Nothing to make you reflect on your life more than writing a short bio. I am applying for a scholarship to take a little printmaking class and the only requirement is a "short bio". Doesn't matter who you are, they just want to keep a record of everyone who has applied. Sounds easy. But I sat there for too long wondering what to include, what to leave out. Makes you feel glad you took some chances when you were young and wished you'd taken a few extra spirited leaps. I start very dryly with "Lauren Holman was born on Bainbridge Island WA in the Spring of 1984" followed by "In 2008 she graduated from Evergreen". It's standard to skip your entire childhood but it feels like a pretty big fast forward. Is our adult life all that counts?
"She liked skipping rocks at the beach as a youngster and going to bed with sand in her hair. Preschool was enjoyed immensely. Holman especially liked the Water Station where you wrung water out of sponges and also the Hammer Station where you pound nails into a rounds of wood, safety goggles tightly secured. The following twelve years were approached with great skepticism. Adolescence was spent listening to The Cure, pretending not to worry about boys and focusing really hard on being different and sad."
I admit, I don't actually know how to skip rocks. Every few years I try again, and rarely, in a moment of magic, one small disk of compressed matter skims across the water.
I already feel settled here in Olympia. In the first few weeks I spent every spare moment unpacking and making home. Now we are establishing routine and lolling around the the town, and also the floor. I've been distracted, as I often am in life, wanting to read engaging pieces like this article , "A neighborhood garbage man explains Egypt" and listen to this addicting podcast, Serial. (Seriously, this new podcast is riveting. I know I'm always blabbing about podcasts but if you want to be on the edge of your seat, and slightly disturbed, this is the one.)
Jill came for a visit and that was a great distraction. We ate rice cakes and peanut butter. I was instantly transported to age seventeen, listening to Rocky Racoon in her white Pontiac. Probably eating rice cakes with peanut butter on our paper delivery route at 3 in the morning.
Watching this short video on handwork reminds me of why I'm trying to do what I'm doing. And always, Ira Glass on taste. Good for a push.
Lately we've been watching a little Roseanne. Roseanne came out in 1984. This was the year I was born. And it's still good. Dan and Roseanne are TV relationship role models. Thanks to my brother for keeping up with modern times he suggested transparent. We gobbled it up in only a few nights. A good break from the 80's.
One more thing. Kids keeping it real. Makes you feel pretty silly and fake as a grown up. Pretending to like things and feel a certain way. Kids are so honest. Why do we lose that? I mean, I know why. But seriously, why?
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Afternoon tea with pink ladies, billy-bobs, old brown sweatpants and Dean. Green tea and fancy cakes. This little critter crashed the party. Happily so.
