once upon a time she decided to hold others accountable.
unlike the david and goliath story, she has no slingshot, no rocks to thrust. it is the real world.
she is an individual against a system – one that hides and protects its own, that has no hesitation around spinning webby tales, one in which truthtelling does not fit into the agenda. nevertheless, she persisted. despite their fabrication of narrative. despite the misogyny. despite their absence of proof and her wealth of evidence. she persisted. despite the badmouthing. despite the betrayal. despite the hypocrisy. she persisted. despite the lack of respect. despite the disregard of boundaries. despite the downright ugliness. she persisted. despite the small desperate contingency of Them in a her-them. she persisted.
and in the end, that will be the prize. persistence. speaking up. standing up.
maya angelou is quoted, “each time a woman stands up for herself, she stands up for all women.”
“one of these things is not like the others. one of these things just doesn’t belong.” (sesame street song – joe raposo/jon stone)
we tend to be different. not like the others. it never really surprises us.
we are holey-jeans-wearing-black-shirt-donning-boot-walking-long-hair artist types. so, walking down the streets of most towns, we sort of stand out – we are not wearing corporate clothes, neat-and-tidy clothes, fancy clothes.
there are towns – however – where we fit in a tiny bit better. they are mountain towns on off-days. these are days when the tourist population is down, the sidewalks are not full of louis vuitton and lululemon, the spots next to the curb aren’t proliferated with expensive vehicle logos. they are quieter days. and we stroll on the sidewalks and feel like we fit in.
we looked up the meaning of hippy. i’d like to ignore the “large hips” definition and skip directly to the “hippie/hippy” meaning. and then, i’ll just parse out the relevant stuff – gentle ideology that favors peace and love and personal freedom. yup. that’s the stuff.
it was just after we had been alerted multiple times – in chorus with every other person – in line or seated – who had a cellphone in breckfast, a busy eatery on the north end of this high mountain town – that there was an active shooter less than six minutes up the main road. we were pretty stunned, thinking that this beautiful place – with fresh air and the bluest skies and vistas you can only dream of – would be spared from that kind of violence.
we strolled down the street of breckenridge – our favorite – talking about this world.
we came across this sticker on the back of a street sign. “be hippy” happy face.
and we nodded, glancing at each other, grateful to be different.
yes. remembering dates can be both. on one hand, you can suddenly recall that something absolutely splendid happened on this very date – that it was life-altering, that it was the beginning of a new journey, a divergent path in the woods. on the other hand, you can suddenly recall that something absolutely dreadful happened on this very date – and it slams into you and holds you down for a moment or two while you catch your breath, gulping air, grasping at remembering you are no longer in that very moment on that very day.
today is one of those remembering dates.
but today is the first kind.
eleven years ago today – in baggage claim of o’hare airport – in a pair of jeans, a black sweater and some boots (an outfit pondered over for days) – i stood, holding a single daisy, waiting to finally meet this person i had been communicating with for about six months every single day.
and that moment – on that day – in that place – with that outfit on – was about to change my life.
you can’t always pinpoint those moments, exactlyyy. you know that something – some set of circumstances or events combined to change you – but you don’t always know the moment when something in-real-life enters your life and nothing will ever be the same.
it wasn’t like stars exploding or fireworks. no bells rang in my head. i didn’t faint or have palpitations. i was not weak-kneed. i wasn’t wowed or wooed or walloped. i did not whoop in overwhelming wonder.
i laughed. we hugged. and we skipped. and i felt like i had come home.
the universe had somehow – in some kismet-ish sort of way – sorted through the billions of people on this good earth – and had connected me to a person who would give me equal shares of blissful moments and infuriating moments, the person who would be my favorite person, the person who would be my favorite pain-in-the-ass, the person who would make me think and feel and cry and snort, the person who would be my rock in a never-ending river complete with gentle pools of lazy and boulder-laden whitewater rapids, the person whose kiss on the top of my head nearly breaks my heart open.
sometimes something comes out of the blue. and it just makes you feel oh-so-good.
a wisconsin high school contacted us about a month ago – they wanted to order a few hundred of our “be kind” buttons for their kindness week. with my sweet momma smiling over my shoulder, i tended to all the extra paperwork and steps that a district purchase entails, happily thinking about hundreds of people wearing our buttons.
i originally designed them when we had a showing of the movie wonder at the performing arts center we co-managed on washington island. i wanted everyone to have a “be kind” button as they left the theatre. i’ve ordered and re-ordered these for various reasons and various organizations since. every single time i think about my mom – thrilled that this gentle reminder would be on someone’s lapel, someone’s backpack, someone’s jacket or maybe hanging from their rearview mirror. i personally have them pinned on a few purses – because – well – too many people need to be reminded.
it’s a simplicity. “be kind”…a choice. it echoes out and out in concentric circles and douses people with the magic dust of generosity. i wish that every school, every business, every service or religious organization, every politician, every single person might wear one – to remember.
