i haven't been diligently following my routines. this past weekend, i focused more on other things, like landscaping and gardening. i got some marigolds and some edible herbs, and planted them among my edible vegetable crops, because i'd heard that it was a natural way to prevent pests from consuming the crops. i also (yesterday) got some shower curtains and placed them around the fish tanks in my aquaponics stations to reduce water loss from all the splashing. the splashing of the water as it drops from the grow bed is actually quite essential, because it helps to oxygenate the water.
sunday was also father's day, so i took a big break from doing a lot of my routines for that too.
i got my hair cut on sunday. my wife thinks i look great. i guess i look good too. i decided to keep my top long, and just have the barber cut my sides and back (those were getting pretty long, covering up my ears). i had the top styled with mousse so it rises up, and doesn't just flop down... well, we'll see how long this lasts, but it is always so nice to have a good hair style...
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i have been listening to david sedaris's master class... i think i do agree with a lot of what he says. in this latest "class," he talked about writing about people you know. he actually had a short talk session with his sister lisa. one of my big takeaways was that you should write about people that you like. he decidedly does NOT write about people that he does not like- unless they happen to be dead. that doesn't mean that you faun over your subjects- not at all. for example, he wrote about his mother's alcoholism... and he loves his mother. he stated it in an interesting and insightful way. he said that writing about people's faults makes them more complex. but that complexity is what makes people real and relatable.
i know i have been struggling to write about my brother. i guess a lot of it is because i'm in a bad place with him right now, and have been for a long time. i also don't foresee anything getting any better, relationship wise. so i guess that when i write about him, i am struggling to hold back some real hurt and hatred, and what ends up happening is the narrative becomes very muted and confused. i often ask myself, what is it i'm trying to say about my brother? am i trying to portray him as some kind of monster? (he's not, although he may have done some monstrous things.) i don't know. but perhaps that's where sedaris is right. you can't, or shouldn't, write about people you don't like- not ONLY because it's probably not morally right (because when you write about someone, they can't speak their side of the story), but also because it just doesn't work out practically. hatred tends to flatten the subject, so you only talk about a caricature... and no matter what, no matter how you try to compensate for it by, say, throwing in one flattering comment or something, you can't hide the fact that you've flattened the story, and added a slant, that you're portraying so-and-so as an asshole.
i guess that also gets to what my place is in the story. i guess i try to be self-deprecating, but only in an endearing way, not in a way that leads to or results from any authentic self-reflection. it is sort of like the positing of innocence. like, i was such an innocent five year old, there is no fault or sin in me... boo hoo...
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that having been said, i did have a few ideas:
- a vignette about the near drowning i had... only, to end with him (my brother) telling me to stand up.
- something about my mother... and her ambiguous relationship with religion. when she was young, she pretty much despised organized religion, as represented and espoused by my grandmother (tenrikyo). but now, she is a hardcore evangelist. the irony- or whatever- is disconcerting to say the least.
- i guess something about my mother, related to the schedule she wrote out for me on this piece of cardboard. and how i held on to that religiously... you know what, maybe it influenced me more thoroughly than i realized. i still, to this day, try to organize my time by making routines, to cover all my bases, as it were. i feel that, without such structure, i am nothing, vulnerable to neglect and guilt... but i recall this time when i was in the back trunk area of a station wagon, surrounded by my friends at the time (from first grade? second grade?), and how the car "jumped" from hopping the curb or something, and my birthday cake (from mcdonalds) got smashed... and it was so stupid, but when i saw the frosting all coating the underside of the lid, that ronald mcdonald image all but obliterated, i started to cry... in front of all of these boys... and i don't know why, but i couldn't stop... i'm not sure why that image comes up, but it is somehow tied to that cardboard schedule. maybe it was there with me in the trunk, and i looked at it, and held it as some sort of security blanket or something... jeez, was i a messed up sensitive basket case.
- i guess i could write about homecoming. the fact that i was taking my brother's shifts cleaning the portables on homecoming day, so he could celebrate and be with his cool friends... and how he took my paychecks anyway. what an asshole.
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oh well, i guess i've got to get going.
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