Eh, hem. 2011.

Tomorrow is it--the last day of the year. I am excited to say GOOD-BYE and I usually hate good-bye's. While there were many good things in 2010, I'm ready for this year to be over. I think there were too many things I didn't do in 2010. Too many times I didn't write an idea down and flesh it out. Too many times I wished to have stayed a little longer. Too many times I didn't pay attention. Too many times I felt too slow, too encumbered, too inward. Oddly enough I felt this country's deficit reflected in my own...except hopefully on a much smaller scale:-). I am not meaning to be a Debbie Downer, because on the other hand, 2011. I want to stay with things awhile. I want to write about the lacking pattern in love. We think, "Oh, this is what I love, and how I love it, and why I love it," but then there's the very grand entrance of changing our minds. And I kinda really love that luxury. I wanna make a poem about my husband's first boyhood job at 11...delivering The Knickerbocker newspaper in Troy, New York. I think it's just the best thing that there was a newspaper called The Knickerbocker and this skinny, little 11-year-old felt so big and independent having his first job. He and his brother used the newspaper money to buy fat, salami sandwiches on Friday's at the corner store near their home. His life was far from Norman Rockwell, but the picture Ess Gee creates as a boy is quite close. I want to write about evangelical Christianity, the beginning years when it reared it's head, and why it might have come out as the creature it is/was, and why it is so rebelled against now by those who never believed in it, and by those who once did. The culture of the time--60's/70's--had taken on such extremities compared to the decade before, why would not a faith do the same? I have been on a wonderful, lopsided ride reading about the life of Alfred Hitchcock. One book called Spellbound by Beauty tells about Hitchcock's relationships with all his blond headed leading ladies. He meticulously made them. He knew the color they should wear, the shoe they would put on, and the exact blond they should be. He commanded these details, BUT he knew the strongest element in his films would be the psychology of such details. He learned from silent German films that image was story. Yes, yes, snippets of things to come.
Welcome 2011. I hope to treat you kindly, with warmth, good regard, the patience of Father Time. And I hope to be treated the same;-).