I am part of a local writer’s group, and this week we conspired to do our prompt writing a little differently. When Dave handed out the prompt picture, we all wrote on an additional secret theme: how much we appreciate Dave’s efforts to keep our little group thriving. It was a rather sweet and earnest tribute. Dave smiled. Here’s what I had to say:
A year ago this time I was in a grey world. My eyes had filmed over with a lead colored layer of sadness. Big, grey eyes looking out and big, grey eyes looking in, searching for signs of life, but seeing only a flat dull palate everywhere. A crack in this world appeared when I started writing. Something, still vital, still lived, too deeply hidden to see, but still able to crack the surface world open through the tectonic force of creativity. I showed up in a local writers group, run by the fearless leader Dave. This group got water down into the crack, and reminded that buried piece that there is, after all, a world to inhabit with its own color. So here’s to Dave, who waters the colors of the world. Watercolorers get their own gallery shows, but Dave is a color waterer, its own important art form.
I’m part of a local writers group and each week we write spontaneously for about 15 minutes on a prompt supplied by our fearless leader, Dave. Here’s what I had to say about this picture one Saturday afternoon:
Two very similar looking figures are gesturing at each other. They are having a very meaningful discussion about the nature of truth and perspective and reality. It could be a poignant reminder of a poster hung in my father’s office, which reads: Other cultures are not failed attempts to be you. How true, and how important. I love that poster, and the fact that my dad chose it. What an opportunity to have a moment of sincere contemplation. Why, then, am I distracted by the single main difference between the two figures? One has the letters “gp” stamped in contrasting color at his or her lower trunk region, if you know what I mean. I have to assume that it stands for genital patch, and lets me know who in the tableau is pro-shaving and who is pro-bush. This strikes me as an odd controversy to obliquely reference in the middle of this otherwise rarified discussion, but let’s go for it.
Brazilians, man-scaping, laser hair removal, and all manner of very personal grooming has become the standard way people interact with one specific secondary sex characteristic. The rest of them, the breasts and deep voices and whatnot, are welcomed but this fuzzy demonstration of adulthood has become yucky somehow. Well, I see the debate raging on this page and I am firmly on the side of GP. With the time we save by not participating in this nonsense, we can eat more ice cream and read more books. That means that whatever perspective we’ve chosen to get behind will be heftier (from the ice cream) and more well-informed (from the reading). We are in it to win it, so I think we’re looking at a 9 here, people. Fuzzy forever, bitches.