Category Archives: Writing
First, I start off with an apology. I’m probably the worst person with consistency in anything, unless I have deadlines. This is a pure confession, but I can offer nothing more.
Now, I’ve been finding myself wanting to reflect about the past year over the past few weeks, but one of the things you shouldn’t do to yourself when you’re sick is make your brain work. While I’m not to 100% capacity, I can’t find myself stalling any longer.
Something about my day has had me thinking of And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. It was one of my favorite Dr. Seuss books growing up (behind Hop on Pop, of course) because it was about the imagination. The thing is, my morning was a lot like it. It started with a call to the boyfriend, “you’re probably not going to believe what I just saw on the Boulevard.”
“The Boulevard” is Southwest Boulevard- a strip of road in Downtown Kansas City that hops both sides of the state line. It starts as 19th street off Baltimore Avenue on the Missouri side and continues southwest to 39th street in Kansas, where it becomes Merriam Lane. It passes through the Crossroads (noted as our arts district), the West Side neighborhood, and Rosedale. It has origins that date back to 1872 and has been in its current incarnation since two property owners provided a link between Kansas City Avenue and Kansas City Boulevard back in 1887.
The Boulevard is home to Boulevard Beer (a Kansas City staple since 1989), The Roasterie (delicious coffee), and some of the most amazing Mexican restaurants and grocery stores (Rosedale and Westside are heavily Hispanic communities) as well as a barbeque joint or two (it is Kansas City, after all). I’ve always had a fondness for this part of town (especially being one with a love for authentic Mexican food and an unnatural love affair with horchata), but this day has been something else.
First thing this morning, I was thinking ahead to the wedding of one of my best friends and I manage to miss my exit. Yeah, I’m glad I figured it out only one exit down. But it’s okay because I had planned for it to take about 45 minutes to get to work…it only really takes me about 20-30 minutes to get here. (What a change from the rest of the week…one day I left an hour early to arrive 10 minutes late.)
Today I’m working off of Rainbow Boulevard, one of the streets that intersects with Southwest and I decided to start my day with a quick run to QuikTrip (yeah, I know, that one was a gimme). As soon as I was parked, I placed that call to the boyfriend. “You’re probably not going to believe what I just saw on the Boulevard.”
His reaction was as simple as mine, “really?!”
Lunch is always a cause for celebration. Whenever I’m around someplace with so many places to discover, I’m usually thrilled. Now, today, I had brought my lunch (a buffalo chicken wrap that was delicious from earlier in the week) and it turned out to have not kept well in the refrigerator. I had to find an alternative. Cue the questing music!
Probably the best thing about the Boulevard is the surreal world you enter. The streets are lined with colorful murals, unique buildings, and odd…decorations. For instance, I learned something new about one of my favorite producers of coffee today: The Roasterie has a plane on top of it. I promise, I’m not smoking something wacky, there’s video evidence of it!
Let me tell you, this was a more eye-boggling experience than the Weinermobile…and THAT one was crazy. Between the plane and the colors, it was as if the artwork of the place was coming alive. I felt transported to a different world altogether and my world shifted into a sense of enlightenment. It was uplifting, joyous, and thrilling.
Finally I settled on a place called “Taqueria Mexico” and popped in. It had a bit of a feel like other Mexican places closer to home…a little too laminated. Things were a little too official, not very home-y or hole-in-the-wall feeling. You know what, though? The food was good. And they had horchata. And it was the size of my head.
And, you know, driving back had a palpable sense of wonder to it, I felt as though I was traveling through a tunnel. Perhaps it was a tunnel of time or a tunnel of existence, but it felt as thought something changed in me. Perhaps something greater was speaking to me in this feeling of words and images, but I know today was an amazing day- even despite the little wrongs. After all, had I not missed my exit or had I packed a lunch worth eating I would have missed half of my day.
And to think that I saw it on Southwest Boulevard…
Yup, I know, long time no write. Life happens and tends to get in the way of plans. But today, I’ve got something on my mind.
You know, they say you should always write about what you know. I’ve been seeking knowledge for years, always pushing myself in one way or another. I have pushed myself into learning about history, mythology, theology, science, health, politics, art, and much more. I’ve studied everything from the stories of faeries to the lives of prolific authors, I know the difference between whiskey and whisky, and I can navigate between point A and B in my hometown with my eyes closed. The hardest part is what I don’t know. By personality and character flaw, I’m loath to admit something I don’t understand or readily have knowledge of- oftentimes I gloss over these moments. But, there is a problem with my lack of a particular subject. No, I’m not troubled that I don’t understand advanced trigonometry or that I am not well-versed in programming languages- it’s something much more troubling:
I don’t know myself.
Perhaps it is the root of my writer’s block or the thing which keeps me just unorganized enough to never finish my stories. Maybe it’s not blocking me at all and is just an excuse. Regardless, it’s troubling.
I’ve been seeking myself for years, but instead often find myself seeking else. I start down one path and end up walking down five others. It is as if I have gone into the woods with a destination in mind, only to find myself diverting to chase after an animal or follow the sound of a stream. Having wandered, confused, I am now curled in the roots of a tree, protecting and sheltering myself from the villains that have come and gone in the night. Those who once walked beside me now hunt me and haunt me, long gone on different paths I might or might not have taken. I feel as though I seek comfort in familiarity, but it’s doing me no good in the big picture of things. I drive myself forward in spurts, frustration getting the better of me and sending me from my so-called safety. My emotions are letting fear get the better of me and I’m done with it.
But, what do I know?
Well, I managed to survive the weekend. I’m still not 100% sure how, especially since the earliest I got to be was about 1:30am. I must be some sort of magic. Or something.
Blondie’s moved in, I got to see my Molly, and I got to hang out drinking and sharing my love of wine with those adventurous enough to take on the Delaware Wine Walk (okay, well, those who really felt like just showing up, but…hey…it sounded cooler to make it seem daring). I also got to ride my first roller coaster in years (it really just makes me sad that I’ve not been on one in so long…). But the main theme of the weekend? Thinking.
Yeah, it’s surprising considering all that was going on, but I guess I pulled out the multitasking. My biggest thought was pretty simple: I wish I didn’t have to work. I realize many people have that same thought, but I don’t just mean for the sleep in until noon and lounge around in my underwear aspect. I mean I really want to be able to just write for a living. I’m sick of the paycheck to paycheck grind. While my day job isn’t exactly difficult, nor is it a bad one (on the contrary, I actually work for an amazing company doing something I’m pretty darn good at), it’s just not what I want to do.
I spent three hours talking about wine basically nonstop on Saturday. It felt like five minutes, really. I could do that all day! The inspiration hit me again that I need to be writing more seriously about this stuff, that I need to restart The Lush…Certified, or something…just do something at the very least! Then reality kicked in. I’m already trying to balance my time with SciFi4Me (a job I love even more than my day job) and personal writing, as well as maintaining my apartment and bills along with attempting fiction writing (oh, and a nonfiction project that’s not really gone anywhere yet). With all of that and helping out with anything else (such as the Delaware Wine Walk), I just don’t have time to do it. Especially considering the amount of work that goes into a lot of those articles, I’d be stretching myself pretty thin. It’s harsh reality, but, with my current needs, I just don’t see myself pulling it off…at least in the sense of doing the topic any justice. Would anyone like to just pay me to write? 🙂
Thoughts? Suggestions? Should I restart The Lush…Certified, or at least something in that sense?