A Humble Abode

             

If you think of “Halloween destinations”, Paris should top the list. Yes, the lovely city of lights has a creepy past.

Around the 10th century, when Paris’s population was on the increase and cemetery space became scarce, a decision was made to bury the less wealthy in mass graves. Maybe it was due to the Parisians untenable burial practices that there was a lack of ideas for disposing of the dead exhumed from the city’s intra-muros parish graveyard. Seven hundred years later, bones were exhumed and transported to old abandoned quarry sites. The Catacombs (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bElIDgAFaiM&feature=related) was one such site, where skulls and bones were deposited and later on arranged onto a bizarre wall.

The Catacombs are open to the public, and run beneath the city’s 14th arrondissement — at least that is what is open to official tours. When I first saw them as a student in 1980, it was months before Halloween. After descending down narrow, spiraling stone stairs and cold curving corridors, there they were. Prior to that my trip had been more intellectual than sensory– but the image reminded me that I am human and alive and sent a tingle up my ingenue spine, but it didn’t deter me. They captured my imagination and as a traveler because I didn’t know when I’d be back, being in the presence of a vast piles of bones and wanting to stay awhile I convinced myself that they looked like decorative Art. I don’t think I would have gone any further, not at least without an amulet; perhaps a necklace strung from raw garlic. 

What about you? Have you ever done something wild or wicked in an innocent act of horror where you surprised yourself?  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVjd5w2iRAg&feature=related

Love Color

Originally I started this blog with my travels in mind, there are so many places I've gone that I still haven't covered. Then I switched it up a bit, and included my thoughts about life, current events, my adventures, love of fashion, books, music and the cinema. I never included much on food, cooking, or restaurants, because they don't interest me, much. Although I still remember three years ago going to L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon for my birthday, known as one of France's best chefs, where the cost of our dinners combined could have fed an entire African village for a month; I was more interested in “the luxurious experience” vs. the meal. 

Once I wrote about jewelry. I like bold and delicate, ethnic and estate pieces but today's looks of wearing more crystals and sparkle than the average diamond mine, isn't me. Then I began to focus and blog on writing but today I'm taking a departure and am going to write about another favorite topic, one that I haven't discussed and that is... beauty. I get hyped being inside Sephora http://sephora.com/ it's a girls candy store! 

I love color so much, and have a fetish for lipsticks and nail polish. Although I would never paint my nails green, blue or purple and black isn't my style, I break the rule once a year when I dress up as a witch and give out Halloween candy. Years ago, before self-tanners were as good as they are now, I read that brewing tea bags and placing them on my legs could prolong a tan. I applied that principle to my hair and found a brunette tip that's worth sharing. I'm hoping it will cause less fading and prolong color. Brew a small pot of coffee or espresso (depending on your shade) allow it to cool and pour into a spray bottle. After you shampoo and condition, spray your roots and throughout your hair, letting it sit for 10-15 minutes. Follow with a quick cold rinse to close the pores. The procedure will boost and enhance your color adding richness.

Tropic Thunder

Even though it's assumed I've read all of the classics, I haven't. I've spent the last few weeks reading Herman Melville's Moby Dick. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moby-Dick 

As a child I read Treasure Island and enjoyed adventure stories but as an adult I didn't think I'd like Moby Dick. Without a female lead, or romance, I can lose interest so I put it off. Not so in this case. The voice of Ishmael, the novel's narrator caught me by surprise. He sounded like a friend, a beloved soul mate and adviser. Not only is he funny, wise and bighearted, but he is the consummate survivor, for he alone lives to tell about Ahab's encounter with the great whale. Moby Dick is not only a great classic, it's a metaphysical survival manual. Published at this time of year, 160 years ago, it's a guidebook for us now facing an impenetrable unknown; the future of civilization in this storm-tossed twenty-first century, with all the conflicts and ideals of America.

After hearing of Turkey's earthquake and thinking how can we help them when we haven't helped ourselves? I ran across Ishmael's advise, “Doubts of all things earthly, and intuitions of some things heavenly; this combination makes neither believer nor infidel, but makes a man who regards them both with equal eye.”

And Many More

Yesterday was my birthday and after coming home from a small celebration dinner there was a choice of watching either Modern Family or Dick Van Dyke. I choose the latter knowing I would get more laughs from old-fashioned smart comedy writing versus current day writing of sexual overtones. I think it's a cheap trick for writers to rely on the mundane aspects of life and it takes real talent to use your wits.

I find it ironic how a few new ABC series are set in the 1960's and have visual appeal replicating Mad Men, but they combine current day writing tactics done by those born twenty years later who don't rely on imagination.

I’ve written about my like for Laura Petrie as the character on The Dick Van Dyke Show once before so I’ll spare you since I could go on and on. I’ll end with what may be my all-time favorite scene from the series. Rob and Laura are at their neighbors’ house for dinner and they are acting bizarre. Unbeknownst to Millie and Jerry, their kids had set up walkie-talkies in the two houses and Rob and Laura accidentally overheard Millie and Jerry saying some not-very-nice things about the Petries before the party. Here’s the result:

Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore are clever indeed. And so is Carl Reiner, Rose Marie, Morey Amsterdam, Richard Deacon, Ann Morgan Guilbert, and everyone else connected with this show. Starting this month, to honor the 50^th anniversary, the show is back on TV Land. Hip, hip, hooray!

Dick and Jane

A couple of weeks ago I advocated that saying yes to life we open the door to possibilities.

Today my day was filled with mechanical things, writing this blog post came as a creative thought and by writing it, I am following through on my own advise. Hooray.

