As promised Ode to Rocks
Thinking about the Rock in Ann Arbor.
On its own it was a pretty cool big rock. But through the years it has become so much more.
It is covered with layers of paint. So many events and reasons that people paint
the rock.
Like brains are apt to do, mine made a connection between
the rock and my blog (note my mind also connected my work to Michelangelo’s so
it has an uncanny to bridge and connect things that would seem impossible to
bridge).
So I was thinking a blog kind of starts off like the rock in
Ann Arbor, cool for its own merit but just a rock or idea at first.
Each layer of paint on the rock tells a story, shares
memories, and affects the viewers.
It has become a legend because of those layers, even though
some layers were downright ugly:
whereas others were incredibly beautiful:
I see my blog with each article being a layer of paint, not
impressive on its own for the most part, but with each layer a little more
value is created, it becomes something greater than what it started. Each
article is like a layer of paint.
Together those articles become something much greater than
the rock. Each layer has a story. Some layers might be a little lame, but have
an awesome story behind it, create an amazing memory, or change the
writer/painter in some way...
So like giving a mouse a cookie, if you give Karen a blog,
she’s going to want to write about rocks and if she starts writing about rocks
she’s is going to talk about rock camp.
So one time at Rock Camp… (yeah that’s right I did go to
rock camp)
As a child, we would go on family walks. A few blocks away there was a rock. What we used to call the big rock.
I loved that big rock.
I would stand on it and imagine things and feel
Interesting how when I see that big rock, how small it
looks. I try to imagine how I saw it
with such wonder.
It’s crazy how awareness and perspective change. How easy it is to lose that sense of wonder.
My perhaps alltime favorite movie character: The
Rockman
Because of his kindness, and his vulnerability, and of
course his big strong hands. “These looked like such bring strong hands.
As they would say in Tonga, fakaofa, fakaofa aupitoL
Note: Hidden agenda: making my blogs overly flowery so guest
bloggers will be forced to volunteer awesome content to make me stop.
Bab’s Corner
Literal v. Figurative I absolutely love overhearing someone
use literally blatantly wrong over and over.
Not a judgey person, at least I hope not, but that always
makes me laugh and become a little smug (although I have no room to be smug due
to my background where phrases like “I says to the guy” were acceptable. And an
inability to appropriately determine if I’m doing good or well ((I do know good
is an adjective and if I logically think about it I can get there, but it takes
a while and I appear even slower if I cannot respond to a how are you within a
minute…) As well as a habit of starting sentences with And, but.
Soooo I discussed some literal rocks and now for a
figurative rock. My mother.
Who is such a lovely strong woman.
She literally is the kindest person I have ever met. Never speaking poorly about anyone and always caring too much. I did have an interview and ridiculously
answered one of my weaknesses is that I care too much. It slipped out and is blatantly untrue. But my mother does care too much.
She is a kindergarten teacher. I subbed for her class for one week and
literally would have died if I subbed more, it is a heroing job not for the
weak!
She recently tore something in her knee that will require
surgery.
But she is not a complainer.
She limps from place to place (fakaofa aupito) with a smile on her face.
And on occasion she gets to use a cart. Bab's at Costco (Fellow shoppers be warned!)