ThrowBackThursday: Rediscovering Where I’ve Been

If I’m truly honest, I have to admit that I’ve never really been a big fan of the whole #ThrowBackThursday trend. I think hashtags are a good idea in principle, although widely misused/ overused. And in general, I’ve viewed the pictures and references posted by others to document their pasts with only mild interest on my part, if I paid any attention to them at all. So, I have prepared myself for the many cries of “hypocrite!, sellout!, and poser!!!” that are sure to come from this, my very first #ThrowBackTursday post.

 

It’s going on midnight here in Atlanta and after agonizing over this decision all day, I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe I was wrong. Yes, hashtags and throwbacks are trendier than ever, these days. But separate from the PR implications, I’m just now realizing that I’ve been doing quite a bit of “Mental Throw-backing” – yes, I just made up that phrase – over the past few months and it’s been good for me! I’ve been looking back. A lot. And not the unhealthy dwelling on past mistakes that we all can sometimes do, but the cathartic cleansing that helps us gain clarity and move forward even better than we were. I’ve rediscovered the things from my past that worked really well; the things that represent me at my core and make me unique. And in uncovering those things, I realize that I want to share them. With all of you especially.

 

So what’s one of the first things I’m re-learning about myself? That I am a writer. Duh, you may say. And I get it. I am sitting here writing an entry for my blog, after all. It should be obvious that I’m a writer. But I don’t think I’ve always appreciated that fact. Because I’m an artist too. And the artist in me has more than a mild case of Attention Deficit Disorder (Read: Rabbits In My Mind). I’m a dancer, and a musician, and a sketch artist, and an innovator, and a creator of all things beautiful – even the ugly parts of life – and all of that ART has a tendency to blur my vision. But when I can see clearly, I am reminded that at my core I am a writer. First and foremost, to the very depths of my being, my first love has always been the Written Word. Which makes it fitting that this my first #ThrowBackThursday post should take a look back at the writer I’ve always been.

 

Late Night Snack

2:00am and I can’t sleep.

No choice but to do what I do best.

devour the Words that are running through my mind.

It is simple really;

Dissect each syllable, Fillet every letter,

then Swallow the meat of it

whole.

 

God, how I love Words!

 

And not just some Words

or a few sentences.

But I would gladly eat them all,

if it meant that I could savor

each

of the different tastes

and textures.

 

You see, English is a chewy language.

It sits

at the front of my mouth

patiently waiting to be shredded

into even strips by a pair of pearly bicuspids.

At times,

it is boring and dry.

The tough piece of steak

that requires work

in exchange for satisfaction.

But I prefer to think of it

as that first bite

into a Bubblicious square.

Listen:

“I – Want – To – Go – To – Sleep.”

True,

the Words are a little stiff and precise.

But who do you know

that ever turned down

a Jaw Breaker

for fear of actually breaking their jaw?

That

is the beauty of English.

that. first. perfect. bite.

 

God, how I do love Words!

 

Spanish,

on the other hand,

is Chocolate

balanced on the center of my tongue.

Warm and Melting,

it is a sweet reminder

of New York City;

and Home.

Bodegas and Religious Botanicas

Summer Block Parties and Errant Fire Hydrants,

and Secrets Whispered on Front Stoops

to the tune of

Double Dutch.

Not to mention the

Loud Mouthed Beauty Salons

full of Wide Hips

Dancing to Marc Anthony, and Passing

around Never-Ending Plates

of Pastelillos.

 

And all this

compactly wrapped

into the single Rolled “R”

that flows from my lips.

 

Oye:

“EstoyMuyCansado,

YSiNoConsigueSuenoPronto,

MeVoyAIrLoca!

 

Can’t you just Taste it?

The rich Flavor of

the Words

that almost makes you want to

lick

your fingers

after each bite.

 

That

is Spanish.

Chocolate,

balanced on the center of my tongue.

 

Ay! Como me encanta Las Palabras!

 

And then,

There is French.

mouthwash

at the Back of my Throat

that somehow manages to sound

Romantic.

 

“Puet-etre,

si je me ferme mes yeux

et sommeil de moutons

de compte viendront.”

 

I don’t even know

if I said that right,

but I must admit,

I am entranced!

 

Such is French!

The language of aging

Casanova’s everywhere.

 

Dieu, comment j’aime des mots!

 

I have heard

that there is nothing so perfect

as a late night snack

to cure insomnia.

But somehow,

I think This is much more satisfying.

 

God, how I love words!

Maybe,

even more

than the Elusive Sleep

I am forfeiting by staying up to write this!

 

cS – August 12 (Early AM), 2008

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