I’ll admit, though, that it’s a steep challenge to shut out the follow-up thoughts, such as: Who cares? Why are you writing about the challenge of writing when you could be working on some other more concrete (not to mention commercial) idea you’ve had cluttering your brain for years, which people would probably enjoy more? Of course, then you’d have to decide which of the other possibilities to execute first. The one most likely to sell? Or the one you’re burning to write? You are aiming low by writing a blog post– because, come to think of it, no one reads your blog.

I realize it is possibly a waste for me to display those secondary thoughts for you here. Maybe you can relate.

Some of my best ideas, the ones I’ve followed through on in my life, have come to me while walking by myself, whether on a quiet hiking path or a bustling, noisy, narrow city street. One time, when I was jogging through the Rose Bowl, I felt compelled to call my answering machine and borrowed a jogger's cell phone, so I could record a story idea that came up. I got home, and wrote it as an essay. I trust my instincts. But I have confidence in my ideas and when they start to percolate, and every time I went with them, it paid off.

When I hit a certain plateau in my writing, people around me, expecting more started asking, “When are you going to publish your own book already?” Already. What an awful, disappointment-saturated word – one I’d already sent knocking around my brain on my own. Not that those people deserve any blame for what's happened in my life or in the publishing landscape. I am not blaming them – they say those things with the best of intentions, to be encouraging. The implied message is, “When do I get to read your book? I can’t wait! I know it will be good!” As a perfectionist, it was an expectation I had of myself, but I took so long to do it, because of my fear of taking a chance unless I was guaranteed a positive outcome, and that's what made me hear their encouragement all wrong. It's why I can now perpetuate this message to my students –don't let your inner critic keep you from conceiving and then aborting what are probably decent ideas. What are you waiting for? Live and write now!

Poetry an echo

It’s truly heartwarming to see the Literature prize go to Tomas Tranströmer. One can see how the Swedish Academy might have resisted giving the prize to a local boy out of some sense of propriety, so it’s great to see that sense of propriety gave way to a more proper sense of the proprietary. 

Although many Americans haven't heard of Tranströmer, Sweden should be proud to honor a poet who has meant so much throughout the world, and who confirms the notion held that poetry can take on the exterior world and can be politically charged. From what I've read a wide public has embraced a poet who does not necessarily tell the nation what it thinks it wants to hear. For many of us poetry with its use of everyday subjects and images is an examination of the interior-world , a view into the unconscious with a syncopation of rhythms and simplicity of diction. American poet Carl Sandburg said, “Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.” If that means anything to anyone, there’ll be dancing in the streets of Stockholm tonight.

Prima Donna

This morning I heard that October 5 is the most common of birthdays. It made me feel warm and fuzzy since it would have been my maternal Grandmother's 108th birthday. She brought opera and books to my attention and was known for her skills as a raconteur, a Spanish-speaking Scheherazade. But we shared other similarities besides music, reading and writing.  My birthday follows hers by two weeks and as Libras we both have a deep love of spirituality and quest for the unknown, insight into the psychology of human desire, are slightly eccentric, revere nature, have a need for beauty and harmony in our environment, ( or we can't function) were/are sociable creatures, can work long hours (independently) and dislike being told what to do. The list goes on. Naming our attributes made me think we shared obsessions and were/are smitten with books and with writing.

In the novel, Old School by Tobias Wolff, the narrator in particular is obsessed. The narrator sees writing as a passport out of what he sees as the mediocrity that he's been born into. He knows he can't belong to the class that the people around him belong to, so writing is a way of transcending class altogether. This adds fire to his obsession.

I have noticed in my writing life I experience frustration when other things take me away from my writing. A ringing telephone, loud noises, lunch, a trip to the bank or post office is an interruption that leaves me ansy to return to my desk. My dream world is filled with revisions and edits over material I've written for the day.

Has writing become an obsession for you? Is writing the only thing you can think about? Do you continually dissect dialogue when having a conversation with family, friends, or co- workers? Do you use daily events to churn into a story? Do you think about sentence structure, punctuation, and grammar before speaking during a conversation? Does a new idea for a story take over your thought processes once it has been planted there?

As I see it, obsessing over writing is a blessing.  It's a gift to use. Passion produces obsession if you let writing guide you and take over. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFypui1xKlk

Work and Play

About half a year ago I realized that many of the vocations that I have been involved in have vanished. Something I'd expect if I were 60, 70 or 80. It was a strange revelation on three counts; first because I have another thirty years ahead of me to work, second because these vocations were positions important to the American ideal, future and economy, and last, because it is sign that times are rapidly changing giving rise to unpredictability.

Two weeks after my last day in high school and for the next year of my life I was a directory assistance operator, a job that later folded when Ma Bell went from being a monopoly to becoming divested. I then went onto college and worked part-time teaching remedial reading to inner city school kids. Four years later, I leaped into public affairs with another public utility company. Public affairs was thriving in the image-conscious Reagan years, however later the department dismantled because of budget cuts. Then came my moment in television as a soap opera decorator, with The Guiding Light and All My Children's recent cancellation—it’s clear that soap operas are remnants from a television past when the three networks ruled the airwaves and advertisers could expect huge non-fast-forwarding audiences for their endless commercials. Then I had a stint as a CD ROM producer, but technology went to DVD, and put an end to that dinosaur. I switched to reporting for a newspaper, and with the advent of the Internet, we now know that newspapers will never resurrect; even the New York Times has gone from being hefty to tabloid thin. In fact, it seems all of the fore-mentioned vocations will never come back to life. And although I loved change and sought it out, I wish I would have not taken “work” so seriously, and enjoyed more of the ride.

So good-bye to phones, public affairs, the sound stages, the editing booth, the newspaper room, and all the rest of the relics of these disappearing vocations. I miss the diversity and ease of transitions I had and think about the people I met along the way– and doesn't it always come down to that equation– that we are here to connect to others. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQsooCyjcv4