Monday, February 28, 2011

Oh the humanity!

"A clay vessel"  - the human body.
-Anna Kamienska

I have been sick since last Thursday with some fucked up flu bug and it seems like everyone I come into contact with is snuffling about with it.  I shudder to think of the amount of mucous I have produced in the past 5 days.  As a result I have not written anything...bummer, because the goal is to write one piece a day.  Ah well....

Recently, I signed up for a retreat and writing workshop entitled Composing Women's Lives.  According to the facilitator there are no requirements other than a desire to wrap words around my inner thoughts.   I am hoping to explore some form of expression there that will help me find I do have a voice.  Also, I am just now learning about blogs, although what I know could fit on the head of a pin.  One thing I do know is my passion has always been reading and appreciating the writing of other folk.  My first addiction and means of hiding from real life is getting lost in a book.

There is one exception to the above though -memoirs.  It seems to me that writing about your own life and expecting others to pay to read about it is indulgent. I mean are you really that special?

Hypocritical much?  If I'm honest I'd like someone to read this blog.  Yet I can't stand memoirs, especially  when they always seem to be future Lifetime movies of the week.  Pot, this is the're black!  Denial can be such a beautiful thing cause let's face it, how much more indulgent could I be? But at least you can read this for free!
OK, I've gone on long enough.  I am making a cup of tea, taking a Zicam and curling up with the only things that comfort me when I feel like shit...