Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I Won't Show This To Anyone



If I kept a diary, I'd start it off by saying -- I dream of snakes every night. This, of course, is not strictly true. Last night I dreamed that I was at an airplane crash survivor's meeting and saw my dad. And many nights, my dreams are too boring to repeat. But a lot of times, it's snakes, pooled into themselves or on the river, swimming next to me. So there'd be an emotional truth to my statement, the kind of thing a diary records, I suppose. Don't know because I've never been able to keep one. A diary by definition is for yourself and, while I do many things for myself -- gorge on chocolate, drink endless vats of Dr. Pepper, drag broken glass over my skin (pick out the lie in that sentence, like a Choose Your Own Adventure book!), writing is not one of them. I've often tricked myself into saying, I won't show this to anyone, but if it turns out, I always do. There's no subject I won't write about as a rule, but I don't have much control over what I write -- it's always some obssessional interest that won't leave, like those guests on a Saturday Night Live skit, who stay way past the point of social fun.

My life, by and large, is not all that interesting. I'm not out hunting for big game or attending bullfights, not taking care of children, or even weeding a garden. If it was, I might be tempted to write it out in a traditional chronological narrative, tell the page how I got from point a to point b. Flannery O'Connor once said about the body and blood of Christ, the taking of the eucharist and whether it was symbolic, If it's not real, then to hell with it. That's my only guiding light when it comes to writing. The snakes, you see, are real, at least until I open my eyes, which I never do.

Michelle's Spell of the Day

"Thought and beauty, like a hurricane or waves, should not know conventional, delimited forms." Anton Chekhov

Cocktail Hour

Drinking movie suggestion: The Last Night at the Alamo

Benedictions and Maledictions

Happy Wednesday!

23 comments:

Anonymous said...

I want to be your Mr. Bubble, baby.

Anonymous said...

Dear Michelle,
I pray my best when my eyes are closed. Tightly closed, as in "God please help me get out of this snow bank." I'm so weak.

Anonymous said...

Flannery O'Connor isn't my kind of Christian; not a bad writer, though.

Anonymous said...

Looks like perky little Rachel Ray's husband has already been caught cheating on her. No 30 minute meals for him.

Anonymous said...

If only I could control my obssessions.--Anonymous

Pythia3 said...

Good Morning Michelle.

I, too, am one who likes snakes. Always have. I remember my dad taking my sisters and I and our beagle, Rocky, into the fields by our house. I used to look for the garter snakes to pick up and hold. Maybe it all comes from my "Pythianess" many millennia ago.

I have found that, generally speaking of course, women who like snakes tend to frighten men. I don't know if it is because we keep them coiled around our arm for adornment (the snakes, that is) or if it is because we could use them as secret weapons? And the list of possibilities goes on.

About writing, I do write for myself in the way I must write certain things that gnaw at my psyche, heart, brain . . . or I can't truly rest. I think you write for yourself in that way too - to keep your sanity when the thoughts and pictures bombard you until you release them into words. But, as far as writing something strictly for myself and for no one else's eyes . . . well, I am not good at that at all. I always seem to show someone. This could be my needing someone to really SEE and "GET" me (which may never happen) or simply a little exhibitionist pleasure.

Anyway, Happy Wednesday and happy shedding! Baths are always good for that.

Anonymous said...

I thought Ernie was such a stud. But what started turning me off about him was that he insisted I run with him in that stinking Spanish festival. What a fool.

Anonymous said...

Wow... this one spoke to me. I feel the same way about my life. I'm not that interesting of a person. However, others seem to think that I am primarily because the one true talent I have is to mold myself into whatever someone else may want me to be and by doing so, they like me and find me interesting. I do realize that this is not the best way to be as, over time, I may have lost my own identity.
Thanks for your writings, they make the day more interesting. (and I cannot end this rant without saying...NICE PIC!)

Anonymous said...

I find being lost in the struggles of others to be a totally euphoric, soul-saving experience.

Anonymous said...

Remember the Alamo!!!

Anonymous said...

Oh my god Ms. Brooks, that picture totally made me laugh

You are an amzing writer.

