Category: Blog (Page 88 of 101)

News of The 70273 Project with a side of Jeanne’s Barefoot Heart

the shelf life of ink, day 14

October 18, 2010 / jeanne / 6 Comments

outside of checks
and thank you notes,
and invitations to the annual class reunion,
my mother doesn’t write.

she collects quotes
written by others,
though if she ponders
why they appeal
or how they apply
to her own life and self,
i don’t know about it.

i, on the other hand,
write.
some days more copiously
than others.
take today, for instance,
where my journal bleeds red
to match my heart.

the same journal that once was
little more than an
accounting of how i spent my time
each day.
now bears witness
as i write what i would love to read.
my honesty
and deepest thoughts and feelings
inked out on the page,
my journal the only one i trust
to receive and contain.

then i read an admonition from phyllis theroux
warning journal keepers to
keep in mind that children
might read one day’s entry as
the undying truth
without considering the context.
and i feel the weighty responsibility.

mark twain’s new 3-volume autobiography,
is about to be released
some 100 years after his death.
why so long?
he wanted the freedom to
speak his truth
without fear of
his words harming his loved ones
or driving wedges all around.

and so i can’t help but wonder
if i shouldn’t take the safe
road again
and go back to chronicling my comings and goings.
do i really want to risk saddling
my children
with discovering the essential me
through my words that accumulate
as i discover
the essential me?
i want them to understand me,
sure.
to at least see me as a complex –
perhaps even complicated –
woman of layers,
but what if i’m eternally
misunderstood and despised instead?

what if they never visit my grave
to change out the flowers?

maybe i should just amass a
collection of quotes
instead
and let my chiclets
assign meaning and likeness
as they will.

friendships, day 13

October 17, 2010 / jeanne / 2 Comments

mother’s friendship roll is long and full. she has friends from work, friends from starbucks, friends from church, friends she grew up with. mother is always socializing with this friend or that friend. sending cards. going to lunch. making quick check-in phone calls.

me? well, i always said that my children made me the best friends – and in many ways they still do. historically, my friends were mothers of my children’s friends. now my friendship roll is populated with women i’ve met through my involvement with the theatre company my daughter started 5 years ago. many of the people i graduated from high school with are still in the area, and i count them as friends. my friends from graduate school, both classmates and faculty, are scattered around the world. and then there are the women i’ve met online – mostly through blogs and twitter.

(my mother must occasionally worry about how many people will be at my funeral, because that is an important testament, you know.)

in my experience, the evolution of an online friendship – at least on twitter – goes like this: exchange follows on twitter > exchange tweets and retweets > comment on each other’s blog > swap private emails > exchange phone numbers > connect via phone or skype > meet in person.

many of my friends live in different time zones, so when we do lunch, it’s a virtual lunch.

and it’s not always at lunchtime for at least one of us.

but they’re still friendships. we’re women who share the same interests; ask the same questions of ourselves and others; laugh together; cry together; help each other realize our desires and dreams; and just generally see and consequently bring out the best in each other. it’s amazing how close i feel to so many of these women i’ve never laid eyes on. how much i cherish them, am stimulated by their creativity, enriched by their intelligence, shored by our conversations.

one of these women is celebrating a birthday today: angela kelsey (@angelakelsey). angela is an avid, intrepid seeker who is (thank goodness) willing to share her questions and occasional answers. her open mind and equally open heart inspire me, tickle me, challenge me, encourage me. though her interests are varied, the common thread is a desire to be the very best woman she can be. please click on her name to visit her blog or find her on twitter or, if all else fails, leave a comment here to join me in wishing her happy, happy.

when angela and i first met in person, the ways our friendships differ from our mothers’ friendships really surfaced. when angela told her mother that i was meeting her in columbia, south carolina, her mother expressed concern that i might turn out to be an axe murderer or something. we laughed as she told me the story, but i couldn’t help thinking how understandable that is from our mothers’ perspectives.

