many, many years ago – when my children were little – they used to play a computer game called bugdom. it was based on perspective from – well – a bug’s life. the actual plot – as i recall – is way too contemporaneous now for comfort but the graphics – at the time – were fascinating and the mac version of this game was amazingly realistic. winding your way between bits of vegetation and rocks, you could feel immersed in bugdom as you – playing the part of a rollie pollie – try to save other bugs – like ladybugs – after an evil and tyrannical ambush of the bug kingdom. like i said, too close for comfort.
i often think about what things look like from a different perspective. it is essential as artists. the trying-to-stand-in-someone-else’s-shoes thing is important to me. things that are affecting bugdom are not just the things that are affecting me. since all of bugdom is interconnected, anything that is affecting one is, therefore, also affecting me. we try not to be so isolated – or cavalier – as to think that the plight of the ladybugs will not affect us rollie pollies.
so i get down on my knees to shoot photographs from a vantage point swinging on a snowdrop or a wild daffodil leaf. i sit on the ground to shoot pictures through the may apples. i take videos of caterpillars on their plane of existence, practically laying on the ground.
because everything changes when your perspective changes – when you allow for a shift in how you are looking at something, when you entertain empathy and compassion – when you stand in another’s shoes.
somewhere in the old romper room do-bee song i’m guessing there’s a line that says “do be a good rollie pollie.”
“i’m a romper room do-bee, a do-bee all day long.” (romper room)
oh geeez. about to write this blogpost, i looked at this image – of this stunning bumblebee happily lingering in the flowers of our coleus – and thought of the romper room do-bee song. where does this stuff come from???
my dear husband claims that i am a circular worker-bee, that i go from one thing to the next, doing a bit, then doing a bit, then doing a bit, then circling around again and getting a bit more done, a bit more done, a bit more done. i suppose that is somewhat true – though i would like to add that eventually it all truly gets done, circular or not. as i watched this bumblebee bumbling happily around the other day, i thought that maybe i am more of a bumble than a circular worker-bee. or maybe that’s the same thing…
this little bee seemed perfectly content to flit from one flower to the next, never lingering too long on any one nectar source. it reminds me of when i had toddlers, flitting from reading from a stack of books on the floor to the matchbox cars on the floor to the studio to jot down a lyric or a melody to the stove to stir the kraft macaroni and cheese or flip over the grilled cheese sandwich. in constant motion. just like the bee. eh, truth be told, it reminds me of now.
romper room was a staple back in the day. though the host never saw me (she never said my name aloud) in her magic mirror, i remained a fan through my pre-school years. the fact that i have the romper room do-bee songs 45 rpm record attests to the impact of this little show back then. it’s interesting that i still have it – in my 45rpm record case – the kind that perfectly fits 45s with a buckle on the front and the handle on the top. and it does make me wonder how mitch miller and his orchestra, along with the sandpipers recorded this side a/side b with straight faces. “i always do what’s right. i never do anything wrong. i’m a romper rom do-bee, a do-bee all day long,” the big finish has a predictably rising (and crescendoing) melody despite impossible-to-humanly-achieve lyrics.
we write blogposts six days a week, as you know. five of them are based on images of photography or quotes we have come across in our path, while saturday is the cartoon smack-dab that we produce. that you have gotten to this sentence is amazing to me and i want to thank you for reading – however often or sporadically you read. i’m never quite sure of what i will write as we open up our laptops (ok, well, not my laptop now as that is refusing to remember its role in life, so i open up my mini ipad). i’m never sure of how you might react or respond to what i have written. sometimes i feel vulnerable about what i have shared. sometimes i feel nervous about what i’ve put out there. sometimes i’m a little tiny bit proud of something i’ve written. nevertheless, i keep writing and telling you of life from my little corner of the world. it is, after all, a romper room rule:
i’m an artist. always i know that there will be another flower, there will be another source of nectar. the next image, the next day. and i will happily – and bumbly – share words and thoughts with whomever wishes to read them.
you and i – we are together in this moment. we are doing-do-bees, sharing time in the world.
and, from the bottom of my trying-to-be-a-do-bee-all-day-long heart, i wish you plentiful flowers filled with plentiful sweet nectar as you flit from one moment of your life to the next.
reverse threading 