I was just outside drinking coffee, listening to birds, watching lobster boats puttering around in the bay and old fellas driving along our road at neck breaking speeds of 25 kph. They do that here, many of them twice a day, coming to a full stop if they see an unfamiliar car in the neighborhood before heading to the wharf for a yarn with their salty pals.
I sat contemplating the idea of blogging. Today as well as last week I woke up with a familiar feeling of, not so much dread, but some nagging anxiety around having an assignment due and not having any idea how to do the thing. I think I might have blogging-phobia.
I have learned a few things about myself. One of which is that I love structure. I love projects with a beginning and an end and a little elbow grease. I have also learned that I do not like routine. A little is okay, like cleaning on Mondays, but other than that, not so much.
Another thing I know is that when I try to be funny or entertaining, I am generally not. I succeed only at being annoying. Bringing me back to the blogging thing on Sundays… I don’t feel like it is working. Not to say that I don’t like writing. I love it. But I love it when I sit down and write with no deadlines or expectations. Like when I was in school, yes I know that was eons ago, let it go, but the idea of some skirted woman standing in front and ordering me to write something almost gives me chills. Like I stated I would retell a story about a Geranium, and then didn’t do it. Why? Not sure.
Okay, maybe because I have a guest here. This is day five of the Liverpool International Theatre Festival, and last night we attended plays number 9 and 10. Today at 1:00 we go see Egypt perform. The festival is non short of amazing, but also the kind of thing I cannot begin to describe adequately. Last night we saw a play from Poland; four women preforming around the theme of journey and femininity … I can’t begin to do it justice, but one part had one woman grating a head of cabbage and flinging it everywhere while two others dressed in aprons and kerchiefs danced around with wooden spoons and mixing bowls slinging flour all around the stage. And that was one small scene of a mix of Rocky Horror Picture Show, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and the Grapes of Wrath, all in Polish. Following that, a company from the USA did a rendition of Charlie Brown with all manner adolescent issues including bullying, homosexuality and suicide. First Snoopy was put down because he got rabies and killed Woodstock. Charlie Brown visited Lucy in jail, who was serving time for lighting the red headed girl’s hair on fire, Charlie Brown kissed Beethoven, Pig Pen broke Beethoven’s hands and Beethoven committed suicide. Friday we saw Noah and his wife build and ark onstage and bring forth a multitude of animals, all in German. After that four women ate real chicken with cuttlerly from plates suspended by wires from a wooden frame, the plates suspended not in the way they would sit on a table, but in the way they would hang on a clothesline…while they gesticulated wildly, discussing issues around four generations of abandonment, single parenthood and alcoholism… in Romanian.
And that is just a tiny tiny tip of the iceberg, pardon the cliche. I could go on and on…
It all makes me re-realize the mind-boggling creativity which exists. There is so much talent out there and it seems so many people are exploring and contributing in one way or another. Through acting, singing, writing….
So much to see, to hear, to learn.
And so many bloggers.
If I want to profess to be a writer, I have to admit I write sporadically, and I do believe I am not so much a writer as a storyteller, if that makes any sense. And I would rather write another book during my inspiring moments of wanting to be at one with the keyboard.
So maybe blogging isn’t for me. I’m still not sure. Having said that I don’t really feel comfortable with a ‘weekly’ thing, it may be that I do. Or maybe not.
We’ll see. That too I know. That we will see. And perform, preform? I really should have listened more in high school. I fear if I took grade 10 English right now I would fail. And I didn’t even proof read this, not that that would change anything, but the sun is shining.
Maybe I shall jabber on next week, or maybe next Thursday. Or the Tuesday after next. We’ll see. In the meantime, there are millions of blogs out there…
Have a great week. And celebrate all the talent out there.
It’s nothing short of amazing.