Meri's Musings

Twelve Days of Mary Our Lady of the Shopping Trip

Not having found either Mr. Right or Mr. All-Right-for-Now, I had almost forgotten what love is. Now I know. Turns out you can buy it (the Beatles were wrong) And cook it. And cover it with marinara or maybe a little pesto or garlic aioli and shave some zesty Parmesan atop it and eat it. Now there's something I can sink my teeth into. Too bad there's an expiration date. 

I'm off on a jaunt today to take pictures of beautiful people with skin tones not as white as mine, so the website I work for can show its commitment to diversity. And since I'm putting others on the spot, capturing them in all their glory, (and we all know how much we hate seeing photos of ourselves unless they match our image of ourselves) I figured I should post a self-portrait. Yup. That's me. I'm the one in the coat, not the one looking flirty in a swimsuit. You'd never recover if you viewed a picture of me in a swimsuit.

This 55-word stuff is incredibly challenging.  Even if you get a concept quickly,  executing the idea in such a spare format  requires editing and re-editing, constant counting.  55 words, no more, no fewer.  What stays and what's surplus?  Always mindful that every word has to count.  Plot trumps description.  Cohesive narrative required.  Yet for all the brevity,   you want to insert a twist,  bring an unexpected guest to the table. Doodles. © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian. All rights reserved. He went first. The graphoanalyst told them what to write. She studied the exemplars, then said,   "Your wife is incredibly brilliant." She paused. "What does she see in you?" Chuckle. "Oh, I see. You're an animal." Right on both counts. Leopard man.  Once lithe and agile. Sexy.   New substitute wife. Dumb blonde. Same old spots.

It's been a while since I posted a self-portrait on Wednesday in the tradition started by Misty Mawn. Is anyone still playing along? I hope so. These "self-portrait" posts, difficult as they are at first because you're exposing yourself to strangers, are just marvelous. I just love reading these posts on other people's blogs. They're so telling, so revealing. The pictures show us one way of looking at you. The words tell us who you think you are, what you think about whatever it is you're thinking about, what emotions bubble to the surface when you're unguarded. But I also think that in a very significant way, all of my posts are self-portraits because they give you a glimpse of how the world looks through my eyes, what seems worthy of mentioning, where a stray thought leads me as I meander in my mind. Yours reveal yourself in the same way. I hope my posts also give you a hint of my humor and show me in all my glory. But if not. . . well, here's a ...

I know a lot of you believe that the Universe sends us little messages through ordinary things. And who knows, maybe that's true. The other day, I stopped at a bistro to grab a quick bowl of soup because I was starving but wanted to make a film that started in only half an hour so anything else was out of the question.. The host, hearing my time crunch issue, said to sit anywhere and he'd grab me a bowl of the soup of the day personally. So I headed to the back, where they display local artists' work and there's a great view of Commencement Bay. And he brought me a bowl of delicious mushroom soup and some strawberry lemonade. As soon as I dipped my spoon, I noticed "the sign. " It was a perfect little heart, a mushroom heart. All the other bits of mushrooms were ovals or just bits and pieces. So I thought, "Well, obviously, given my posts lately, this has to be a sign from the universe." The question is, is the Universe telling me "Take heart....