a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.
a Tiny description
a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog, tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.
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Sunday, May 18, 2008
ya know?
i am a reader...my mom used to pile up a thousand books from the library, and we'd sit in the big chair all day reading. rather, she would read and i'd look at the big bright pictures...one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish...i will not eat green eggs and ham...all the classics. i can still quote Dr. Seuss at the drop of a hat. as i got older, Nancy Drew mysteries became my passion (but not the scary ones). then modern romance, (pullease!) , then whatever caught my interest...from science & psychology to New York Timesy stuff to,yes, i'll admit it - the Oprah selection. i took it all in. it was food to me. and escape to imagination. and exciting. one day a friend made a remark about someone who "only reads the Oprah" books and thinks she's well-read." terrible comment. and it reflected more about the friend than the "target." life is not all about being serious, in my opinion. and if you enjoy a quick escape into Toni Morrision land, have at it! i have stacks and stacks of books and magazines beside my bed on a table...and more underneath it! when i'm sick, i'd rather cuddle up under the covers and read-and-doze than watch TV. that's my choice when i'm well, too. but that Oprah comment always stayed with me and i felt un-cool reading an Oprah selection, or her magazine. now let me just chime in and say that of all the addictions i have...caffeine, nicotine, Bulgari perfume...right at the top of the list is magazines. i have subscriptions i forget that i have till they arrive in my mailbox...i do spend a ton of money on magazines at Barnes & Noble down the street. they know me by name there. they ask about my art. when i've special-ordered in a book, they wave to me from the door and tell me it's in, and one woman even comments " i just don't think you'll like this one..." It's like "Cheers." so anyway, where am i rambling? oh. i know. technology has also thrown blogs into the mix...sort of a continuing magazine...tune in tomorrow, etc. so there's a whole new world of things to read! and guess what? i'm finding myself picking up and *gasp* BUYING Oprah magazine a lot lately. this month's edition hits the nail on the head about body-acceptance and image and all sorts of things. as i age, things are not where i left them 20 years ago...breasts have become hips, hips have become who knows what extending well beyond where they were, my butt has become the back my knees, etc. Somewhere around 45, i realized i was not 25. i stopped trying to dress 25, and stopped trying to look 25 (a time when i weighed 100 lbs and wore a size 0-3). oh the freedom! see, the Big Secret is that at 45, and then more so at 50, you release yourself to become what you were meant to be...you can still have the inner feelings of excitement that you had at 25, but now you don't feel the need to cram into too-tight jeans. Cosmo magazine has a decades long history of disservice to Real Women. is it me, or am i right here: real live women just don't fret that much about spike heels, g-spots, the perfect smoldering eyeliner, etc. Real Women are more likely to fret over time-management and billpaying. my friend talks about becoming "culturally invisible" when she turned 50. I do agree that i used to think at this age it would all be over, and the remaining years would be spent waiting for the train to glory. but yes and n o. i may be Invisible and obsolete in the minds of 20-year-olds, but so much the better. i can speak my mind more freely that at any other time in my life...i'm now the old person that you listened to with respectful silence, then rolled your eyes as you walked away. and the cool part is that i feel i CAN speak my mind. and i do. i've never been one to hold back if the situation was important enough, but now, i'm a fountain. and i love the freedom. my concern over weight and fashion and makeup and looks...oy...too much trouble compared to the other wonderful things life has to offer. not to say that i just let it rip and wander aimlessly about in farmer jeans and unwashed hair spouting dreams and opinions at passersby. but a quiet, knowing grace has taken center stage...i still feel "girlish" inside, but have more experiences to back up what i say/do/want/don't want. my knees and hands don't always cooperate, and don't even get me going about my back, but i no longer worry about what "They" will think. and as i read the stories about body image in *gasp* Oprah magazine, i realized that this journey is not unique to me...that it's a rite of passage...a pilgrimage from Monolo Blahnik to menopause. and i'm okay with Crocs and Sketchers, but spike heels are for the young and coordinated. i have something far more enduring and fulfilling than youthful, wrinkle-free skin and perfect cleavage...i have me. L
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