Wednesday, February 17, 2010

"They" Say...

They say, wait - who are they anyways? You hear people use the term, "You know they say you shouldn't eat before you swim." - who are "they?" Who are these masterminds of wrong and right. Who are these ambiguous leaders of thought who determine what can and can't be done? Perhaps it's just the rules of our ancestors that have gotten passed down so many times that no one can really take credit, but rather just be a part of the "they" which we often refer to. But wait, "They say that Tiger had over 15 mistresses." So, this "they" must be a combined group of people, past or present. Where do we come up with these sayings?

Back to what I was saying, they say that you should write about what you know. You should take your personal experience and let it flow like a river from your soul exposing who you are and what you want the world to know. I feel so full of words and thought and life, that I just want to be writing all the time. To express my self, make my opinion clear, start a debate, or just be a voice that people like to hear from. I think that is why I sing. I can choose songs that make me feel something, that express what I would say myself and make it sound pretty or interesting to a group of people. It's pretty powerful. I feel blessed to get to sing every week. It seriously doesn't matter to me if it's for 100 people or 10 drunken bar dwellers. They still clap and still enjoy it and many of them act like you're singing to just them. It's a treat.

When I'm not singing, I'm writing lyrics, poems, stories, and working on a novel that is a feat all its own. I'm painting, I'm drawing, or I'm creating something to share with family and friends. I just love creative energy. It's amazing to have something you can share that wasn't there before you created it. Simple in theory, but amazing when you really dissect what that means. There would have been no Statue of Liberty if not for the French artist and creator Bartholdi. No Mona Lisa without Leonardo Da Vinci. No "Tangled Up in Blue" if there was no Bob Dylan. No "Le Nozze Di Figaro" if not for Mozart. No "Caddyshack" or "National Lapoon's Vacation" without Harold Ramis. So many things we'd be missing without such amazing creative geniuses. So, it's no wonder I want to create. I want to make something from just the inner workings of my mind. To take a look at the world around me and make it into something the whole world can relate to. Isn't that just so amazing? It's the one thing that you can keep on doing for years too because as long as you stay youthful in your mind and never lose your imagination, you can create!

So, I write my stories, my opinion pieces, my poems, and my lyrics just dying to be put to music someday and I think to myself - when? When will I be heard, when will I be valued as a writer? And honestly that little voice always springs up and says, "They say you should write what you know." Them again. The masses, I suppose. So, I should write what I know. Seems simple enough. Strangely though, it isn't as easy as all that. I want my voice to have a comical sense. To be positive and graceful and to show the world I'm a tough woman full of ideas and set in her morals. When if I was under a magnifying glass, there are hard times when I'm just not that at all. I'm dark, moody, sad, pessimistic and does the world really want to see that? Another voice creeps up and says, "They do." Real, true, authentic, living life the best I can, but knowing that there are times when it just bites. When all the strings tied together come undone and seem to get cut so it's harder to reach for their ends and put the pieces back in place. I'm very familiar with that place. Like today, it's Wednesday. Yesterday was a great work day, got a lot done, exercised, felt like the world was beautiful and golden. Today I woke up cynical. My week is almost over, I have so much to do. Didn't sleep well because of bad dreams and took a nap in the middle of the day in the middle of the week. Where is my life going? What will I be doing in six months? I was just down in the dumps. Then, my poor cat had an episode and his breakfast ended up at my bedside. Upset stomach I suppose. I cleaned it up and comforted him realizing how beautiful and vulnerable he really is. He is always there for me when I'm sad or down and today I was there for him. If I had a regular 8 to 5 job, I would have been gone and would have been tired when I got home and would have a totally different reaction to the mess at the side of the bed. I guess there is an upside to being home today. I'll take that little piece of beautiful and move along with a smile. Yes life is hard and I plan to write all about every part of it because it's the dark that makes the light.