i am ecstatic each time these buttons are ordered. and i was inordinately proud of the personnel in this high school student services department. so very happy to know that spreading kindness throughout their school mattered. grateful they went the extra mile. that though this district’s per capita spending may have gone up by just the teeniest-tiniest smidge with the purchase of these buttons, the payoff must have been brilliant.
reminders to be kind. to choose kindness. to experience kindness. to live kindness.
and my momma smiled broadly, knowing she inspired these buttons. hundreds of them.
that would be everything except the fact that i can no longer view any reversethreading wordpress blogsite images on my laptop. any. there is an “empty-alt-attribute” problem – in every single one of my images in every single one of my blogposts. all 1899 of them. i see a problem.
a while back i loaded chrome as a browser because – all of a sudden – firefox would not host the writeable portion of my blogsite. it wouldn’t even open it. one day, after having no issue every single other day – for years and years – it just refused to go there.
so i started writing my blogposts on chrome. now, that soundsss like an easy fix – except for the fact that chrome would not allow me to preview the completed post – it says that there is a “privacy error” and that my “connection is not private” and that there are those out there attempting to steal information from me.
sooo, i would write the post on chrome and then open firefox to view it. and then, suddenly, firefox decided that was also an issue and will not take me to the viewable preview of my blogpost. but i can see that on my iPad mini, so i can open that up and view the preview, even though i cannot size any images on that device.
but now, i cannot see any images whatsoever on my site – in chrome (where i can write) or in firefox (where i can do nothing at all). i have read much commentary on the “empty-alt-attribute” debacle – and i have attempted fixes – but to no avail.
everything is not figureoutable.
but i sense that the problem is not the fault of wordpress.
what i believe is happening here is that my handed-down-handed-down laptop – which is from 2008 – is reaching the end of its rope. it can’t handle updates and – because it can’t handle updates – there is less and less i am able to do. it’s time for a new macbook. with all the imagery i fuss with and our smack-dab (and other) cartoons on photoshop, with a six-day-a-week blog, i need to figure out a way to get a new laptop.
some things are just not figureoutable.
some things are just obvious. impossible, but obvious.
right now i am typing on my mini, which is from 2016.
because i know you want to experience this as firsthand as you possibly can, here’s the sordid story:
first, i emailed the image from my iphone to my email and downloaded it to my laptop desktop (because my devices are not capable of talking to each other). next, i loaded the image into wordpress on my laptop (even though i can’t see it, i know it’s there when i check on the mini.) i am unable to size or position the image (remember, i can’t see it), so my sensibility is knocked off by that. i write on the mini so that i can refer to the image (which i can see, but not size). and – because i cannot preview in chrome or in firefox, i can preview the post on this tiny mini ipad screen – with my dollar store readers. when the ipad suddenly balks, i panic a little and take a screenshot with my iphone6s of my post so that i don’t lose it entirely. the attachable keyboard to the mini loses power so i attach the cord and an extension cord to continue writing. i transfer to the laptop to do all my tags and such on chrome – but i have to switch to firefox to grab the link for kerrianddavid.com and to check the melange tab of our site because chrome won’t allow me to go there – another “privacy error”. i grab the link and go back to chrome, insert the link and schedule the post. i can’t see the other images i place within (like website boxes and qr codes), but i trust that they are there. when d isn’t using his laptop, I borrow it, sign out of his blogsite and into mine and size my images so that they are not obnoxiously large on my post. then i sign out and give him back his computer, trusting that the process (which used to be inordinately smoother and required far less patience) is now complete – even with all its figureouts. and it only took two laptops, two browsers, an ipad mini and an iphone to complete. and some laughter. definitely some laughter.
i guess things are figureoutable. sometimes a big pain and ridiculously workaroundish, but figureoutable nonetheless.
eh. i’m thinking that i need to figure something else out.
i pointed and said, “look!!!!” david turned his attention to the suv one lane over, the one with “flawed” stenciled under the back window, next to the weeping rust spot.
i read it aloud and nodded. yes. flawed. indeed.
it occurs to me that the world would be a better place if everyone would consider their flawedness. we could all post it somewhere to remind ourselves. or carry it around like a mantra in our hearts. it would add a little grace, a little flexibility, a little humility to every situation. it could be a really good thing.
back a buncha years ago, we – 61 – that’s me, 14 and 20 – sat around our little (flawed) kitchen table and brainstormed, laughing. we came up with a cartoon called “flawed cartoon” and 20 and 14 started feverishly writing one-liners, one after another. because their brains are, well, their brains (flawed), i didn’t think every single thing they came up with was funny (because i am also flawed), but it made me laugh aloud. and some of it made me cringe like when you play cards against humanity – which is a dreadful game – apples to apples is much easier on the soul.
d drew tons of single panels. being human is messy so they all had great potential to point out the absurdity of living as a sentient being. not to mention the ridiculous ego ride many people seem to be surfing. or the necessity of taking things in stride or realizing – once again – that you are not as “all that” as you think. mostly, they’re pretty amusing and laughter is a good thing.
there are a lot of bumper stickers out there. some are pretty inspiring; some make me laugh. and some are pretty despicable and make me wonder what kind of person peels off the backing and places it on their vehicle for all the world to see.
one of the best things i’ve seen of late is the back of this suv.
