Can you miss what you never even had? I think you can. The thing might be that we can only miss what we never had. Or, maybe we can only miss what we can imagine we never had.
I just discovered that my piano and French teacher died. They called her Little Deer; I never met her, because these lessons were only a plan of mine. A plan to take piano lessons and French lessons. I have taken some of them, of both of them, before, but I always planned to get back to them; like a book I left a marker in, with a promise to return. She died. Several years ago, in fact. And now I don't know what to do with the little advertisement I had cut out, with her smiling face, from the local magazine. This seems like nothing, I know; and it isn't much, is it? Especially, in a year marked by so many losses. The death of a plan, the death of a relationship you imagined, a studying you were going to undertake, it seems like nothing, almost.
(Gallies, perhaps?) Yes, beginning a sentence with parentheses is something you can do here! Isn't it marvelous? There is so much we can do, if we go ahead and do it. You feel, I bet, like there isn't much to do right now, but I saw something the other day that really crystalized this spacious opportunity for me- But, that's not what I wanted to write to you about just yet.
I am writing you today to talk turkey about Miss Fisher and her Murder Mysteries. You may think that you don't want to watch any more screens, and I hear you, that's valid, that's good. That's noble and pure and dignified of you, too. And if you find yourself with some time that you don't want to be noble and pure and dignified, maybe you will remember to check these stories out.
Miss Fisher is every girl-child feminist's dream of a female character: she has power, money, prestige, and compassion and empathy. She holds to principles that go beyond the law and religion, and she is sympathetic to everyone's plight. She also gets to try everything (racing cars! adopting young ladies in need! piloting a plane! joining the circus!) and she garners the esteem of everyone she encounters. She also maintains enough humility and vulnerability to prevent her from slip sliding into some awful kind of super hero archetype. She is a flawed character; like you, like me.
I love her; she is the answer to James Bond, for me, and I hope you will take a look at her and her adventures sometime!
Oh, but wait! I intended to talk to you about the place we are in, the times we are having; about the opportunities for you to tell us all what you think and what you want and what you believe.
In the old days, there were things called galleries, I know, they are like covered wagons; no one uses them anymore, so don't worry about what they were; quaint little rooms and buildings where people sold art to pay the rent. It sounds nice, doesn't it? To show your artwork in a place that would sell it for you? Thinking on it now, it sounds absurdly romantic, and totally impossible- like winning the lottery: too good to have actually been true! Well, now you don't need that gatekeeping system- you can put your work in front of anyone using the internet. You are saying, "well, sort of..., what about selling things?" To that I say to hell with selling things- nothing good ever came of putting a price on creativity anyway. "And what about all these viewers? What about getting my work in front of millions?" To that I say, don't be greedy- if two people see it, that is plenty!
What I have here is glorious and irrefutable proof of just how broad and big the available exhibition space is on the internet:
Well now! Is it art? Is it good? It surely is spectacle, and I don't think I care much about the other two
appellations. I care more about the impulse to decorate, to make, and the invitation to all of us to view it, and to perhaps be impelled to respond in some way.
I made some for you today, and they are pretty nifty: Neapolitan Sugar Cookies; but, look at this amazingness! These mushrooms are so delightful! Check out also the cacti cookies on the Arlos Cookies website.
Well, here we are, here I am, on the 1000th day of roller skating. Let's do a little roller dance to celebrate, shall we?
In 12 years and a thousand consecutive days of skating, I have only convinced maybe 15 people to try it, and made converts out of 6 or so. It's slow work, exhorting y'all to have some fun. But, I blame myself; if I was more persuasive, if I asked you more often, if I didn't lose confidence in my conviction.
Think about it, and I will ask you again, a hundred days from now.
PS
Think about this, too: Maybe you wonder what kind of people would like roller skating? Here is a short, but by no means complete list!
People who like wheels, people who like shoes, people who like ice skating, people who like excitement, who like yoga, skiing, riding a bike, skateboarding, riding a scooter. People who like to wear socks, people who like trying new things, people who like trying old things; who like to dance, to jump rope, to unicycle. People who like stilts! People who like cats, dogs, horses; people who collect stamps. People who like to dive, to fly, to walk, and to listen to music will all like roller skating!
On Tuesdays, my favorite DJ is on- she plays the dream sets. Last week she played this, your song of the day! I had never heard this fabulous version. I love this anthem! It's a very fine song for you to sing on the way to your car at the end of your work day! Don't worry, it's a parking lot- it's fine to sing there!
