Travelogues are easy...too easy.
It's like following along the lines in a coloring book. Sure, you get to decide what color to make everything, but the image has already been decided for you. I'm usually the one who takes the pictures , so the creativity is still there in a travelogue, but the artist, the poet in me, notices the lack of impasto to my words. The lack of tenebroso, the wallpaper smoothness with which I present a pretty slice of life to you.
It's a hell of a lot messier in real life. The everyday passions and woes leave splatters and splashes of red anger, and slate blue sadness; sunny yellow children's kisses and grey streaks of self doubt leave their marks upon the walls of my mind.
I'm not much of a housekeeper because I kind of like the clutter of life around me. Still, I'm hesitant to ask you in, afraid you'll see the mess and think less of me, despite my disclaimers of, "Please excuse; it's usually not like this", because, honestly? It usually is.
If you don't mind mental messes, please come in. I'll make a pot of coffee and we'll talk, while we fill our minds and mouths with tarty-sweet cobbler ideas.
9 comments:
Beautifully written, of course. :)
I would be happy to come have coffee with you.. and truly.. honestly.. I couldn't care less about your clutter.
Me personally? I like the clutter. It's the clutter and splatters of color that add texture an interest to an otherwise blank canvas. How dull would life be if we were picture perfect and well behaved all the time? So go Jackson Pollok all over this here blog; hell, embrace your inner Vincent if the urge strikes. Cuz girl, anything you share is worthwhile and always full of tarty goodness.
It doesn't have to be pretty or tidy, not in the least.
Letting us see all that real life mess? That's what keeps up coming back.
(P.S. I would never write a word if I had to be pretty or tidy in blogland, trust.)
mmm...cobbler.
Gorgeous.
And you know I'm all about the mess of things. In my house and otherwise.
absolutely beautiful, doll
I grew up in a house overflowing with books and sentimental values, walls purple and orange.
Pretty sure I'd feel at home.
Ah, just push aside that old pile of newspapers and serve me up another heaping plate of that cobbler, darling.
"The everyday passions and woes leave splatters and splashes of red anger, and slate blue sadness; sunny yellow children's kisses and grey streaks of self doubt leave their marks upon the walls of my mind."
This is so good! You are an amazing writer . . .
I had to look up "impasto". Cool word!
As for clutter . . . yep, I'm with you. There's just something comforting in an organized mess . . .
Beautiful post . . .
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