Social Column 3 Well, here goes week 3 of my column.....
I like a town that blocks itself off to party.,,and that is exactly what the town of Berlin did at their 9th annual Spring Fling party last Saturday. I lived in the Detroit metropolitan area for the past 8 years,and I admit my initial draw was the grand finale of the festival, the Pig Races. I just couldn't fathom pigs being raced on a downtown street. Was it the American version of the bull run of Pamplona? Was it a slick imitation of rural Mayberryism for the tourists?
Curious, I just had to go and see for myself.
I found the answer, and a whole lot more. The weather was sweater cold and gray, but that didn't stop the press of people downtown. My first stop was The Waterline Gallery. I knew they were having an exhibit honoring 4th grade artists, so I wandered inside. Aside from some truly stunning art, I realized genuine community spirit at work. A huge paper canvas covered one wall of the gallery, and black-smocked youngsters painted away with abandon. Perhaps the experience nudged a budding Patrick Henry or Van Gogh to uncover their talent? At the very least, the look on their faces proved that art is fun,and that children will create, given the opportunity.
I walked on, enchanted by a trio of little girls in their Easter bonnets, getting their pictures snapped on the steps of the Atlantic hotel.I watched as kids rock-climbed a cliff wall sponsored by Extreme Entertainment. Arts and crafts vendors were set up on both sides of the street, and the smell of french fries and grilling sausages filled the air.
My eye caught a delicious display of pies, and turkeys, and cakes. Wow! Someone must have been cooking for weeks to offer such an array of goodies! Then I read their sign, "Fake Sale." The artist, Dallas Hewitt, had crafted everything from materials bought at Home Depot.He got his start 12 years ago, just to keep busy after retirement. His wife, Joan, rang up purchases, while Dallas cracked, "Made for the eyes, not for the thighs."
At the other end of the spectrum, I met young local entrepreneurs Megan Fulton and Matt Center, whose booth," Lots of Knots" featured delicately woven hanging bottles and hemp jewelry. Megan explained that her artistry started with "just keeping my hands busy". The result is a thriving business, proving the old adage, do what you love, and success will follow.
Past the petting zoo, with little ones snuggling bunnies and petting lambs. I followed the haybale fence to the mobile truck pen holding...you guessed it, the PIGS! Cute little critters, all under a year old and weighing about 25 lbs, with racing numbers painted on their backs. If pigs can look bewildered, these did. I imagined their conversation went something like this, "what are we DOING here? What's it say on my back?" And the reply, "I dunno,just as long as it's not a BBQ."
Strains of music filtered in from the north side of town, where the band "Country Grass" played down home music. The crowd went wild when a tiny cowboy, 2 year old Devon Pursel of Berlin, walked in front of the stage in his boots and black cowboy hat. He was a drama unto himself,dancing and clapping to the beat.Others joined him, and soon people were literally dancing in the street. People talked to one another, people knew each other's names. You sure didn't get this in Detroit.
The pig-calling contest was next. Two categories, children and adult. The winners were chosen by the crowd, with Justin of Berlin, screaming "PIG, I SAID, COME PIG",in first place for the children's division, and Skeets Z. of Libertytown, claiming the adult title, with his longwinded, almost operatic call.
The air turned colder, but I wouldn't have missed the pig races for the world.The crowd lined the street in anticipation. Two by two, the squealing pigs were led out of their pen, to the starting line 20 feet away. It was no mean feat, and I was amazed to see the local president of the Chamber of Commerce, Earl Conley, shooing and herding and even PICKING UP the protesting porkers. You don't see that in Detroit, either. Representatives from local businesses and private sponsors were positioned next to their contestants, with instructions of "no pushing, no touching, just hollering and foot stomping" their pigs to the finish line. The winner? Truthfully, I walked my numbed feet and frozen nose home as the last three pigs were about to race.
I had come to see what I wanted to see. Gone was my smirking perception of a "hokey" small town festival. What I found was a cherished gem of American culture and values, where a closeknit community came together for the common enjoyment and education of all.
