Dig Deeper

"And, everyone who ever had a heart
They wouldn't turn around and break it
And anyone who ever played a part
Oh wouldn't turn around and hate it."

~ Lou Reed, "Sweet Jane"

***

Here I am.

No, Oprah did not call.

No, John Podesta did not call.

Despite my apparent virtual fame (lol), I'm still here.

***

I can see now where those people who were on a season's reality tv show or that poor doofus Joe the Plumber got all bedazzled by some sudden portion of starlight and sunshine. Look at me! You finally found me!

I'm somebody!

Well, truth is that we were all somebodies before the searchlight, right? We all had a life. You don't need 6,102 hits in a day to prove it (truth be told, the vast majority of hits are not readers).

It's nice to think that some of you here suddenly feel like I'm the little golden nugget you found after spending hours in the cold stream, panning through muddy silt. And here I show up in the bottom of the tray, glinting at you. That's cool. But dig deeper. I dare you to read this blog. Not just the last three posts but a whole bunch of 'em if you really mean it. Then you can decide if I'm still golden and if we still have something to say to each other.

And for those of you who've been here with me the whole time, maybe months or more than a year, you know, as with your own selves, you scratch the surface and there's so much more than you can even begin to write. And then there are the things that will never get said at all, but you still hope that people can read between the lines. Or see it in a photo because words just aren't enough sometimes.

***

"If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it." ~ Anaïs Nin

A few types of comments jump out at me:

I'd love to have a blog but I don't know how.
I don't have anything to say.
I'm boring.

For those of us who've been blogging for a while, we've been more than pleasantly surprised that the act is a reward in itself. Our blogs become a virtual studio, an open creative space, and a salon where like minds congregate. There's no impetus to succeed or stand out; in fact, it's a place to get away from all that stuff: Stretch your brain while you exercise your fingers. Manipulate thoughts into words and see if that effort translates into something beyond what you meant.

So grab that brass ring and write and share, for reals. And if the blog doesn't feel like your thing, then go out and do something else. There are no real rewards at the end of the day, just your creativity and your happiness.

***

This morning I made my own infernal music loop (in response to the earworm saga yesterday) by listening to the Cowboy Junkies' cover of Velvet Underground's "Sweet Jane." But this time it's a song I really love, sometimes crave to hear (isn't it funny that you can crave a sound just like something to eat?) so I purposely wanted to hear it as many times as I could before leaving for work.

The Boy had not heard this song before, and we slow-danced in our pj's to it. I nuzzled his neck. Margo Timmins has such a sexy voice.

Before I left for work, he says, "You know what Sweet Jane really is, right? It's heroin."

I figured the lyrics had something to do with drugs, but never gave it much thought. I just like the song. But that's what I mean. Dig deeper. There are little hidden truths buried all over the place. Not just here.

***

ps.: I took that photo a few weeks ago, in the Tenderloin before going to that talk about Benjamin Franklin I told you about. What's really attracting me lately in my photos as I sort through them are the ones that are full of contrasts or contradictions. This image in particular really says more to me than I can describe.