One summer in between college semesters, I lived with a family as their nanny, and they had horses. Every day, we went to the barn to take care of them and ride. My favorite thing to do was take them out into the cotton fields and race-- what an exhilarating experience! The fresh, earthy smell of the plants, the warm sun and the breeze on your face as you galloped down row after row... The horses would feel it too, and kick up their heels sometimes and make you laugh out loud just for the joy of it. It was one of those magic summers. You never know when those times are happening that they are some of the best in your life- you don't realize that until it's over, and you can't go back. I think age has something to do with it-- you're so immortal in those times. So unfettered. You're as young and green as the spring grass.
But all things have their season. Cotton blooms and falls, grass fades, and the sun sets on all things. What makes those moments so magical though, is that it seems to freeze in your memory, like a still shot from the movie of your life. It's a place you can return to time and again, for rest, for an escape, for whatever reason you need.
It's such a small thing really- just a memory. Just a few words on a piece of paper. Yet, the uttering of them, brings the image into vivid life, and sends me reeling through cotton fields once more.
The mind is a beautiful thing, isn't it?
Have a good weekend, everybody.
As a side note, my neighbor did not, in fact, just have a litter of puppies. Her dog did.
Okay... here's the thing. I wrote this little scene out, and however I tried it, I couldn't get rid of a few curse words. It just totally lost effect, and I guess that's a point of weakness in my writing (that I can't find some other appropriate word to express a moment). Hopefully, I'll get better at that. Anyway, to avoid upsetting my mom, and the members of my church, and my sweet old grandma, and the kindergarten class who reads this, and the adorable litter of puppies that my neighbor just had, I am putting it in the extended version, so you'll have to click the link down at the bottom to read it.
Sorry for my potty mouth, everybody.
"You did this to me on purpose, didn't you? I was just an experiment to you. I was so blind!" She shook her head in disbelief. "But I see it now. You just wanted to make somebody love you using pretty words- to prove some idiotic theory in a pretentious literary class, and I was the sucker who fell for it. Well, you succeeded. Here I am, loving you, for crying out loud- and all along, I was just some writer's wet dream!"
"It's not like that, Cecile."
"Go to hell. I don't believe anything you say anymore."
She picked up the empty wine glass and hurled it into the wall, sending shards glittering into the air. "You used me," her voice shook with rage, "You didn't love me at all, you only loved yourself, and the power you have with words. It's sick."
She held up the papers as her proof, and she stared at him waiting for his explanation.
"Cil..."
"You know what, don't even try. Because no matter what you say, I'll never believe it's not part of your fucking dissertation."
"I wanted to tell you, sweetheart, I really did. It started out that way, but you have to believe-"
"Save it. I'm not interested in your lies, as talented and academic as they may be." She threw the now crumpled papers at his chest, and stared into the face she had loved and trusted over the past year.
The slamming door echoed in his ears. As he reached down to gather the fallen papers, a thought suddenly occurred to him, and he ran to the window. "Wait!" he yelled down into the street, "You have to read the end!"
She looked up at him, and shook her head sadly. "What difference does it make," she said, "when the beginning was all a lie?" She turned away, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him for once in his life, speechless.
"No tree or plant can grow in daylight alone. Given only light, a seed will not germinate, roots will not take hold. It takes a balance of sunlight and shadow. Men, too, grow their deepest roots in the darkness."
David Farland, "Lair of Bones"
And now, for something a little different...
I am learning that there is more to me.
The social grace
The smiling face
The endless pace
I am learning that there is more to see.
The shades of blue
The shine of new
The morning's dew
I am learning that there is less to flee.
The fading grass
The rocky pass
The mirrored glass
I am learning that there is more to be.
The lone rider
The last fighter
The meek writer
************
You know, there are times that I am resistant to putting certain things in words, and then putting them on this blog for everyone to read. In a way, it's like showing the worst parts of yourself to the whole world, and holding your breath to see what happens. I realize there are many talented people who can write far better than me, and I certainly hope that by posting these kinds of things, people don't think I have a misconception about myself. The truth is, half the time, I don't even really know who I am or what I think of myself, so I can't imagine what others think of me. Though this is a public forum, it still remains a very personal quest. Each day I write something, even just the littlest thing, seems like a step forward to me. It gets me closer to understanding why - why I'm here, why I am the way I am, why life is the way it is. I'm hoping that by being honest, and this includes being honestly an idiot sometimes, that someone else will see that it's okay to take chances. It's okay that we don't always know who and what we are, even at points in our life when others think we should already know those things. It's okay to show your weaknesses and vulnerabilities, in an effort to change and grow and be better.
