Thursday, July 24, 2014

See You At The Top

A psychiatrist once told me that we all have a princess suit over the top of a frog’s suit. The trouble is we have holes in our princess suit, and so we jerk and tug and pull on the princess suit trying to keep the frog hidden--of course thinking that the frog is real. The princess suit is flimsy and the more we pull, the more it tears, and so we carefully fold it over trying to hide our that frog that lurks beneath.

What we don’t know is that beneath the frog’s suit is a real princess.

I was reading Jeff Goin’s (Writer’s) blog where he talked about our two selves—the one we show the world--you know the one, where we try to conform, where we seek acceptance or approval, where we try to fit in, where we are seeking love in all the wrong places.

But beneath the princess suit, buried beneath the frog’s suit there lives a true princess.
So, how do we shed the suits and emerge our true selves?

We are a delicate lot, aren’t we, contorting ourselves to fit in? And what is fitting in anyway? Following the crowd? Going with current trends? Being afraid of losing love, or not having it in the first place? We’re afraid of the power structure—oh yes, they can reject us.

Writers know that if they do not follow protocol their queries will be ignored. If they don’t get past the gatekeepers their words are useless. The easiest answer is “No,” so say the agents, I know, I heard one say it at a Writer’s Conference.  Literary agencies and publishers hire a bunch of young students, English majors preferably, lock them in a room, throw in a pizza, and a stack of rejection slips (it’s easier now with emails), and thus begins the rejection process. Clear the stack. Many believe that nothing good will be found there anyway.

It is the same with resume writing. At my daughter’s place of business the administrator said to write the resume one way while a resume-writing seminar leader said to write it another. I have heard that a resume is a good way to get rejected, but then you don’t get through the door without one. Oh the irony of it all.

What to do? Go to your window. Stick your head out and yell “I’m a human being damit.” Remember Howard Beale? “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

What this means it to declare yourself to be whatever you want. If you follow the standard, you will be that--standard. Nobody defines you. If you are a writer say you are and get with it. I believe that perseverance and self-confidence pays off. I believe in believing. 

We can do it. See you at the top!

Noni Juice for sale. My Noni supply arrived Monday. The box looked as though the handlers played football with it. We laughed at that munched box phenomenon in Hawaii, and here it's the same. Nothing was damaged though, all is ready to be shipped to whomever takes the Noni challenge. 

Click for more info. 

Monday, July 14, 2014

Juxtaposition, Oregon/Hawaii

I sit at my window in front of the computer and watch as across the street--no dogs lined up--just a big fat bulldog getting a vigorous towel rubbing after a bath. He takes it graciously and waddles off after his mistress into the house.

Many dogs live in the houses on our street, but all are carefully controlled, in their yards, their houses, or on a leash. This is a well ordered neighborhood. A contrast from our days in Hawaii, where we saw no neighbors, no dogs getting a bath, and no dogs waiting to pee.

I’m thinking of Hawaii again as you can see, I’m ready to let go of the writing of it and move onto the next great thing, but the book is pounding on me with such tenacity you can probably hear the echo. 

I’m editing.

In Hawaii I wrote on my computer in front of a window as I am doing now. There were no houses across the street as we lived in the jungle, but in the mornings I would sit at my computer and look across the expanse of green island grass to the Tiki Room, our little auxiliary house that sat a good 200 yards from our main house. There I would watch the morning being born.

This week my Island book is titled, Off We Go.

Will I ever complete that book?


Will I ever settle on a title?

Probably not.

Will anyone buy it?

Like hotcakes.

Will they like it?

They will fall in a dead faint.

Birds' next fern in the tree beside the Tiki Room. In Oregon we would give our eye teeth for one so beautiful..

Inside of Tiki Room--beautiful paint by Daughter Dear. 

Our  "Green Trail of Bliss" aka driveway. 

 View from the Tiki Room toward the main house--with the propane mosquito killing device sitting between.

Where I am now.

Noni Juice for sale. I found it in Hawaii, they are shipping it straight from the farm to me.  This is probably the best on the market. And figuring that everybody likes something for free--me included, I am offering Free Shipping. Ta Da! Click on Noni fruit below.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Pigeon's Prevail

I opened #Oprah's magazine and stared at this page. The joyous girl with the pigeons totally entranced me. Then my eyes were riveted on the scene behind--St Marc's Square, Piazza San Marco Rome.

There are two reasons why St. Marc's Square so attracted my attention. First, long ago from Italy by slow post came an extra-large post card. The picture on the card was of a soldier dressed in uniform standing alone in St. Marc's Square, surrounded by pigeons. He was just standing there, looking toward the photographer, one hand held out, probably with food. 

The soldier was my father.

He was one of the lucky ones--sent to Italy during the Second World War, and not to Germany. He arrived home whole and healthy.

Second, I have stood in that square surrounded by pigeons. While my two daughters browsed shops situated around the square, my friend, Marilyn, and I sat at a small cafe overlooking the square. As we were drinking alternatively iced tea and champagne--which in Italy is accompanied by potato chips, a fellow sitting at the next table leaned over and asked, "Do Americans always drink champagne and iced tea in the afternoon?"

We laughed, "When in Rome we do."

After I had devoured the above picture, scrounged around in my past, I considered the title, "Live Your Best Life."

I am sure that's what we are doing here--visiting this page, investigating the elusive art of living—that is trying to Live our best life.

The pigeons seem to have mastered the good life for them, they go to a place where they are fed and appreciated, and look at the fun they were giving the photographer in Oprah's Magazine's page. They have enlivened her day, and as Henry David Thoreau said,  "To change the quality of the day is the highest of the arts."  I believe the pigeons are onto something.

Thank you for reading.

Live your Best life,