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sun_set_bravelyFunny, as I'm on LJ longer, I've mostly dropped the clever titles, and now I use titles that will actually help me find the entries when I'm looking for them.
Last night, I dreamed that Yoko Ono and John Lennon were sleeping in my mom's bed in my home in Houston. I was there, too, and I walked in to get something from her bathroom, and I was super surprised to see them. I was only surprised because they were famous, not because John is dead. This fact didn't even occur to me until I woke up.
John got up to go to the bathroom; he was sick with a cold, and he looked really scruffy. I think he was even wearing plaid flannel pajamas. Yoko had long hair, like she did in the 70s. I sort of stood there, waiting for him to get back in bed. I felt awkward because I didn't want to infringe on their privacy, but it was my mom's room, after all. Finally, I simply left, and as I did, I realized that Paul & Linda were in my bedroom. This whole dream left me happy, to see the house full of passionate couples.
~ ~ ~
I'm reading my novel for the first time. I'm reading it as if someone else wrote it, so I'm not allowed to take notes on how much my dialogue sucks, or whatnot. I'm just taking it all in. Some of it, well, needs improvement, but I'm pleasantly surprised to find luminous passages where my mind skipped into another realm of words and images, and gathered them like wildflowers.
When I was writing it, I was keenly aware that I was stealing details from my friends' and family's lives without remorse. But I had no idea how deep I was pulling details from my own subconscious. I can't believe how much of myself I wrote into this book. It's kind of embarrassing. There are all my secrets, not in a journal where they're safe from the world's eyes, but in a book that's printed out. It scares me that even three people in the world have copies of this book, especially because two of them are on almost every page of it.
But beyond the embarrassment, I'm glad that my hand took over from my brain. Had my brain had anything to do with it, I doubt I would have gotten past page ten. One of my favorite parts of the Woodhull credo is "to take the risk of communicating honestly." This novel is certainly risky in lots of places. I'm realizing in my life how much of a risk it can be to be honest. At work, in my writing, at home, with my friends, with my family... It is windy and scary out on that limb. But it's the only way to live.
~ ~ ~
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freak1c is coming home today, and he's bringing bobbydrake007 and a couple of friends with him. I know it's only one weekend, and next Tuesday the moving men will come to take his things away, but I'm thankful for the weekend, and to be able to tell him to come on home one more time.
Last night, I dreamed that Yoko Ono and John Lennon were sleeping in my mom's bed in my home in Houston. I was there, too, and I walked in to get something from her bathroom, and I was super surprised to see them. I was only surprised because they were famous, not because John is dead. This fact didn't even occur to me until I woke up.
John got up to go to the bathroom; he was sick with a cold, and he looked really scruffy. I think he was even wearing plaid flannel pajamas. Yoko had long hair, like she did in the 70s. I sort of stood there, waiting for him to get back in bed. I felt awkward because I didn't want to infringe on their privacy, but it was my mom's room, after all. Finally, I simply left, and as I did, I realized that Paul & Linda were in my bedroom. This whole dream left me happy, to see the house full of passionate couples.
~ ~ ~
I'm reading my novel for the first time. I'm reading it as if someone else wrote it, so I'm not allowed to take notes on how much my dialogue sucks, or whatnot. I'm just taking it all in. Some of it, well, needs improvement, but I'm pleasantly surprised to find luminous passages where my mind skipped into another realm of words and images, and gathered them like wildflowers.
When I was writing it, I was keenly aware that I was stealing details from my friends' and family's lives without remorse. But I had no idea how deep I was pulling details from my own subconscious. I can't believe how much of myself I wrote into this book. It's kind of embarrassing. There are all my secrets, not in a journal where they're safe from the world's eyes, but in a book that's printed out. It scares me that even three people in the world have copies of this book, especially because two of them are on almost every page of it.
But beyond the embarrassment, I'm glad that my hand took over from my brain. Had my brain had anything to do with it, I doubt I would have gotten past page ten. One of my favorite parts of the Woodhull credo is "to take the risk of communicating honestly." This novel is certainly risky in lots of places. I'm realizing in my life how much of a risk it can be to be honest. At work, in my writing, at home, with my friends, with my family... It is windy and scary out on that limb. But it's the only way to live.
~ ~ ~
freak1c is coming home today, and he's bringing bobbydrake007 and a couple of friends with him. I know it's only one weekend, and next Tuesday the moving men will come to take his things away, but I'm thankful for the weekend, and to be able to tell him to come on home one more time.