And I totaly have the hello kitty bubble bath, Sam does too.

Anonymous said...

Supposedly, there are 23 flavors in Dr. Pepper. All in all, DP tastes to me like a fuller bodied Cherry Coke. I do get a burst of energy from the Dr., and I like it much better than Pepsi, unless the Pepsi is ice, ice cold in a plastic cup, no bottle. Vernors is good for a change, but most often I prefer ice tea with lemon and Equal.

Anonymous said...

You're a wiki superstar, honey-pie!
kiss kiss
Bon Bon

Anonymous said...

splishsplash Cajun Queen
Foxy
Detroit
Lady
O
Mighty
Isis
Shazammmmmmmmm!
R2 C2!!!!!

Anonymous said...

I had a bunch of diaries. They all went pretty much the same way though. I would buy them for the pretty paper or cover design and I would write religiously in them for a week straight.... then the rest of the diary is blank pages. I have found three or four diaries like that. I decided to use the remaining pages as my To Do List paper.

Anonymous said...

Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?

Stop by the blog some time. Mel(ody) and I have been having loads of adventures since that fateful trip to the Quatros Vientos.

John Ricci said...

Dear Michelle, this is a most charming view and post as always. My son claims to keep a diary but if he does I prefer him keep it private. Lovely you there with Hello Kittie and Tim Horton's between the bubbles. Whatever you write it is always wonderful. Bravo!

Laura said...

I got a book from the book store once entitled The Book of Myself. It's a do it yourself autobiography in 201 questions covering from childhood to old age. I've filled out the early years and most of the middle years section so far. I'm still too young to fill out the later years section though. I have never shown this book to anyone and No one will see it until after I'm dead. After that, my children can have it if they want to read it. Who knows, maybe they'll learn stuff about me that they never knew.

Anonymous said...

I am finding it harder to come to grips with how boring I am.

Michelle! Links!
Turn this:Jason's Mad Thoughts

Into this:Jason's Mad Thoughts

http://www.w3schools.com/html/html_links.asp

Anonymous said...

I like Pythia's comment about snakes coiled aroound the arm. Way back about 20 years ago i walked into a liquor store in my worse than not so great neighborhood and there was a fellow with a medium sized snake coiled around his arm, we, of course got to talking and he told me "it's better than a gun." We went outside and proved it when he called two kids of about thirteen over riding their bicycles, when one of them saw the snake he was off that bike and on the run away as fast as his legs could carry him away from that snake.

To dream, to me is to diary and to diary is something left behind for your kin after you are gone to the place of seperation. I never dream,not even as in having goals and i never diary. everything I write is for public consumption. Not because I am a wise man (wise ass maybe) or even one with the credibility to tell others a different spin on old ideas, but when after 6 months of reading at an open mic consistsing of slammers and hip hop spoken word artists, a young black woman came up to me and said "Mark, you have changed my entire perspective on white people." In that instance not only was i pleased that i had actually accomplished something in the mind of one person but that my perspective had changed as well. only it was not changed in a racial sense but rather in the sense that every voice has some credibility to it, some accomplish more than others but all have the right to speak.

It is the voice that is the snake, the twisting serpent like way we can use our words for good or ill. ("WE Must Take Away and Destroy Those Weapons of Mass Destruction"...the voice of a texan hahahaahaha)

Your dreams of snakes is your hearts many voices. why they are represented that way...well back to the couch, let me get my pad...

Pesonally when I wake up from sleep i groan and try to decide which of the 18 ex-broken bones is going to give me the most trouble today which is my hearts voice letting me know; do I take just the lap top with me on my daily adventure or the printer too. Some things like those hopefully plain donuts meant for dunking are made for immediate consumption.

peace

TWM

Anonymous said...

Now why'd you want to go and get that nice bra all wet Sweetie? Now you have to dry it out and all that. So much work. ;)

Er, was there an article associated with this photo? I didn't get that far. ;)

(Just teasing.)

Anonymous said...

perv

Anonymous said...

I would love to be a fly on the wall of your mind and be able to see all of the things you hide the most; even from yourself.