So, I plunge ahead, dragging you with me, hoping that at the end, we'll both be glad we stuck to the path.
The Non-Violent Intervention Seminar I attended yesterday was all that I had expected, and more. It was eight hours of corporate fun and games, let me tell you. Workbooks to fill out during the lectures, and activities designed to keep you from daydreaming. My favorite part was this: they won't even say the word "violent". If a person comes into your workplace in that manner, it's called Acting Out. No joke. They are referred to as the Acting Out Person.
I love it.
Anyway, here's one of my doodles during the class, I got so tickled from this that I started snickering and the teacher wanted to throw a stapler at me, but he really couldn't, because of the whole non-violence thing. Plus, he knew I was just acting out.
Anyway, this is the part of the booklet where they show you restraining techniques. These two lovely computer generated folks are escorting this man to Security. I wish you could see the expressions on the faces, it makes it a lot funnier.
Okay, that's all for today. I swear to write more next week. Honest.
If somebody is talking too much, or saying something you really don't want to hear, I think it's absolutely hilarious to say to them, "Hush, Puppy!" There's really not much they can say to that. Try it. You'll see.
And now back to our regularly scheduled blogging.
Warning: Grumble Ahead
On Thursday, I have to attend a mandatory Non-Violent Intervention seminar, all day. For eight hours. I'm seriously afraid it might kill me. People do die of boredom, you know. Did they stop to consider that? No.
At the very minimum, I'm probably going to sustain some minor brain damage from the occasion. That's not Non-Violent, people.
*sigh* At least I get paid. And maybe I'll learn how not to punch people in the face when they force me to go to stupid seminars. Maybe.
I like, no, make that LOVE, cheerleader competitions.
I am always impressed with the snappy little routines- the precise choreography of each flip, twist, jump, catch... I like the fun music, too. I sheepishly admit that I've seen "Bring It On" about fifty thousand times (it just keeps coming on the tv, and I can't turn it!!).
I also like Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen movies. And Hilary Duff songs. And that girl from Freaky Friday, she is "kewl".
This worries me.
I mean, it's like, so totally freaking me out, ya know?
Oh dear. I seem to be a little time-deficient lately. Not good. How to remedy? Maybe I could start trimming my language. Speak only in short, concise phrases.
So, I could write like this.
Ate breakfast. Washed the clothes. Went to the gym.
Or even more efficient, I could do without subjects at all!
Ate. Washed. Went.
Nice! I've already saved a good ten minutes.
*sigh* Ten extra minutes to do laundry. And there was much rejoicing.
Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. Doesn't it seem wrong to eat something so sinful on Easter Sunday? I think God would understand, though.
an abundance of caffiene. After washing down the pizza and cookies with countless soft drinks, the girls zoomed off with artificially flavored energy into the other room.
"I dare you!!" said one girl to the other, in barely contained giggles.
"Oh that's so gross!," responded her counterpart. "I mean, come on, he's so old!"
"Well, if you don't, I'm going to tell Stephen Clarkson what you said about him in English class!" The threat sent the girl into shrieks of outrage, and finally, she conceded to the dare.
"Fine. Well, you have to go with me, and I swear, if you ever tell anybody, I'll kill you!"
The girls quietly crept into the den, where the unsuspecting victim was loudly snoring in a teale recliner. As the clock on the mantel loudly ticked the minutes away, the girl steeled her courage.
In a sudden instant, she darted through the room, and hurdled an ottoman and a sleeping dog to land just an inch from the face of a sleeping, slightly older teenage boy. Now, startled awake, the dog began some good natured barking, and the sound was followed by peals of girlish laughter from across the room. As chaos erupted, the boy snapped up in the chair, and inadventently clicked on the remote control for the television, which blared into life at full volume. The voice of narrator of a nature show boomed into the room to join the fray. The baffled boy was further stupefied when the girl leaned over and kissed his cheek quickly, and bounded backwards into the endtable. Her motions upset the already wobbly table, sending books and magazines into the air. In a feat of gymnastic ability only available to the young, she managed to avoid stepping on the furry dog who was now viciously ripping up a fallen magazine, but wasn't so lucky with the forgotten ottoman. She fell with the gangly grace of long limbs and coltish humor, and finally secured her escape from the tangled mess.
The two girls raced from the room, laughing and stumbling, until they collapsed onto the bed.
"That was so embaressing!" said the perpetrator of the crime, blushing but smiling. My first kiss, she thought silently to herself. Not too bad.
"Now it's your turn. You're gonna pay for that one!"
