My Home is Like My Writing…

The other day this guy Mike who went to grade school with Bill was in Oakmont for his father’s funeral. Bearing a humorous and heartwarming story about how his father died. That’s not an easy feat as most of you can imagine.

Anyway, Mike and his wife visited us eight years ago in our old house in the city but this was the first time we’d seen them since then.

His wife walked all around the new house asking where certain plates, bowls, and furniture pieces were. She remembered a collection of flow blue platters down to their shapes and number and arrangement.

Lest you think this might be uncomfortable for me, I can tell you I was surprised and more than pleased. Someone remembering the things I love to that detail–mentioning how warm she thought the house was and how she thought of it as she decorated hers made me feel as though I created something special.

Many people have been in our house. Most don’t say anything regarding the decorating. Others who are prompted by me will say they love particular things and dislike others. Rarely do people appreciate what I’ve done down to minute detail.

It made me think of writing.
They way people read it and how they react.

I have several trusted readers who will call me immediately after their eyes cross a line that makes them sad, happy, or reminds them of themselves. They remember every word I write and it means something to them about me and them.

Other readers say, “Yeah, I like it.” “It’s good.” But I think they’re afraid to say, “It’s not my thing.” Depending who it is, I press them. Just like with my house. My friend who admits my collection of landscapes don’t do anything for her. My friend who finds my writing not challenging enough for her taste.

So my friends, this is all I can muster for a post…the beginnings of an essay…very bad…obviously will work on it.

Maura will email me with this week’s post soon, but you guys are asking awesome questions and everyone seems to be learning from the interaction…keep the questions coming. Even when I ‘m late with a post…you can’t ask too many.

Oh yeah, the Travel section of OK! magazine crossed my path (I don’t know how I got it. It’s not like I read those things) and the clearest, bluest water I’ve ever seen is part of a profile of French Polynesia. The water in the picture beckons–alive in it’s tempting hues and calm waves that can’t be masked by still photography.

If you had a the ability to go somewhere next week, no cost, babysitting with your most trusted person on the planet, and no body image issues, where would you go, what would you do????

Right now, I’m thinking Beach. French Polynesia’s looking pretty freaking good.

Post on MJ Rose coming up…will be done revising in 9 days…

7 thoughts on “My Home is Like My Writing…

  1. Without a doubt I’d go to Tuscany. I have been in love with that place ever since I saw the movie Stealing Beauty. The desire to go there grew with Under the Tuscan Sun and read Susuan Elizabeth Phillips’ Breathing Room. It just seems like a place where the history and the earth seep into you, warming your soul.

  2. Kathie the principal of the “audition” post is basically a round robin game , you get comments to your blog, you get to see other blogs possibly new ones you like , and at the end I add ONE new person to my blogroll.
    You can come back as many times as you want during the 48 hours,it is fun and addictive LOL
    Hopefully we will see you sometime during the process 🙂

  3. My oldest sister was very excited to show me a large painting she’d purchased as I’m the artsy fartsy one in the family. It’s a scene of several southwestern adobe huts with some three dimensional elements. While it’s an OK painting and certainly goes with her decor, I think it’s awful. She wanted me to tell her how great it was…so I did. At least she didn’t overpay for it. 😀

  4. I want to be on a beach. A foreign beach with interesting (read not all the same body, race, age) people. And I want something cold with ice and alcohol in one hand, a hot dog in the other, and the David Sedaris book I haven’t been able to read in many days, open in my lap.

  5. With the Bunions, I never have to worry about anybody being honest about whether my writing sucks. They’re as quick to tell me if something in particular touches them. As in my writing, if somebody notices a piece of art in my home, it tells me something more about the person. I take the commentary from my outside readers to heart. Each time I receive a comment it tells me something more about the person – always a treat.

  6. I sure hope the state of my writing is better than the state of my home. Because if my writing were like my home, it would be too messy to be readable and therefore no company would be allowed to read it. 😉

    As far as a dream vacation, though…NEW ZEALAND. Most beautiful place on earth. The happy-place I return to in my head, over and over. Some places are “nice to visit but you wouldn’t want to live there…”; while I highly recommend a visit there, I caution everyone that you’ll not want to come back and if you do, you’ll be nosing around the emigration site forever after.

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