Is this an endangered way of life? Next week I will introduce a guest writer, Dr. Robert Poli, who has some very thought provoking ideas on the subject.
See you next week!
Monday, March 28, 2005
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Wednesday Night~~
If you read yesterday's blog, you know i published my second column, due out tomorrow in the Gazette.
It just tells half of the story. In truth, each word was like walking with a piece of glass in my foot...painful, but necessary to get where i was going.
For i was the "assistant" to Shelby. I was the other half of the team, i was the one that laughed, and nurtured, and loved the seniors.
I made the choice to quit, because my insane boss at the mattress store was unwilling to let me work both jobs. I was willing; I didn't care how many hours i worked, and never have cared, as long as i could do something that i loved, and still take care of my family.
Once again, the scenario unfolded...did i do what i loved, or take care of who i loved? I gave up the kitchen concession in Florida because it was the job, or the kids survival. I gave up the gourmet cooking job in Michigan, for the same reason. I couldn't do both;both jobs would have made great money eventually, but, eventually isn't quick enough when you have to pay rent, and doctors bills, and buy healthy groceries for growing kids.
Me, i wouldnt mind living on the 4 basics...Coffee, tunafish, peanutbutter, and wine. Not the recommended diet for growing boys, though.
Me, i wouldn't mind a one room flat, with a hotplate and and plant in the window.Not exactly the white picket fence and the stability kids need.
And then the third strike;..did i stay at the senior center, where i felt fulfilled, needed, and doing God's work, or cut and run to pay my Maryland responsibilities, my Mich. responsibilites, car payments, ect? Not to mention taking on J., and his "challenges". So, i left the center.
By God, nothing is going to stop my writing now. Enough is enough. I won't let this chance to feel my soul sing pass me by. Money or no money. Kids or no kids.
This one's for me.
Later.
If you read yesterday's blog, you know i published my second column, due out tomorrow in the Gazette.
It just tells half of the story. In truth, each word was like walking with a piece of glass in my foot...painful, but necessary to get where i was going.
For i was the "assistant" to Shelby. I was the other half of the team, i was the one that laughed, and nurtured, and loved the seniors.
I made the choice to quit, because my insane boss at the mattress store was unwilling to let me work both jobs. I was willing; I didn't care how many hours i worked, and never have cared, as long as i could do something that i loved, and still take care of my family.
Once again, the scenario unfolded...did i do what i loved, or take care of who i loved? I gave up the kitchen concession in Florida because it was the job, or the kids survival. I gave up the gourmet cooking job in Michigan, for the same reason. I couldn't do both;both jobs would have made great money eventually, but, eventually isn't quick enough when you have to pay rent, and doctors bills, and buy healthy groceries for growing kids.
Me, i wouldnt mind living on the 4 basics...Coffee, tunafish, peanutbutter, and wine. Not the recommended diet for growing boys, though.
Me, i wouldn't mind a one room flat, with a hotplate and and plant in the window.Not exactly the white picket fence and the stability kids need.
And then the third strike;..did i stay at the senior center, where i felt fulfilled, needed, and doing God's work, or cut and run to pay my Maryland responsibilities, my Mich. responsibilites, car payments, ect? Not to mention taking on J., and his "challenges". So, i left the center.
By God, nothing is going to stop my writing now. Enough is enough. I won't let this chance to feel my soul sing pass me by. Money or no money. Kids or no kids.
This one's for me.
Later.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Tuesday Morning~~
Well, my second column is sent off to the editor.., and here it is...
Seniors. We are all going to be one, if we are lucky. But what is there for us, if our children are long gone, and we are retired from our careers? Where to go? What to do?
The Berlin Senior Center has provided the answer for many of our area seniors. I volunteer there, and I would love to tell you more about this vital community service. The Director, Shelby Bacon, is a 5'2, blue-eyed dynamo that never stops. Her heels click rapidly on the worn linoleum floor, as she dashes from her office to the kitchen to the long tables where the seniors congregate. It's not a job for the faint hearted, nor for someone who is looking to get rich. But, in Shelby's words, " I have always felt that I get so much more back from them then I could possibly give to them."