The sound of laughter echoed down the hall, as the boy settled back into his chair, gazing at the television. "Girls," he said, as he watched the nature program, where little gray squirrels scrambled here and there in constant motion. "Wonder what makes them so... squirrely?"
"Maybe they're just nutty," he said, chuckling in satisfaction at his joke.
The end.
And the moral of the story... Be corny without apology sometimes. It's fun.
Happy Monday everybody! Reader Appreciation Week is officially over!
Since I am a local expert on the subject, having lived in La for 3 years now - (tongue in cheek, people) I have plenty to say on the matter. Actually, I have spent a lot of my married life visiting La, and being married to one of it's finest citizens, I do feel a certain level of attachment. It's hard not to love Louisiana, whether it's the north or the south. Louisiana is like Mississippi's older, wilder cousin- you know the one, they always talk you into doing stuff you know you probably wouldn't normally do, and they drink beer.
Louisiana is one of the most unique states to live in. For one, there's the whole "I used to belong to France" thing. The Napoleonic Code, the stubborn use of parishes, and not to mention creoles, crawfish, Catholics, and N'awlins. Every crack and crevice of Louisiana, both north and south, is crammed full of culture and spice. Even those quiet little towns tucked away in some forgottten corner boast a local festival or site that people faithfully come from all over to visit.
Arrowheads in cottonfields, cypress trees and alligators, jambalaya and blues, Louisiana has a rich bouquet of things to love. It doesn't matter where in Louisiana you are, we all have a claim to this wonderful place. The only difference, to me, between the north and the south, is the compass arrow.
**As a side note, I am now the official representative of the Louisiana Tourism Board. I sound like a travel brochure in this post!! But, it's all from the heart. Now, if I can just find some glossy pictures to put up...**
If you want to read the first part, go here. (That was the first draft, it's changed a little since then)
And now, an exerpt from the next chapter, again, just a draft.
I moved into a cramped apartment on the west side, and settled into the pace of city living. I took long walks, absorbing the activity. I immersed myself in the early morning bustle, the sounds of sirens and people calling for taxis, the smells of hotdog vendors and exhaust fumes, the bright neon lights flashing
at night. I took my camera with me everywhere, and I experienced life through my lense. I was the woman with her red-headed baby bouncing on her shoulders in the park. I was the seventy year old man jogging around the lake with his dog. I was the homeless guy in an army jacket with his cardboard sign that said, "Waking up from the nightmare, please help". I was everybody, every day.
I then spent hours in my darkroom, developing the moments I'd captured on film. I wasn't interested in making friends, and I went largely unnoticed by anyone except the boy who delivered Chinese food. And yet, I was happy for the first time in my life. I was filling a space in this world with my photography. I was part of the mechanism, a silent, but active participant in the perpetual grind. I began freelancing for papers and magazines, and found enough work to pay my rent and upgrade my equiptment occasionally.
I regularly took assignments that sent me out of town, and it was one of these occasions that turned my world upside down.
To my utter shock, I had found the orchard.
Name a single cantidate for the upcoming presidential elections. Is it me or are these guys a giant collective snooze?
That was Patrick's submission for a blog topic. And I have to admit, we share the same sentiments on the issue. It is shameful to confess, but I haven't done a bit of research on any of the candidates and I could really care less about them. Now, when it comes time to vote, I'll do a mad dash to find out who's the guy for me, but basically, I don't get into it. Some people, like my cousin Joey, are amazingly up to date on all the politicians. He spends a lot of time reading and keeping up with their positions, etc. I just can't get into it.
Though the fate of the free world rests in their hands, they bore me. Maybe it's a ploy. Maybe they try to numb our minds with their ceaseless droning so we don't notice what they are really doing or not doing. Hm. That's an interesting theory.
Anyway, that's the topic I was dealt, and so I came clean and made my confession. I, Shannon Trisler, am politically inept.
Now, come on people, confession time. Tell us your darkest and deepest!!
Hello all! Boy is it nice to be home on a Monday morning! For the last month, I've had to leave the house at 6:25 a.m. every day, which I have not done routinely in about four years. Now I am officially finished with training for my new job, and I start my regular hours of 3-11p. I'm excited! On a side note, I now have massive sympathy for you guys that have those early morning jobs that drag you out of bed before the light of day. Ugh.
Anyway, I just wanted to pop my head in the door and let everybody know that life is returning to normal. Thank goodness. This month has almost made me crazy! I should be blogging on a regular basis again, and hopefully I'll finish up the topics that were submitted this week. I've really enjoyed that, by the way. It's a great way to stir those juices up a little, if anybody else wants to try it!
Okay, I'm off to do some laundry and whatnot. Have a great day!!