THE PERSON I WAS GOING TO BE

I was thinking about the differences between the person that I am, and the person that I always want to be. Every morning, I think about how I want to be - and every day around 10 a.m., I'm disgusted with myself for not being that person.

I realized something a little while ago, though. I realized (amazing that it took so long, as it really is so simple that it should've been obvious) that I'm much too hard on myself, and rather short-sighted. Or maybe, actually, too long-sighted would be more accurate. Sometimes, I AM the person I want to be. It just never occurred to me before that it was a moment-to-moment thing. It always seemed to me, for instance, that Martha Stewart was ALWAYS Martha Stewart - she never had to open her door to a drop-in guest and find herself without freshly-folded linen napkins scented with lavender, and there were always just-picked rose petals scattered across her pillows at any given moment.

I realized that was completely ridiculous. Martha Stewart most certainly is not ALWAYS Martha Stewart - perhaps mostly she is, and always when given enough notice that you're coming to visit, she is; but she has times when she's not the person she wants to be.

Now, this might be a pretty rudimentary observation but the implications it had on the success I attribute to myself was huge. I really didn't give myself much credit. It was like I was doing okay, but then I lost all my past okay-ness with each failure. As if you either ARE or you ARE NOT successful in being who you want to be, instead of SOMETIMES you are, and SOMETIMES you're not. When I felt successful - I felt damn near omnipotent, as if I were always successful, all my life. When I ran out of toilet paper or snapped at someone or felt some really 'juvenile' sense of disappointment - I'd feel like my entire life I'd been unsuccessful at being who I want to be.

The real bitch of it is that the Person I Want To Be is a script being constantly re-written. New, Improved Versions get handed to my Consciousness daily, delivered by 8:00 a.m. before I've had too much time to do much damage. Then, I'd feel like I had NO CLUE who I was, or who I wanted to be. What, I'm closing in on the 50th year and I still don't know who I want to be?

Well, that was ridiculous too. Ok, so at least I've got this part all figured out - for the FIRST 48.8 years of my life, I was ridiculous. For the rest of my life, I'm going to just consider myself a success or failure at being the person I want to be, on a moment-by-moment basis.

Turned-phrase treasures

I think most people who mainly process through the creative/abstract hemisphere are hyper-sensitive to minute details of every 'Big Picture'. We notice all the little stuff. I'm particularly drawn to poignant, little word-groups which are often such precious and beautiful bits of art onto themselves.

Two of my current favorite wordsmiths are both musicians: John Mayer and Jack Johnson. Mayer is just a genius at turning a phrase ("Slow-dancing in a burning room..."?! Breath-taking!) and Johnson has an utterly amazing talent for phrase-turning, combined with such incredible syllable syncopation that you have to hear it to fully appreciate.

Some more jewels from Mayer:

"...I survive on the breath you are finished with."

"...in the kind of morning that lasts all afternoon."

"I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for."

"I can barely survive a night in my mind..."

" Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hand? "
Just a few gorgeous little trinkets from Jack:

"You don't always have to hold your head higher than your heart."

"...That somebody else needed something so bad,
That they took everything that somebody had."

"Seems to me that 'maybe' pretty much always means 'no'."

The Mathematics of Individual Taste

I am a '3' person. I think you're either a '3' or a '2', odd or even, rows or groups. I don't know why this is, and I don't even know if it's true – it's just what I think.

2's have rows of red geraniums evenly spaced, growing along the front of their house, in a straight and orderly line. If they're a brave sort of 2, they might mix two colors – in perfect symmetry. 3's drive by these houses and think – well, think nothing. They don't find anything to notice in the first place.

3's don't plant geraniums, don't want anything evenly spaced or in a line, and the front of their house undulates with beds and bushes and collections of flowers in assorted colors. 2's drive by these houses and think "what a mess!"

2's always hang their wall art way too high on the wall – WHY IS THAT?! 3's have piles of books and framed prints on the floor, leaning against the wall, and hang scarves from the curtain rod and fill bowls with weird little collections of stuff. 2's push the kitchen chairs all the way in against the table. 3's leave them askew, because it just feels better that way.

2's wonder about things like "Is it okay to put a brown duvet folded on the bed in a green & white bedroom?" 3's only wonder if there's any kind of medication for 2-ism. 3's buy things they like because they like them. 2's buy things they might not like, but it will match the tile in the bathroom.

2's want things to be correct, or right, which means there's a list of rules they have to follow and breaking the rules is just not something a 2 wants to do. Both are trying to satisfy something on an emotional level, but in very different ways. What a 2 finds 'right', a 3 often finds unappealing. Whatever it IS that causes a 2 to be drawn to the things they're drawn to – is the SAME thing that causes a 3 to abhor them.

It 'bothers' me to see geraniums planted in a row. It doesn't FEEL right, or good or comfortable. It feels like entrapment, it feels like a wall or a fence, it inhibits my senses to look at them. It causes me a kind of sympathy towards the person who planted them – not that I believe they lack creativity inside their brain, but that they lack SOMETHING that would enable them to value that creativity, to trust it, to ENJOY it, to cut themselves from the wall-tether and get out there and RUN.

Still, I'm full of crap, because while I might be a 3 – I'm not a 7. 7's are, in my senses, unrefined, and in it solely for the gasps they cause. True rebels are perhaps more interested in making noise than grouping things. They WANT to be out there – I don't really. I just don't want to be inside – I want to be outside, but only if I can still GET inside if I need to. Sort of like the cat. I'm not a true rebel.

62 Days Late and Just Beginning

I'd vowed to myself that I'd begin this blogging project when 2008 was fresh out of the starting gate, and I just can't put it off any longer. There's always something that can stand as a catalyst for another New Beginning - I may have missed the mark on the new year, so instead I'll use yesterday's latest catch to act as the next best reason to start something new. There's nothing like a fistfull of succulent, juicy stones to kick my brain from one hemisphere to the other - the side that can balance a checkbook is now officially closed, leaving the creative side to run with the scissors with wild abandonment.

You'll have to use a little creative juice of your own to enhance the colors on these fruits - it was either just hold off until my photographer could do them justice, or just scan & upload for the more instant-type gratification. I went with the more Buddist approach - Now is all we have. Yummy stuff, these ... I'm thinking the prenite with some aquamarine, some peridot with aquamarine, maybe some aquamarine with the iolite ...greens and blues have taken the front running position, I'd say?

Stay tuned and I'll put up whatever comes of this latest batch, snagged at the InterGem Show in Southfield, MI - still going on today, if you've a mind to do some of your own hunting.