well anyway, whether your friends live in the same town or are neighbors in the etherhood, go invest some time into evolving a friendship, will ya? the return on investment is astounding, humbling, life changing.

things inquiring minds want to know, day 12

October 16, 2010 / jeanne / 7 Comments

as mother remains at the beach with her friends, hubby and i flew to orlando today to visit my sister-in-law (or, as i prefer to say, my sister-in-love), nancy, and take her out to lunch and most importantly: SHOPPING!

this time with mother is so precious. i want to know her at a deeper level. i want to know myself at a deeper level. there are so many questions i want to ask . . . if only i could articulate them.

today was filled with nancy’s repetitive questions:

do you like me?
am i a good girl?
i’m pretty good all by myself, right?

as i answered her questions for the umpteenth time, i realized that nancy’s questions are the best, most important questions of all: simple questions about things we long to know but are too afraid to ask.

i always said i was gonna’, day 10 (on 11)

October 15, 2010 / jeanne / 4 Comments

i always said i was gonna’ take some little road trips all by myself, and well bless goodness if i didn’t just up and do it yesterday – and i wound up walking on holy ground . . .

~~~
i always said i was gonna’ just pull over and take pictures. i’ll admit to being a teensy bit worried about whether mother’s dainty little sedan could take pulling over on these country roads, but you know that ole’ girl did just fine. i believe she’s got an inner suv that had itself a big ole’ time.

now my boy kipp and i call them story (STOW ree) houses cause they just conjure up the storyteller in us, and we always said that one day we’re gonna’ just stop and take pictures when we see one. well, i started without you, kipp:

i’d no doubt be telling completely different stories if i’d ever had to pick cotton:

to prove i was where i said i was:

“i ‘spect people picked at him on account of the way he dressed,” whispered blondell. “i got a cousin just like that,” i told her. “his mama didn’t have any more sense than to bring him down from new jersey dressed in linen shorts, knee socks, and a little ole’ beanie cap to match. he’s episcopalian now.”

a chunk of boo radley’s tree. the knot hole’s down in the gift shop. they sell chewing gum out of it.

a juror’s chair. i tend to believe blondell when she says this is the original seat.

me. sitting in the witness chair. (yes, of course i took the fifth.)

the witness spittoon. “can you imagine,” blondell asked me, “spittin’ in public RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE?” i could not.

the courtroom itself from the public entry:

and finally, the picture de resistance snapped by me. sitting in the judge’s chair. you knew i’d do it, didn’t you?

to be

October 14, 2010 / jeanne / 1 Comment

long, full, adventurous day.
but it’s late,
and i’m tired to the bone,
so
i’ll have to tell you about today tomorrow.

she’s no mind reader, day 9

October 13, 2010 / jeanne / 3 Comments

“did you melt butter to use to make the toast?”

“well, yes,” she says. “i can’t get the stick butter to spread.”

me? i just whack a slice off and lay it on the bread, content to let the oven do the melting, and at this moment, i realize that the food mother prepares tastes sooooo good because she takes time to do the little things like melting the butter for making toast.

and i think that’s a significant difference worth noting: my mother cooks with love.

over breakfast, mother tells my teenage nephew who’s visiting for a few days, “jeanne took a picture of butter so she could write about how ridiculous i am to melt butter before making toast.”

and with that, my friends, we see once again that i choose my words and actions, and she chooses her interpretation of them.

and vice versa.

humpy dumpty’s press agent: day 8

October 12, 2010 / jeanne / 5 Comments

eggs.jeanne.JPG

mother pays a bit attention to appearance than i do (you’ve seen the videos, so you know i’m telling the truth) a difference that was made apparent at breakfast this morning . . .

when we sat down to eat, i said, “this sure does look good.” as i raised my fork to eat, i noticed that the fried egg had broken during the cooking process, so i went to fetch my camera cause i take pictures of whatever strikes my fancy with the thought that i never know what kind of picture i’ll need to go with a post. when i sat back down and she saw me raise the camera, she laughed and said, “oh no you don’t, you stinker” and reached over to put a couple of pieces of toast over the egg.

