Art & Life by Sue Davis

I was reading a book to Max today, and it hit me how clear everything is in a fictitious narrative. You can see immediately when a character is acting immorally or in a way that will lead to trouble. That fact is not too disturbing, however, since you can easily determine why the character is acting inappropriately. You are aware that the destructive chain of events will serve an ultimate purpose. There will be a benefit to the suffering experienced by the characters. They have their parts to play and must act in certain ways in order for the author to use them to deliver his or her message.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have that same insight into our own lives: to realize that you act in certain ways for a reason and know that it’s all for the best. I am no determinist by any means. I think it’s more a matter of perspective: seeing the big picture and realizing that our actions are never without purpose.

I guess this is the kind of stuff I think about when I am not reading text books. How many more days until Winter classes start?

 Sue

We have all heard that expression as it relates to the release of endorphins during excercise. I would say that I experience clarity when I run, and a torrential flow of creativity (well, sometimes the flow is more like a trickle, but I’ll take what I can get). Maybe that is the same concept as “the high”. I guess if the thoughts appear stupid or embarassing in retrospect, that could qualify as a high of sorts. Most of my musings, however, hold up pretty well into the future (at least in my mind).

So today I was thinking about “destiny”. People ask me what I’m going to do with a masters degree in liberal arts. I have no ready answer. I am hoping it will come to me as I progress. But here’s a thought: what if there is no capital d, Destiny? What if there are just a bunch of little, quiet, destinies along the way to wherever? I think the thing I learned in my last class was that there are no Big Changes, only piecemeal changes.

There may be no significant career transition, or any such marker for me when I graduate. The alteration process may be so gradual and unexpected that I wind up in a different place without ever realizing that I have switched locations. We shall see… 

Sue

It’s Thanksgiving at my house this year. I thought I’d make a pilgrimage, so to speak, by making cream puffs like granny used to make. The recipe is hand written in pencil, very cool and nostalgic. That’s where the nostalgia ends. Let’s just say my cream puffs are definitely a lauging matter.

They resembled dense tennis balls as they cooked. Not a good sign. I amused myself with my cooking ineptitude. I don’t know, maybe when I was a little kid they just appeared bigger and puffier because I was small.

I kept putting them back in the oven, hoping for some miracle of inflation to occur. No such luck. Well, to be honest, I had one little mini-puff hollow enough to be filled. But hardly worth making pudding for. Sorry little guy.

Maybe some things are better left in our memories (like cooking). My creation tastes like quiche. Hmmm, dinner anyone? Ah well, there’s always store-bought pumpkin pie. Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Sue

Dance frog warning. That’s what Teddy said the other morning as we were watching our favorite television show, the weather channel. Actually, it was a dense fog warning. See, he has this stuffed frog named Bill Frog (yes, he named him) with personality, plus dance ability. Thus the play on words.

The other day I was sitting on the couch reading and I heard the kids playing upstairs with this hideous hand puppet named Frogstie. The thing has a hole in its head where the kids inserted a marble to serve as a brain. Needless to say it fell out long ago. In Frogsties falsetto voice I hear “Shut the #!*&^! up!” I yelled “Teddy! What did I just hear?” Frogstie answered “Sorry!” and the play continued. That kid! I guess I shouldn’t laugh, but I do. At least he doesn’t hear me.

More to come. There’s always more to come with these kids.

Sue

I guess I needed a good laugh. Not just a chuckle, or a 2 second outburst; a real, take your glasses off and wipe the tears from your eyes laugh. You know what I mean, one of those semi-insane, contagious, and easily repeated laughing jags.

Heres how it went. I had been reading and studying for weeks on end, never taking time to relax, flop on the couch with the family and watch some mindless, dare I say,
non-educational, television. Apparently I had reached maximum threshold. We were watching “My Name is Earl”, season one, episode  14 called ”Monkeys in Space”. Randy was trying to find his purpose in life by trying out a variety of odd jobs. He took a job as a human guinea pig; a subject for cosmetics testing. He was sitting in a chair as the clinician approached him with a tray covered in what appeared to be red dust, perhaps crushed jalepno peppers. The tester unexpectedly blew all of the powder into Randy’s face. He told Randy to call him in a few days when his vision returned. That’s when I exploded into hysterical laughter. I think I took my kids by surprise. They both looked at me as if I had finally lost it. Then they started laughing too. Eventually we managed to stop.

Soon after, Randy was shown back in his hotel room, sitting down, sightless, eating chicken from a takeout container on his lap. He was unaware that his friend Catalina was seated across from him; she quietly reached over and grabbed a piece of chicken from his box. Suprised, he vaulted out of his chair, scattering food every which way. The laughter started all over again.

 I don’t think I should wait so long before relaxing next term.

Sue

While a picture may be worth a thousand words, those words and that picture are not nearly as powerful as our own ability to imagine meaning.

If it’s true what they say about a clean house signifying a wasted life, then my life is anything but wasted. I have been accused of pursuing higher education in order to legitimately escape the drudgery of domestic duties. There is only so much time in a day, I feel, and the less time spent on housecleaning, the better. While I may not be taking classes to excuse my lack of diligence in the area of housely duties, I do remember being chased by my older sister as I ran out of the house shrieking, “I won’t clean the bathroom! I won’t!” True story, just ask her. Fortunately this occurred eons ago, as opposed to yesterday.

Recently an acquaintance offered to come over to my house and pick up some movies that were needed for a class. Now, I may be comfortable with a less than tidy environment, but, I certainly would not subject an innocent bystander to my chaos. In fact as I look into the living room, I see a cadre of 8 panda bears that the kids have placed on every horizontal surface they could find. Upon closer inspection I see a stuffed turtle and a chicken as well. They must have been included for diversity. So, I told him I would be glad to deliver the movies to his office.

I know that I should be doing a thousand other things right now, including housecleaning. But I find that if I don’t release these thoughts from the confines of my mind, they will just fester. Maybe they will get infected too, I don’t know. So the best thing to do is purge my brain, and then do some homework. Aaah, nothing like a tidy mind.

Sue