I know how she feels. It's not just a place to watch TV or play bingo. It's a unique family unto itself, made up of people like Tommy, who, at age 95, will croon "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" with a little encouragement. It's Margaret, who helps her fellow seniors that aren't as mobile as she, and helps staff serve lunch. It's Liz, flirty at 86, always ready to liven up the day with a smile or a song. It's Jackie, who leads chair exercise daily, and "Miss" Vivian, who runs the thrift shop located in the center. (and is rumored to make the best bread pudding in Berlin). And I can't not mention Frank, age 100, cracking jokes and winking at the ladies and extolling the virtues of green tea. I could go on and on, for each of my friends there are unique.
But what do they DO there? The day starts for Shelby and her assistant, Sylvia Dixon, at 7:30 am. That's when the phones start ringing, with who is coming and who is not, because there is a bus service to and from the center each day. Clarence drives the Ocean Pines route, and Jim the local Berlin route. Seniors themselves, they aren't just employees. They watch over their clients, helping them with steps, walkers, and packages. Each day they drive the Meals on Wheels lunch route, too, a service for those in the community that are homebound. The Kiwanis Club of Ocean Pines/Greater Ocean City provides volunteers to help Jim and Clarence with delivery, so a great big thank you to them, too.
In the kitchen, Jim and Virgie get the coffee going, and put out morning snacks. Hot lunches are provided at a minimal cost, prepared by the staff at Stephan Decatur High School, and brought in by the Kiwanis team.
Some days it's just chat and lunch, a place for companionship. The real fun comes from the warmth and nurturing by Shelby and Sylvia, and the wonderful people who take the time to enrich the lives of the senior communityby volunteering. Teddy comes with her guitar, and starts a sing-a-long. Debbie and her husband Les hold weekly Bible study. Nadine and Betty guide crafts. Gloria comes in and does nails. Father Michael and Rev. Baer deliver spiritual messages.
Miracles happen here, too. Funded on a shoestring by Federal, State, the County and private donations, money for extras is always tight. When the ancient copy machine refused to crank another memo, Shelby called a newspaper ad selling a used machine. The seller decided the center needed it more than he needed the money, and donated it instead.
There is a "wish list" of items needed...the center would love a bumper pool table and an exercise bike. Gently used clothing, books, musical CD's and tapes, and VCR movies would also be put to good use.
If you love to sing, or have a special talent, or even just a small dog to bring for pet therapy, they would love your visit. The Senior Center is open Monday through Thursday, from 8:30 am to 1:30 pm. The phone number is (410)641-0515, and it's located at 107 Williams Street, Berlin. (directly across the street from the Burbage Funeral Home).
Stop by and meet the family. They will welcome you with open arms, like they did me.
See you next week!
Well, my second column is sent off to the editor.., and here it is...
Seniors. We are all going to be one, if we are lucky. But what is there for us, if our children are long gone, and we are retired from our careers? Where to go? What to do?
The Berlin Senior Center has provided the answer for many of our area seniors. I volunteer there, and I would love to tell you more about this vital community service. The Director, Shelby Bacon, is a 5'2, blue-eyed dynamo that never stops. Her heels click rapidly on the worn linoleum floor, as she dashes from her office to the kitchen to the long tables where the seniors congregate. It's not a job for the faint hearted, nor for someone who is looking to get rich. But, in Shelby's words, " I have always felt that I get so much more back from them then I could possibly give to them."
I know how she feels. It's not just a place to watch TV or play bingo. It's a unique family unto itself, made up of people like Tommy, who, at age 95, will croon "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" with a little encouragement. It's Margaret, who helps her fellow seniors that aren't as mobile as she, and helps staff serve lunch. It's Liz, flirty at 86, always ready to liven up the day with a smile or a song. It's Jackie, who leads chair exercise daily, and "Miss" Vivian, who runs the thrift shop located in the center. (and is rumored to make the best bread pudding in Berlin). And I can't not mention Frank, age 100, cracking jokes and winking at the ladies and extolling the virtues of green tea. I could go on and on, for each of my friends there are unique.
