CAT'S OUT OF THE BAG

I just Googled, “How to make your About Me page stand out on your blog.” Ugh. Okay. So I’m supposed to dazzle you, boast about my accomplishments and convince you I’m getting five million hits a day on my blog. Ah, hell no. That’s wayyyy too much work.

I’m pretty simple, really. I draw and paint things. I take pictures. I stare at people a lot. And I think I may have strangled a cat once.* [See Claimant’s Exhibit #1 below]. And I write about stuff. Sorry, that’s all I got. I don’t chronicle cooking a meal each day for 365 days a-la Julie Powell in Julie & Julia.  I’m not a health nut, an overachieving mommy with handy tips, or an expert on any theme in particular. There’s no rhyme or reason to my posts. Some are pretty funny. And I actually am a pretty good cook and, indeed, would make Julia proud, so I will  throw in some food porn I’ve created now and then.

*No animals were harmed in the production of this blog…just sayin’

Exhibit #1

I began my illustrious art career in the 6th grade at St. Ann’s Catholic School in Arlington, VA, when the nuns asked me to create a flyer for our May Day celebration. (They must have liked the way I scribbled all over my desk.) And I became a writer on the same day when I inked, “O Mary, we crown thee with blossoms today, Queen of the Angels and the  Queen of May” inside the program. (Yeah, I stole that. And that’s when I learned to never reveal your sources). And I acquired an appreciation for fashion on May Day by shoving a floral wreath on my head and donning a really cute white dress with matching patent leather shoes that were to die for. Speaking of Julias, all I needed at that point was a white horse, and I would have been a shoe-in as Julia Roberts’ stand-in during the filming of Runaway Bride.

To this very day, I am fascinated by the way people act, walk, talk, and think the way they do. My daughter cringes when she’s with me in a public place, always mumbling “Quit staring!” I admit I am a relentless and zesty stalker of the mundane. And, as the famous anthropologist, Margaret Mead, said years ago, “There is no more creative force in the world than a menopausal woman with zest.”  Make that post-menopausal…

And I like this song by Natasha Bedingfield. She gets me….

I am unwritten, can’t read my mind, I’m undefined
I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand, ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

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