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getting reacquainted … with me

June 9, 2011

I’ve worn camouflage for so long that I’ve mistaken it for my skin. It’s time to peel away my armor, and let my true patterns gleam in moonlight and sun. Who am I?

One of my favorite activities is thinking/feeling (which I need a better name for); then reading. And they amplify each other because I learn about new stuff when I read, which I think/feel about, then I figure out how to integrate it (or not) into my worldview. Rinse, repeat.

I generate lots of ideas, or pull them from the ether, and spend time imagining what I could do with them. Occasionally, I design things that are missing in my life, but I need to save up energy for that as creativity’s trial-and-error can be emotionally taxing.

I write to think, and draw to think, and have painted to think. Some of my best thinking happens when I’m moving – walking or dancing. I have woven tapestry and embroidered meditatively. I haven’t figured out how to art-quilt in my own fashion yet.

I love yarn, and I’ve been collecting it for years now, but I haven’t figured out how to use it best yet. I’ve taken yarn with me on (solitary) trips to keep me company, because it’s snuggly. I’ve used yarn to help me access active imagination. It’s kind of like a pet.

Colors convey a lot of meaning to me, and I’m always cheered by seeing any of my sacred colors, especially when they occur together: teal, vermillion, spring green, sunset peach, cherry pink, indigo, cobalt, grey, oak gold, forest green, copper, rust, chicory blue, silver, sunset violet, mahogany, rose pink.

I wish I could experience ears that swivel [deer, cats, dogs], hanging by my tail [monkeys], breathing through my skin [frogs, salamanders], navigating by magnetism [bats, sea turtles], seeing in ultraviolet [bees], hearing in infrasound [elephants], tasting through my feet [butterflies].

I wish I could exude chemical messages to other beings in my environment, on purpose [plants], or swap genetic material with non-mates and non-kin [bacteria].

I have four houseplants. Two have been part of my household for 20 or more years (longer than I’ve known Spouse); one for 14 years, and one since we moved here (~3 years). I still mourn the ones who’ve died over the years. Some of my dearest friends have been trees.

I’ve talked to all cars I’ve driven, and I’ve named all the cars I’ve had relationships with.

My first memory – as a toddler — is of sucking on rocks. They were cool and smooth and I still remember what they felt like. Unfortunately, I developed a horrible infection from doing so, and had to get shots in my mouth. (I don’t remember that part, thankfully.) I’ve always wanted to try sucking on rocks again, but have never quite dared.

On childhood trips, what I remember most is the flora and fauna I encountered: a lizard, Grand Canyon; bats, Carlsbad Caverns; a crab, Michigan Dunes; yucca, Albuquerque; heather, Scotland; a goat skull, Long Island, Ireland; a (dead, beached) shark, Virginia Beach; crape myrtle trees, South Carolina; live oaks and Spanish moss, Florida.

In retrospect, it seems obvious I was destined to become a naturalist.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. Nenya permalink
    June 12, 2011 16:25

    You could always wash/disinfect the rocks first. (Unless that would make them seem more human-mediated and less raw-nature, which might be important.)

    I’m finding this a very nifty post, and am off to think about what I do that’s like this. I know I *do* spend a lot of time thinking as a hobby! 😀

    • June 12, 2011 17:57

      Washing the rocks first is actually a really good idea. Hmmm.

      If/when you write about yourself, let me know — I’d like to read it. 🙂

  2. laura heron permalink
    June 12, 2011 17:34

    I’ve worn camouflage for so long that I’ve mistaken it for my skin. It’s time to peel away my armor, and let my true patterns gleam in moonlight and sun. Who am I?

    Really lovely sentance. Do you write poetry? the ability to paint a picture in very few words is rare, and poetry is this…

    • June 12, 2011 17:58

      I haven’t written poetry for many years, but lately I’ve been feeling the urge, but not sure how or where to start up again. Maybe I should just take the plunge, and see where it takes me.

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