But what do they DO there? The day starts for Shelby and her assistant, Sylvia Dixon, at 7:30 am. That's when the phones start ringing, with who is coming and who is not, because there is a bus service to and from the center each day. Clarence drives the Ocean Pines route, and Jim the local Berlin route. Seniors themselves, they aren't just employees. They watch over their clients, helping them with steps, walkers, and packages. Each day they drive the Meals on Wheels lunch route, too, a service for those in the community that are homebound. The Kiwanis Club of Ocean Pines/Greater Ocean City provides volunteers to help Jim and Clarence with delivery, so a great big thank you to them, too.
In the kitchen, Jim and Virgie get the coffee going, and put out morning snacks. Hot lunches are provided at a minimal cost, prepared by the staff at Stephan Decatur High School, and brought in by the Kiwanis team.
Some days it's just chat and lunch, a place for companionship. The real fun comes from the warmth and nurturing by Shelby and Sylvia, and the wonderful people who take the time to enrich the lives of the senior communityby volunteering. Teddy comes with her guitar, and starts a sing-a-long. Debbie and her husband Les hold weekly Bible study. Nadine and Betty guide crafts. Gloria comes in and does nails. Father Michael and Rev. Baer deliver spiritual messages.
Miracles happen here, too. Funded on a shoestring by Federal, State, the County and private donations, money for extras is always tight. When the ancient copy machine refused to crank another memo, Shelby called a newspaper ad selling a used machine. The seller decided the center needed it more than he needed the money, and donated it instead.
There is a "wish list" of items needed...the center would love a bumper pool table and an exercise bike. Gently used clothing, books, musical CD's and tapes, and VCR movies would also be put to good use.
If you love to sing, or have a special talent, or even just a small dog to bring for pet therapy, they would love your visit. The Senior Center is open Monday through Thursday, from 8:30 am to 1:30 pm. The phone number is (410)641-0515, and it's located at 107 Williams Street, Berlin. (directly across the street from the Burbage Funeral Home).
Stop by and meet the family. They will welcome you with open arms, like they did me.
See you next week!
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Saturday Morning~~
I am dressed and perfumed and gel-ed and ready for work, fueled up on some high octane coffee. I don't want to go sell mattresses, I don't want to be persuasive or look for buying signals, ect, ect, ect.
I want to work outside in the yard, go to beach, write. My sister had a dream about me last night, that i learned to play golf. Golf? There has got to be some significance to that...But what? Swinging a club? Entering a male dominated sport? Whatever it is, she said i was having a ball doing it...
Writing this morning is like walking through molasses. Possible, but, sticky and not very smooth. SO, I will reluctantly take my mermaid self off to work, and catch you, Later.
I am dressed and perfumed and gel-ed and ready for work, fueled up on some high octane coffee. I don't want to go sell mattresses, I don't want to be persuasive or look for buying signals, ect, ect, ect.
I want to work outside in the yard, go to beach, write. My sister had a dream about me last night, that i learned to play golf. Golf? There has got to be some significance to that...But what? Swinging a club? Entering a male dominated sport? Whatever it is, she said i was having a ball doing it...
Writing this morning is like walking through molasses. Possible, but, sticky and not very smooth. SO, I will reluctantly take my mermaid self off to work, and catch you, Later.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
March 17th
I don't know how i did it, but it is exactly within the week of my first blog, a year ago, that i am now a published author. I write a column now, in a local newspaper called the Bayside Gazette. All day i squirmed and dreamed at work(another mattress store...UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH), as i waited to get off work and see if it was real...
I went to the grocery store, one of the places they distribute the local papers. Nonchalantly i picked up the paper, and walked inside...Hmnn, seedless white grapes, on sale for 1.79...in the cart they went. A smile just started to smirk across my face,...but, i resisted the urge to look...was i REALLY there, in print?
