating. Well, maybe just for me, cause I’m so easily inspired and delighted by pop music … but I’m really curious to see what you folks come up with.
Watch; see what it brings up … ready writers? Start writing …
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Pingback: Walking and Talking | kathy+smyly+miller
Posted on my blog: http://kathysmylymiller.com/2012/06/28/walking-and-talking/
Thanks Deb!
Whoo hoo. (thank YOU.) xo
Yes, this one IS kinda cheating. Because whenever I see this video, I am immediately zipped back in time to a room in a house in Belvidere with my sister and Mary Jane. All under 10 at the time … playing that Nancy Sinatra 45 over and over again … and somehow taking it literally-ish. Thinking Nancy’s boots were really going to walk all over someone. We practiced stomping in our imaginary white go-go boots, and I always wondered what sort of guy had done something to our wonderful Nancy … so wrong that he now had to put up with us walking all over him. Take THAT you weenie man. And whether they were designed for destruction, I didn’t care … they were SO COOL and MOD and I longed for her oh-so-groovy white go-go boots.
Well, actually, I longed for Susie Cowsill’s white go-go boots. Susie Cowsill was close to my age, and she was in a singing group (we didn’t call them bands way back in the olden days of the 60′s …), and she got to wear mini-skirts and those awesomely groovy white go-go boots. She also got to appear in magazines and on TV. God, how I wanted to BE HER. But I also had a crush on her older brother John, so maybe I didn’t want to be her, since I wanted to hold hands with her brother. (that’s where my crushes went at that age) (but i digress …).
I wanted Susie Cowsill’s life. Or the life I imagined she had. I recently read something about my beloved Cowsills, and learned that they were controlled with an iron hand by their father in both their professional and personal lives. Like the Jackson 5 without the dancing.
It took me a really long time to realize that I shouldn’t be comparing my life to the image I have of others. (or as the 12 step folks say: don’t compare your insides to other people’s outsides …) That’s danger, danger Will Robinson, indeed. Easy to do in our culture though. It’s hard to escape the barrage of television shows (well, i watch some of them … house hunters international anyone?) where the most pressing problem is that the 4 bedroom 2 million dollar house on the water they’re thinking of buying doesn’t have granite counter-tops, stainless steel appliances and a soaker tub. Arg. Hard also to miss the avalanche of commercials and ads and “get this” “you want this” “if you had this thingie your life would be better/your thighs would be smaller/your teeth would be whiter/your carpet would be cleaner/your sink would sparkle blahblahblah.” It’s all about making the outside pretty in an attempt to … what? Make us feel better? Make us all feel like everything is going to be alright and that we are OK/fine/perfect/supported.
I’ve been playing with this idea that we actually ARE alright, OK and fine/perfect/supported even in our mess-ness. And that I am OK/fine/perfect/supported in my mess-ness. Cause there is some of that. I look at the imperfection and the slowness of my work launching and think: ‘When will I EVER get there?’ …as if a shining there/destination. (i know, i know gertrude, there is no there there. )
On the upside, I’m doing some REALLY cool behind-the-scenes stuff these days and I’m getting SUPER excited about what’s in the pipeline … trying not to get all attached to a *timeline* on the pipeline, because a full-time gig + a personal life can make for a slow-growing side biz. But it’s coming along. Bit by bit. I think I can I think I can I think I can.
So … I’m rambling … yeah, throwing it down. Hard when I forget where I started and all of a sudden I’m in the middle of something else. Oh yes, these boots. Stomping around w/Suz and Mary Jane. But no, I like where I went with the thought. I’ve definitely noticed is that it’s really helpful for me to wait a while after I’ve posted the weeks inspiration/prompts before I come and write; this way, I almost forget what I’ve put down and I come at it with more fresh-ness. Freshly? With a fresher eye. Yes, that’s it. I also notice when I respond to my own little prompts and know that I’m going to post them (unlike some of the stuff i do with the writer babes and in my own personal practice), I feel like there has to make some sort of sense … a through-line, conclusion or … something. Right?
Not. I know better. It’s just about doing it. Seeing where it goes. Seeing what shows up. Using it later to craft something else if I want. For now, just throwing down.