FLAWED.
because we are.
“still, what i want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled –
to cast aside the weight of facts
and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
i want to believe i am looking
into the white fire of a great mystery.
i want to believe that the imperfections are nothing –
that the light is everything –
that it is more than the sum of of each flawed blossom rising and falling.
we ordered fried rice and eggrolls the same day i blogged about joy sprinkles. it doesn’t take much to get us enthused and fried rice and eggrolls do it. because we don’t eat out often, it is always a treat to have something someone else has prepared and this dinner is no different.
we only got one fortune cookie in our brown stapled bag of deliciousness; our order must be considered a small order. we saved it for later.
i got to be the one to crack it open.
“sprinkles of joy will shower upon you in unexpected ways.”
it was one of those stunning moments in the universe when all comes to a screeching halt and you realize it is – indeed – all connected. just when you felt a little bit untethered, a little unsteady, the universe shows up with an anchor.
and here it was. simply the words “sprinkles of joy”.
i texted heidi – forever my keeper of the word “sprinkles” – and we laughed to realize we had juuust spoken these very words, that i had just written them. unexpected, for sure. it was like the universe had its own personal siri listening in – like when you talk about mumbai – never touching your computer or phone or any device – and then it shows up on your facebook feed or in your instagram. here it was – the universe echoing back to me the words “sprinkles” and “joy”.
we walked past the cemetery at the end of our road on the way back from the corner store. it was sunny saturday and, having spent the day doing chores inside and outside around the house, we were going to sit out back on the patio with dogga, sip a glass of wine and eat – yes – chips. we haven’t had chips in a week and thought, “eh…what’s a few chips?!!” it was with chip-guilt in a plastic bag walking home – as we strolled past the cemetery – that d looked over at me.
“i’m glad the cemetery is at the end of our block,” he said. “it reminds me that these people all had lives, too,” going on to talk about perspective, stuff that matters and stuff that doesn’t matter, the passage of time, the not-knowing.
every moment is one in which to create joy. for oneself. for others. together. to be showered by sprinkles of joy. in unexpected ways.
i proudly carried our bag of chips the rest of the way home.
“neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.” (desiderata – max ehrmann)
we wander down roads peppered with aridity and disenchantment. the impact is exhausting. the fallout can be long-lasting. they – aridity and disenchantment – wind around our fragile hearts, pressing, making us short of breath.
we are disappointed. we believed that others were different. we believed we were cared about, appreciated, that we were held in grace.
we are shaken. for some things take us by surprise, some people take us by surprise. we flail and stumble over these rugged rocks slyly hiding just beneath the road’s surface.
we are hurting. for we feel betrayed. aridity and disenchantment pale; they are dim heartbeats of betrayal.
and we find we must take a moment, a respite on the side of the road. our hearts are floundering.
and – somehow, somewhere – we are reminded. just as we were about to pick up the cynicism white flag, we can see it: love.
and we can feel the river flowing through us and we can feel hope rising. for under the snow the grass is greening.
and we turn away from that which causes us profound thirst, that which prevents growth. and we discard that which has been a rude awakening, that which has elicited utter disillusionment.
20 sees faces everywhere. and because he does, so do we. taking the donkey chip out of the bag, it was without hesitation i sent him chipface, pointy nose, weak jaw and all. he sent some snide remark back, making me laugh aloud. communication at its best.
i sorted through some of the most brilliant comments i’ve heard in recent days to choose an apt quote for this little guy. i decided to pick the one that is most obvious, the no-duh-est, the thing people who do-as-i-say-not-as-i-do often say. i agree wholeheartedly with chipface. communication IS the biggest thing in any relationship. and lack of communication – with its undercurrents – makes fools of all of us.
christopher wool holds nothing back. his work is stark and transparently void of flowery language. the piece pictured below – “fool” – sold for $7.8 million at a christie’s london sale in 2012. its predecessor “blue fool” sold for just over $5 million and was identical but with blue font. clearly, black is more fashionable than blue. mostly, it makes me laugh aloud to read that someone paid $7.8 million to own the painting of the word “fool”. particularly because christopher is said to not “suffer fools” and his pushback on people must be rampant. i do wonder if you’d only hang this seasonally – say, on april fool’s day – or if it is a piece for the year round…as a reminder…a humbling…a nudge.
david and i attended a talk in chicago between christopher wool and a docent at the art gallery. in pure christopher wool tongue-in-cheek deliciousness, after the docent went on and on about the premise behind one of wool’s photography pieces, after she touted his possible psychological state and the philosophical underpinnings of his work, he shrugged, looked at the audience and – advancing his relationship with that audience by leaps and bounds – merely said, “i took the photograph because i liked it.”
communication at its best. yes. truth. pure and simple.
reverse threading 