Beans on sale., garbanzos to make my garlic roasted red pepper hummus, and black beans to make chicken and rice, with cumin...Pepsi, (okay, not good for me, but what a nice sugur rush), and cat food, and sweet smelling hair conditioner...
I couldn't resist anymore literary foreplay...I urgently opened the paper..and there i was, staring out at me with a wry smile...all curly haired and bespeckled with my hand on my chin..I whipped my head to the right, to the left...I almost felt like i had been caught masterbating in public, or, at the very least, naked...
Then a slow, delightful, all encompassing warmth filled me...I DID it! Through all life's twists and turns, through all my self doubt and self circuits, i DID it...
Now there is no stopping me. .Because the floodgates are opened, because all is possible, because I am so happy...Later.
I don't know how i did it, but it is exactly within the week of my first blog, a year ago, that i am now a published author. I write a column now, in a local newspaper called the Bayside Gazette. All day i squirmed and dreamed at work(another mattress store...UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH), as i waited to get off work and see if it was real...
I went to the grocery store, one of the places they distribute the local papers. Nonchalantly i picked up the paper, and walked inside...Hmnn, seedless white grapes, on sale for 1.79...in the cart they went. A smile just started to smirk across my face,...but, i resisted the urge to look...was i REALLY there, in print?
Beans on sale., garbanzos to make my garlic roasted red pepper hummus, and black beans to make chicken and rice, with cumin...Pepsi, (okay, not good for me, but what a nice sugur rush), and cat food, and sweet smelling hair conditioner...
I couldn't resist anymore literary foreplay...I urgently opened the paper..and there i was, staring out at me with a wry smile...all curly haired and bespeckled with my hand on my chin..I whipped my head to the right, to the left...I almost felt like i had been caught masterbating in public, or, at the very least, naked...
Then a slow, delightful, all encompassing warmth filled me...I DID it! Through all life's twists and turns, through all my self doubt and self circuits, i DID it...
Now there is no stopping me. .Because the floodgates are opened, because all is possible, because I am so happy...Later.
Friday, March 11, 2005
March 11th..
What a wonderful, wonderful day. Twentythree years ago i gave birth...to my beautiful son Todd...it was the start of the most joyous, delicious journey...and today, again, i give birth....the previous post is a copy of my submission to a local newspaper to write a social column....Within three hours of emailing the publisher., she responded, telling me she loved it...I am now a writer whose going to be published!It's another anniversary, too...because a year ago i started this blog....
So don't ever give up on your dreams....if you follow your heart,, it just may come true....Later.
What a wonderful, wonderful day. Twentythree years ago i gave birth...to my beautiful son Todd...it was the start of the most joyous, delicious journey...and today, again, i give birth....the previous post is a copy of my submission to a local newspaper to write a social column....Within three hours of emailing the publisher., she responded, telling me she loved it...I am now a writer whose going to be published!It's another anniversary, too...because a year ago i started this blog....
So don't ever give up on your dreams....if you follow your heart,, it just may come true....Later.
Social Column(Fox Hunt?)
When I was approached to write a social column for the Bayside Gazette, my first reaction was sheer joy.
Me! I have always loved to write, and my head buzzed with a million stories I could tell. I accepted the assignment.
My second reaction was.."What the heck is a social column, anyway?" Writing about black tie affairs? Rubbing shoulders with first families and the diamond draped? Uh-oh. My favorite attire is faded jeans with the knees ripped out. Yet...I am a very social creature, known to accost perfect strangers on the street with a smile and conversation. Perhaps a social column is about art gallery openings, music festivals, interesting seminars and doings about town? Hmnn...That sounded better, but still not quite right.
In desperation I turned to the dictionary. I found 2 entries for the word SOCIAL that seemed to fit. "living together or enjoying life in communities" and "marked by friendly companionship with others." EUREKA! That's what I would write about..enjoying life, enjoying people here in our community.
I am a newcomer to the eastern shore, so new, in fact, that last fall I was still puzzled about where the town of " Delmarva" was. ( I now realize, blushingly, that "Delmarva" is the eastern shore nickname for Delaware, Maryland and Virginia beach areas.) My initial contacts with people here took on an almost scary tint; somewhat like Mayberry meets the Stepford wives. I discovered people come in three distinct flavors here, those born to the area, those vacationing here, and the relocated "outsiders" like me. It seems to be a much bigger distinction here then in the midwestern city that I hail from. I was shocked by the lower pay scales, and the high prices at the grocery store. Though I haven't experienced it yet, I have been thoroughly frightened by stories of horrible traffic jams in the summer.And the soaring prices of real estate deserves it's OWN column.
Still, there is a beauty and gentle pace here that is hard to resist. I am still awed by the wild ponies at Assateaque, and the play of light across the water crossing the Route 90 bridge. The coolness I felt at my initial reception has begun to thaw.
I am volunteering at a local senior center, and have met some fascinating, caring people there. They have regaled me with stories of Ocean City's early years, when there was only a two-lane road and one bridge in and out. I have made friends with the manager of a local art gallery, and met several celebrated local artists. I've sat and talked to a spicy, 91 year old grande dame of one of the founding families here. I've shaken hands with Mayor Tom Cardinale, when he came to my house for last years Historic Christmas house tour. I've eaten raw oysters at BJ's on the Water, and the roast beef platter at Bull on the Beach. I have been to the circus down in Salisbury, and the oldies concert at the Ocean City convention center. I can't wait for Spring Fest, and the Pig Auction in Berlin. Pig auction?
It's a crazy mix here of cornfields and cocktails, of raucous boardwalk and serene seashore, cultural pursuits and downright party fever.
I think I just convinced myself that it's going to be fun to be here.
I now understand what this column is all about....PEOPLE, people and their activities that I find interesting. So be careful, because you never know where I will be, or if YOU will be the one I write about next...Later.
When I was approached to write a social column for the Bayside Gazette, my first reaction was sheer joy.
Me! I have always loved to write, and my head buzzed with a million stories I could tell. I accepted the assignment.
My second reaction was.."What the heck is a social column, anyway?" Writing about black tie affairs? Rubbing shoulders with first families and the diamond draped? Uh-oh. My favorite attire is faded jeans with the knees ripped out. Yet...I am a very social creature, known to accost perfect strangers on the street with a smile and conversation. Perhaps a social column is about art gallery openings, music festivals, interesting seminars and doings about town? Hmnn...That sounded better, but still not quite right.
In desperation I turned to the dictionary. I found 2 entries for the word SOCIAL that seemed to fit. "living together or enjoying life in communities" and "marked by friendly companionship with others." EUREKA! That's what I would write about..enjoying life, enjoying people here in our community.
I am a newcomer to the eastern shore, so new, in fact, that last fall I was still puzzled about where the town of " Delmarva" was. ( I now realize, blushingly, that "Delmarva" is the eastern shore nickname for Delaware, Maryland and Virginia beach areas.) My initial contacts with people here took on an almost scary tint; somewhat like Mayberry meets the Stepford wives. I discovered people come in three distinct flavors here, those born to the area, those vacationing here, and the relocated "outsiders" like me. It seems to be a much bigger distinction here then in the midwestern city that I hail from. I was shocked by the lower pay scales, and the high prices at the grocery store. Though I haven't experienced it yet, I have been thoroughly frightened by stories of horrible traffic jams in the summer.And the soaring prices of real estate deserves it's OWN column.
Still, there is a beauty and gentle pace here that is hard to resist. I am still awed by the wild ponies at Assateaque, and the play of light across the water crossing the Route 90 bridge. The coolness I felt at my initial reception has begun to thaw.
I am volunteering at a local senior center, and have met some fascinating, caring people there. They have regaled me with stories of Ocean City's early years, when there was only a two-lane road and one bridge in and out. I have made friends with the manager of a local art gallery, and met several celebrated local artists. I've sat and talked to a spicy, 91 year old grande dame of one of the founding families here. I've shaken hands with Mayor Tom Cardinale, when he came to my house for last years Historic Christmas house tour. I've eaten raw oysters at BJ's on the Water, and the roast beef platter at Bull on the Beach. I have been to the circus down in Salisbury, and the oldies concert at the Ocean City convention center. I can't wait for Spring Fest, and the Pig Auction in Berlin. Pig auction?
