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So, I'm getting in the elevator just now, coming back from the nursery,
where I'd bought flowers at lunch. I'm dressed in my long, flowy, dark
green skirt, green striped shirt and big green hat. I'm carrying a flat
of bright orange, pink and yellow iceland poppies, dark pink cyclamen and
sworls of purplish pink flowering kale and cabbage. An older woman sees
me as I walk in with her, and says, "Oh! You look just like a picture!"
"Thanks" I say, "This hat..." "No, it's not just the hat, but your long
red hair and your green skirt, carrying all those flowers...you're a
vision!" This nice lady doesn't know how much I needed random kind words today. May the goddess bless her. Actually, the day is turning out much better than I had hoped. I thought I was going to be sad and tired all day. And, while there are certain things giving me an underlying melancholy, and I AM tired, things are not so bad at all. This is so good; it restores faith in myself, which was shattered cruelly last night. I do have a dilemma, though. If you followed the links yesterday to Holly's journal, you probably read her fable. She asked for a critique, so I started one. Then I started in on a beginning paragraph on how she could retell the story, and the next thing I knew, I'd written a whole new story! This is the first complete piece of fiction I've written in a year, but it's not my idea. I totally took her idea and made it my own, telling the story less as a fable than as a fairytale. I made up characters to tell the same idea, putting in plot and antagonists and setting - the whole bit. And I really like it, but Holly's gonna kill me. I think. I'm rather hoping she'll be thrilled that her idea finally broke my writer's block, and will graciously allow me to try and publish the story. Actually, I'm writing her and asking her if I can use some of her words verbatim (which I really didn't do in my retelling), and we can call it a co-authorship. I wouldn't mind sharing this story with Holly, since it came from her, reminds me of her, and breathes with her essence. Holly is a beautiful person - maybe the prettier soul of us both - and she's my soulmate sister. I'm not surprised, really, that I found it so easy to expound on one of her ideas....I wonder if she'd be willing to write more ideas for me. There was an entry late last night, in case you missed it. There were actually two, but one isn't the sort one should post on a webpage. I intend to rework that poem, as I love the title but think it's a bit too cryptic as is. I'm feeling all creative and writerly, most likely in self-defense. I hope you're all ready for this. I hope I am. Oh, hell, I'm so ready for this I'm bursting at the seams. I'm so ready to defend myself, to express myself, to love myself openly and proudly. I'm ready to forgive MYSELF for my mistakes, even if other people want to hold them against me. I think that's the hardest thing at all (forgive me if I've ranted on this recently) - being able to forgive yourself your mistakes, even when someone else is holding you down. That kind of internal self-reliance is the only thing that brings true outside support, I think. Otherwise you're just being manipulated by some Other. The smoke from the Northern California brush fires is getting to my brain. The air is grey, my sinuses were clogged until an hour ago when the psuedo-whajamigger pills started working. I've been sneezing quite a bit, which is actually sorta cool, as I love sneezing. Isabelle Allende says in _Aphrodite_ (which I just finished and LOVED it - especially because she goes off on tangent after tangent just like my mind works) that sneezing is a sexual experience, which I can see, it being such a dramatic release and all. The coughing and hacking from the smoke of the brush/tire fires I can do without, however. Good sneezing to you! | ||
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