“mother, i like it and i want a picture of it,” i said, (it sounds a lot whinier when i write it than it did when i said it) moving the toast back to the side of the plate.

“no,” she said, the smile fading. “no, you don’t,” and she moved the toast back on top of the egg.

eggs.ada.JPG

i once again moved the toast to edge of the plate and quickly took my picture.

then

i put two pieces of toast over the eggs and snapped a picture of that.

“there,” i said. “how’s that?”

“that’s better,” she said, her smile returning. “and you have to promise to use my picture, too, if you write about this.”

then we ate.

and i did.

daily tributes: day 7 with mother

October 11, 2010 / jeanne / 4 Comments

she sprinkles her conversations
with words and phrases
coined by others,
always
always
always
giving due and proper credit.

“as ruby mcelroy used to say,
‘it just does my heart good.'”

“as willie used to say,
‘it just slud down the hill.'”

“as kipp would say,
‘i didn’t know i be-ed this good.'”

“as alison would say,
‘this is ree-dik’-uh-lus.'”

each one
a tribute
in the vernacular
of those she once knew
and still loves.

a month with my mother: day 6

October 10, 2010 / jeanne / 7 Comments

today i am thinking that sometimes receiving is itself a gift.

and i wonder why feeling needy
every once in a while
is such a vile thing.

answers are hatching, but
more incubation time is needed.

so many things are
washing up on the beach
during this month with my mother.

some i bring in and ponder.
other things i toss back into the ocean.

to those who took the time to reassure me, thank you.
you are salve to my soul.

of beaches and bars: day 5

October 9, 2010 / jeanne / 14 Comments

i’m feeling too exposed to do a video tonight.
tired, overly vulnerable
from being seen.

today
i think about being transparent.

trans.
parent.
easily seen through.

today i think about how the prefix “trans” means across, over, beyond.

i think about how doing the videos
went over and beyond
writing a travelogue about
how mother and i spend our days.
about how much safer the travelogue would’ve been.

i think about beauty
– i mean all kinds of beauty –
and lack thereof
if there is such a thing.

i think some more about being seen.
i think about how tired i am of thinking.

my children think nothing of posting their photos and videos all over the vast landscape of the internet. but for me to do a video was, well, it sure feels like a big – i mean really big – risk.

do i embarrass my kids?
not the funny-these-are-the-times-you’ll-remember-one-day
embarrassment
but the soul-twisting, i-won’t-be-home-for-thanksgiving-for-the-next-27-years
embarrassment.

i remind myself that it’s time i live
– that i do, in fact, live –
outside the opinions, perspectives, reactions, and comments of others.
i tell myself that other people are interested and intrigued
by their own interests
and how that has nothing to do with me,
but this is one of those days
when it all sounds like
blah blah blah blah blah.

i feel vulnerable.
more than a little exposed
and scared.
downright, flat-out scared.

i am not pretty.
my hair needs to be cut.
i am overweight.
will people still like me?
talk to me?
want to be around me?

i obviously have no studio
no 3-point lighting.
and omg: that breezy beach so-called backdrop.
will people label me as cheesy? an idiot?

i tell stories about my mother
tell them with a southern accent.
will people call me a hick
and dismiss me
as having no depth or intelligence?

i share humorous stories
or maybe not so humorous, depending.
will others think i’m being disrespectful to my mother?

i consider laughter my religion,
finding humor an entertaining and valuable way
to deliver worthwhile messages
and navigate tricky relationship terrain.
i would hike up and down the world
swim in and out of clouds
tromp across oceans
and skip across mountaintops
championing the value of humor
but
is there really anything i
can do or say
to convince people that there humor can
be both sizzle and steak?

and as much as i know the value of humor,
as much as i enjoy cajoling laughter from those around me,
will i be branded worthless
even when and if i write something with my serious ink?