It's a crazy mix here of cornfields and cocktails, of raucous boardwalk and serene seashore, cultural pursuits and downright party fever.
I think I just convinced myself that it's going to be fun to be here.
I now understand what this column is all about....PEOPLE, people and their activities that I find interesting. So be careful, because you never know where I will be, or if YOU will be the one I write about next...Later.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Saturday, March 5th~~
Well, it's been a long time, i know. I have been writing privately, these last few months, poetry too steamy to post. Those poems come from a different place then my usual ramblings..they, too, write themselves, but have a particular urgency that comes on me suddenly, a gust of wind out of nowhere, and then is gone.
I have had the most exciting thing happen...An opportunity to write a column for one of the local newspapers here. Me! I am exhilerated, frightened to my toes, and ready for it.
Only problem is...it's a social column. I am certainly not part of high society, nor a social climber by any means. But, i am not one to sit home with a can of beer and watch "Friends" reruns, either. So what to write about? WHO to write about?
I started by going to an art opening last night with my friend P., who is the manager of a local art gallery. She sailed with ease through the bluebloods and artists alike, while i found myself nervously adjusting my glasses on my nose, and just observing. She is a Leo, and I don't know if it is my curse or salvation, because i seem to always find myself in the company of strong-willed Aries and Leo's , determined to pull me out of my Cancerian shell.
She introduced me smoothly...as a local newspaper writer! I had no choice but to pull out my everpresent notebook and camera..At first all i could do was scribble about the food, desperately faking it...(olive tapenade, pasty gray hummas, crackers, lots of crackers) then i relaxed, and met the artists themselves, and found myself pulled into their stories...The brownhaired pixie with the shy eyes, whose sculpture showed a voluptous passion deep inside..The white haired professor whose paintings spoke of seeing the infinite patterned in everyday objects..The artist who lived in Italy, who painted cats with color and zest sweeping, operatic brushstrokes.
How do i put this in a social column? I don't know, yet. I have a week to turn it in to the editor...I think i am about to swim in some new currents, indeed. P.S. I guess i better learn how to spell, too., lol.
Well, it's been a long time, i know. I have been writing privately, these last few months, poetry too steamy to post. Those poems come from a different place then my usual ramblings..they, too, write themselves, but have a particular urgency that comes on me suddenly, a gust of wind out of nowhere, and then is gone.
I have had the most exciting thing happen...An opportunity to write a column for one of the local newspapers here. Me! I am exhilerated, frightened to my toes, and ready for it.
Only problem is...it's a social column. I am certainly not part of high society, nor a social climber by any means. But, i am not one to sit home with a can of beer and watch "Friends" reruns, either. So what to write about? WHO to write about?
I started by going to an art opening last night with my friend P., who is the manager of a local art gallery. She sailed with ease through the bluebloods and artists alike, while i found myself nervously adjusting my glasses on my nose, and just observing. She is a Leo, and I don't know if it is my curse or salvation, because i seem to always find myself in the company of strong-willed Aries and Leo's , determined to pull me out of my Cancerian shell.
She introduced me smoothly...as a local newspaper writer! I had no choice but to pull out my everpresent notebook and camera..At first all i could do was scribble about the food, desperately faking it...(olive tapenade, pasty gray hummas, crackers, lots of crackers) then i relaxed, and met the artists themselves, and found myself pulled into their stories...The brownhaired pixie with the shy eyes, whose sculpture showed a voluptous passion deep inside..The white haired professor whose paintings spoke of seeing the infinite patterned in everyday objects..The artist who lived in Italy, who painted cats with color and zest sweeping, operatic brushstrokes.
How do i put this in a social column? I don't know, yet. I have a week to turn it in to the editor...I think i am about to swim in some new currents, indeed. P.S. I guess i better learn how to spell, too., lol.
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