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What follows is my personal weblog, in which I discuss painting, family, office politics, falling in love, falling out of love, family dynamics, long lost friends, dreams and everything else I know nothing about.
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Res ipsa loquitur, sed quid in infernos dicet?*
my odd relationship with language lately has gotten me thinking about what happens when a thing gets named. by "thing" i don't just mean an object, i mean a relationship, an emotion, a thought, a space -- anything. names change things, don't they? it's why storytelling can be so powerful -- spinning experience into meaning. i suppose it's not so much that we create our own realities, but more that we learn how to understand what happens to us in such a personal, specific way.
my brother greg is a storyteller -- spent some time on the portland circuit here at libraries and cultural events. once, in my inimitable little-sister way, i mocked the importance of stories -- it's kid stuff, it's silly, it's distraction and fakery. he responded as if he'd been waiting for me to make this exact challenge (greg never backs away from a good debate)
once i saw this boy out playing in his backyard with a baseball bat and a ball, he said. he was tossing the ball in the air, swinging at it as he talked to himself in that sports announcer voice "this batter has the most homeruns of this season! folks, you are about to see something spectacular! this batter never misses!"
he tosses it up once, swings and misses the ball completely: "he always lets the first pitch go by, folks!!"
a second toss and a second miss: "this batter is a real showman! he's waiting for his pitch!"
a third toss and a third miss. the batter is clearly out, right? you can't change the rules of the game. this kid's a loser in his own story...so, he says:
"Wow! What a pitcher!"
Silly, yeah. But I think about this silly little story my brother told me a lot. How do we know how to understand ourselves? How do we change our story when something bad happens? When you are in over your head? When you are the powerless victim? When you are the cruel perpetrator?
e and i are going to the Portland Housing Center Home Buying 101 class tomorrow (brief plea to the gods- oh please i hope my ex is not there) to dive into the home buying process. i'm not sure exactly what story is unfolding here, or how to understand much of it -- but however it goes, I think the word "home" has a lovely ring to it, no?
* The thing speaks for itself, but what the hell is it saying?
posted Friday, June 23 4:44 PM
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