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To Blog or Not to Blog
On August 24, 2015 by Speranza
I haven’t been here for a while (hola, you ten faithful readers in Brazil who keep on visiting!) and I have no excuse, save the fact that my blogging mojo has been seriously depleted of late and I have devoted more time than I care to admit to feeling badly about my writing and being completely intimidated by other more polished blogs and writers who look edgy and are all geometric-hipster-haircuts and matte lip colour.
I’ve been writing on and off my whole life and certainly I have been published regularly in that short blasts of non-fiction/fiction here and there kind of way but it’s not really satisfying to me. It’s like making do with cheese and crackers and pretending it’s enough when actually, you are still starving; in fact, it’s like you are pretending you even like cheese and crackers in the first place.
I don’t know why short fiction has an inferiority complex but to me it does. I want the depth of a novel behind me, something I can point at and say, there, see that? I wrote that and there is my name and photo even if the same book is now wedged in the remainder bin …
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Happy Birthday Bodhisattvas!
On June 8, 2015 by Speranza
Last night we celebrated a double birthday dinner for my Best Friend in the World and my eldest, Frasier’s 24 years, a fact that fills me with such strong emotion that I am unsure how to carry it or how to process.
It’s such a cliché to hear so many mums lamenting throughout the years about how fast time goes and since this is one of the worst things that one can say to a new mother strung out on no sleep I can proudly say, that I have never said it myself – honestly – but the fact is? It’s the icy, shocking, can’t-believe-this-is-happening-to-ME truth. One minute I was running down the street with a forgotten lunch bag or volunteering on a school bus trip, breathing in the heady smell of little-kids’-feet and strawberry Chapstick for two hours and now here I am surrounded by colleagues and a Significant Other who are all quoting gloomy economic forecasts, consulting charts and obsessing about retirement. How did I allow this passing of time to happen without holding on to key moments more tightly than I did? When am I ever going to be pretty now? Why do my ankles suddenly swell for no good reason, lending that camel-feet look to every outfit? Will I soon begin cultivating an interest in supportive underwear? When exactly is my writing career going to take off in earnest– and how long can I keep kidding myself that this is even a thing? I mean how pretentious to even try, my inner voices accuse darkly, pointing out the futility of this very blog, as a feeble exercise in self-absorption. Oh and why is it only about shaved or regular slice at the deli counter now, when it used to be about looking up from under my lashes at the swarthy and romance-cover-worthy butcher?
Now the butcher seems to be only eleven and wants me to hurry up, already, between the stone-roast ham or the Black Forest.
Being A Girl . Self-Esteem
Not Just Another Mouth in the Lipstick Vogue
On November 10, 2014 by Speranza
Honestly, there’s nothing like a trip to Sephora to raise the spirits after both an appalling week at work and all those sinking moments of time spent watching the current world news. (For which I can find no satisfactory method of dealing with apart from healthy, regular shots of denial). Historical justifications, finger pointing and frantic hopping trips to news sites across the web have all proved hugely unhelpful to me. People who offer compact, intellectual summary statements are exceptionally irritating because, really, nothing is that simple, is it? The best advice I have heard thus far – apart from going on a total news fast – seems to be making a relentless effort to be absolutely the best person you can be, in your own day-to-day life. It’s the only strategy that makes sense – apart from letter writing and lobbying obviously – and really, it’s sort of a mash-up of that grassroots notion of “Think Globally, Act Locally” which I also love.
But I digress. Because perhaps I could do a much better job if I had a really top-notch lipstick.
Getting Older . Music
Little Triggers
On September 19, 2014 by Speranza
When I was 35 I distinctly remember believing – and I mean actually believing – that I was likely not going to age much more. It’s this kind of absolute conviction that allowed me to continue to wear those band t-shirts (Elvis Costello, The Clash, The Pretenders) possibly longer than I should have and to separate myself from those around me who may have already succumbed to floppy gym pants and soccer-mom haircuts. (These are always touted as ‘wash and wear’ but the truth is, if you’re not careful the whole family will end up with basically the very same do …)