Hi, Everybody!
Glad to be back with you again!
There were no blogs for two weeks, while I attended the International Gem and Mineral Show here in Tucson. I stocked up on enough Findings to last me through a lot of projects for my web page as well as the future classes I'll be teaching in the coming months.
Next Friday I will be presenting a short article called Thoughts at 2:35 a.m. at my Writers Group. Occasionally I like to give myself a challenge and a few weeks ago I read that a good writer should be able to convey a thought or a concept using the least words possible. So I decided to write a short reflection and then pare it down to the bare bones. The thoughts expressed in my wakeful hours are in full chapters which will precede this short one and are in great detail, filled with examples, etc. But I wanted to "wrap up" this section of chapters in a precise manner, using as few words as possible but still telling the reader the significant facts. I'd appreciate your comments whether it is effective or not.
I woke up and started thinking , again. Remembering. Questioning.
I had been this young nineteen-year-old naiive girl who read so many novels where there was always a Happy End. I believed in Happy Ends. The story-book meeting, always by chance, love at first glance, the happily ever after kind of love. He would be Prince Charming.
Once, on a trip home, my sister introduced me to her senior citizen group of friends, "This is my cinderella sister, Jan." I was startled, but, smiling, asked, "Cinderella?" Without hesitation she replied, "Well, you married Prince Charming, didn't you?"
I thought about my struggles to adjust to yet another foreign location, the loneliness I felt, how isolated I had become. But I perpetuated the fantasy. "Oh, right!"
My memories took me back over the years. All the dreams I had had. I had put this god on a pedestal. He was beyond my wildest dreams.
And over the years, little by little, the blocks of that pedestal had been chipped away, one little blow after another. And the god fell in the pile of rubble. So what happens? Why does one go on, is it a sense of duty by then? I prefer to think of it as loyalty. Because the dreams never die; there is always the hope that you live with, every single day.
On my fridge, held by two tiny magnets, is a quotation. The newspaper is now yellowed with age. It shows a sketch of a forest of bare birch trees and a double pair of footprints in the snow, fading to one pair in the distance. It says "I can't promise you that I will be here for the rest of your life. But I can promise you that I will love you for the rest of mine."
My favorite television-watching is the Hallmark movie channel. Uh-huh; mushy, sentimental but tender. And, one minute before the end of every movie they finally get to kiss. At one minute to nine or one minute to eleven every night, you can set your watch. Happy End.
But in real life, you're left standing, looking at your god-statue lying in the pile of rubble. Remembering, remembering all the unfulfilled dreams. Another myth, dashed. Oh, Hallmark, you have a lot to answer for.
Till next week.
Janice
Glad to be back with you again!
There were no blogs for two weeks, while I attended the International Gem and Mineral Show here in Tucson. I stocked up on enough Findings to last me through a lot of projects for my web page as well as the future classes I'll be teaching in the coming months.
Next Friday I will be presenting a short article called Thoughts at 2:35 a.m. at my Writers Group. Occasionally I like to give myself a challenge and a few weeks ago I read that a good writer should be able to convey a thought or a concept using the least words possible. So I decided to write a short reflection and then pare it down to the bare bones. The thoughts expressed in my wakeful hours are in full chapters which will precede this short one and are in great detail, filled with examples, etc. But I wanted to "wrap up" this section of chapters in a precise manner, using as few words as possible but still telling the reader the significant facts. I'd appreciate your comments whether it is effective or not.
I woke up and started thinking , again. Remembering. Questioning.
I had been this young nineteen-year-old naiive girl who read so many novels where there was always a Happy End. I believed in Happy Ends. The story-book meeting, always by chance, love at first glance, the happily ever after kind of love. He would be Prince Charming.
Once, on a trip home, my sister introduced me to her senior citizen group of friends, "This is my cinderella sister, Jan." I was startled, but, smiling, asked, "Cinderella?" Without hesitation she replied, "Well, you married Prince Charming, didn't you?"
I thought about my struggles to adjust to yet another foreign location, the loneliness I felt, how isolated I had become. But I perpetuated the fantasy. "Oh, right!"
My memories took me back over the years. All the dreams I had had. I had put this god on a pedestal. He was beyond my wildest dreams.
And over the years, little by little, the blocks of that pedestal had been chipped away, one little blow after another. And the god fell in the pile of rubble. So what happens? Why does one go on, is it a sense of duty by then? I prefer to think of it as loyalty. Because the dreams never die; there is always the hope that you live with, every single day.
On my fridge, held by two tiny magnets, is a quotation. The newspaper is now yellowed with age. It shows a sketch of a forest of bare birch trees and a double pair of footprints in the snow, fading to one pair in the distance. It says "I can't promise you that I will be here for the rest of your life. But I can promise you that I will love you for the rest of mine."
My favorite television-watching is the Hallmark movie channel. Uh-huh; mushy, sentimental but tender. And, one minute before the end of every movie they finally get to kiss. At one minute to nine or one minute to eleven every night, you can set your watch. Happy End.
But in real life, you're left standing, looking at your god-statue lying in the pile of rubble. Remembering, remembering all the unfulfilled dreams. Another myth, dashed. Oh, Hallmark, you have a lot to answer for.
Till next week.
Janice
You've given a point of view not often seen. I enjoyed this article very much!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much; I value your comment. J.
ReplyDelete