Saturday, October 22, 2005

Patchwork

This was one of those days made up of many seemingly unrelated segments, with no connecting thread and no plan really. Well, there was a plan. Nearly all my days start with a sort of plan, usually made the previous night and often jotted down somewhere and left where I'll be sure to find it, i.e. by the coffee. But sometimes plans need to be put aside. I like what Ray Bradbury said once to a group of young writers. He said you have to just keep writing and sending work out. You have to stop worrying about whether what you want to happen will or won't happen and just wait to see what does happen.
So I spent the early morning packing rats that on Monday, will head out in all directions to people who will be happy to see them.
At the park while Orion played on the slides, I struck up a conversation with a woman who sat down on the grass with me. We started talking about kids, then genetics (she's a student) and finally, depression. An hour later, she was marveling at how she'd been able to tell me, a stranger, so many things she hadn't been able to say to anyone. I imagine all she'd really needed was someone willing to sit and listen and not be embarrassed when she cried.
We stopped to get Orion something to eat. I took a chance and let him have his applesauce cup in the car. He's pretty good with it at home. I counted on him spilling a spoonful or two. He immediately spilled the entire cup in his lap. We were on our way home anyway. I reassured him, saying "It's okay. We'll clean it up." and "It's not your fault." To which he replied,"I know, Mommy. It's your fault," and began spooning it off his pants and into his mouth.

I've resumed work on a book project that has lain dormant for far too long. (Also my fault) It's a collection of stories written for images of various pieces of art, some pieces Neil wrote previously and some new ones by David Niall Wilson. It's to be more or less an art book. Cemetary Dance will be putting it all together. I'm sure they'll do a lovely job. It's me that got stuck. The Gaiman pieces are very short and the David Wilson pieces much longer and several of them are so removed from my concept of what I imagined the art was about that I've had a difficult time reconciling the mix into any sort of whole. But the stories are good and I think I'm very close to a way to pull it together.
I must. Because I said I would and because I'll need to move on soon to Tiny Stories. I'm very much looking forward to that one. We've received stories from all around the world.

I've chosen my armature for the house piece. I've settled upon an unsightly old floor lamp that I didn't throw out because I thought that one day I might make something out of it. It has a very heavy base, which is an asset for armature. The other asset is that I won't have to weld anything or screw anything together, which will sort of make up for the time I lost during my hospital adventure. Tomorrow my daughter Alison is coming to spend the day. She says she's had a cold and needs some babying and some of mom's homemade soup. She says she's bringing her pillow. So tomorrow I'll get up and put some soup on and make tea and she and I will toss ideas around.

G'night

2 comments:

Carl V. said...

"I know, Mommy. It's your fault," ...that is so great, I can't stop laughing. One of the wonderful things about having kids is that they are little stand up comedians. Thanks for the cheerful start to the day.

Really_Rather_Not_Nice said...

It's funny because its true. Kids have absolutely no qualms about speaking the world as plainly as they see it. They don't feel the need to censor themselves. We program that into them for the adult world of modicum and etiquette. But kids are all about excess and bluntness. The ultimate definition of "Freedom of Speech". My daughter is the same way. This was Orion's way of saying, "Hey mom, you made a judgement call, and it really didn't pan out so well." My daughter uses this stunning clarity of mind and crystal clear logic on me almost every day. She will be the death of me of course, but I'm proud of her.

Lisa, I'm also taking a page out of that same book you are, and trying to go ahead and make things happen, with out worrying precisely about what the results are going to be. I'm drudging out old projects (one of which you know about) and setting them free on an unsuspecting world. No one else is going to do it for me, and I will never know what might happen unless I do.