Cinderella at the ball

The cold affects me. So does social media. I can’t tell you how tempting it is to not push through these decisions of what to write about and how to begin and how to write about it, and instead go see about pink dots and red dots and green dots and if no dots then instead go look at what other people are doing and writing and make subtle or subconscious judgements or appraisals upon these works which I insidiously believe will enhance my own writing but I also know from experience that it just leads to a big fall down the rabbit hole with ultimately more to write about which leads to more decisions to make about what to write about and then I am back at word one

Now I’m writing for an audience again, well I needn’t complain about it I act all huffy in my head because I start out writing completely for myself to do my morning pages and get the wool out of my head that seems to fill it to bursting, literally to bursting; this morning I have such a headache, it’s as though I might as well have been a bottle of delicious, sparkling wine; well it’s not that delicious really it’s just that conditioned response has caused me to believe it’s delicious; get over it already, it’s not that great you know; well yes it is great, oh my darling crémant with your tiny mousseux bubbles, no you are not great and why are you here on the page, I wasn’t even thinking about you I was thinking about coals, tony robbins and walking on coals; why was that, it was because my sister was telling me that he will have a fire-walking event in London in April, and she and her friend E. would like to go there, but they wouldn’t want the cheap seats,

I know what that’s like because I took the kids and aunt J to a travelling circus that landed in town the other day; we started with the cheap seats but I upgraded us all to the medium seats because the cheap seats were very crowded and had not at all a good view, to be honest I don’t know how much better they ended up being as they were very uncomfortable, even for me as a small-to-average sized adult; we were sitting in very narrow bleachers, this would not have worked in america, anyway the medium seats did have a much better view, but for me the better view was dampened by the fact that some people did not also have a better view, and thinking about the lack of seating for people of more substantial mass, and also the combined cost including heavy internal marketing was relatively expensive and the advertising very misleading for what ended up being provided, for me it did not matter at this time however I remember well the days when it had, and I worried for the people around me; the poster said it would be €5 per child but the adult price was not listed; in fact I had only taken the children to this one because the price was advertised as very reasonable and the posters around town said it was a disney-themed circus and I am a big fan of disney; yes yes it’s commercialized but it takes the old tales and beauty and emotions and daily struggles to an extreme level, and that makes it consumable for the masses; the masses then get ideas for self-betterment and so on; I know because I am one of the masses; am I talking about mass now is that the new theme for this particular piece; when am I going to end this sentence,

the sentence started with the fact that I was all huffy about starting out writing for myself, writing for myself which honestly relieves headaches, my headache is now completely gone and I feel a subtle joy effusing my body,

god are you there are you there god it’s me nadine,

hello tears I don’t know why you’re here but here you are,

and here comes my headache again because I’m thinking about the fact that I will likely post this on social media, writer’s social media that is, which is blogging, it’s such a delight and feels like a lifeline but also it’s terribly frightening; yet it’s the culmination of all my dreams from three years ago, that I should be able to write and publish like this, just anything, anything at all; well back then of course I didn’t want to publish anything unless I thought it would earn me money or prestige or unless it would be high literature, and so I published nothing, and now here I am publishing everything, just everything at all, and that was the goal in the first place so I have achieved my dreams, in that way at least, money and prestige and literature be damned in the meantime; so I may not need get huffy about fulfilling part of my life’s purpose perhaps, no matter how strange or simple,

I suppose it’s time for a new paragraph now, a bit of space from that dying ember of thought; I had a dream last night that I was blocked, I felt extremely unhappy, the experience at the circus was very difficult for me; I felt sad for the circus and everyone at it, not because they were sad but because we were trying to be happy for this relatively expensive hidden-cost show which was relatively not well done, snow white was torturing birds, well not officially torturing I guess but if you’ve ever seen animals at a circus you’ll know what I mean,

but there was this one boy or young man rather, Aladdin, he did not have a magic carpet but he had a balancing act and very blue eyes and the right kind of attitude for a circus; periodically as he balanced on a plank on a rolling cylinder on a small table and as he juggled various things he would shout “Hai!” with a grin and a flash of his eyes, kind of cheering himself on and also communicating with the audience in this way, it was very enlivening and yet I became mesmerized by the way he was able to focus; it must require incredible focus to juggle flaming batons while standing on a plank that is rolling on a cylinder on a small table; his eyes remained in a kind of trancelike gaze that allowed peripheries to be seen in a kind of blur that allowed focus on a small number of things at once,

I know because I have seen something like it myself when I used to go with the kids at the park in cambridge, who was it I think it was X, my second son, he and I would get on this spinning spring thing and stare at each other across the handlebar, while it span and wobbled faster and faster, and at first I would apply that old dance-class technique of focussing on one spot in the distance while your body kept turning but your head remained still until the last minute, there must have been a word for that trick in ballet and I now force myself not to go online to look it up; no it’s not the exorcist or anything like that,

why must I mention the exorcist I cannot stand scary movies nor anything of the kind, you should never mention anything you don’t want to see more of in the world, that’s what law of attraction says, I understand this but I also forgive myself and others for without any mud there wouldn’t be any lotus; that is the meaning of my blog tagline by the way, it is that I am allowing my blog to encompass the bad, the good and the in between, the in between is the pale golden blue; should I explain that last part, well I think another time perhaps; I don’t want it to be too obnoxiously long, then I should better be publishing this as a book,

why have I not made a book, I don’t know, GUG, are you there GUG, Esmerelda, dearest love, no you don’t like to be called dearest love, ok well why not, well because it’s saccharine okay well fine I’ll try my best not to, my headache is coming back that means I’m blocked from god, I would love to finish this sentence but I don’t know how, blinking cursor

oh but I forgot to tie up the spinning thing; this was the trick, I stopped using the ballet technique and instead allowed my eyes to focus on what was just in front of me, that was my son X, and allowed the rest to remain blurred but still present in the background, it was as though I could see everything at once and that allowed me not to obsess on a single point and yet I was able to enjoy the main beautiful thing in front of me, which was at that time the radiant face of my spinning son, spinning together with me; the world seemed as one and I was not at all dizzy, his eyes were very wide and blue,

I have not written half the things I meant to write about, I don’t know when to stop, I wouldn’t stop if I didn’t worry about others, I would keep going on and on and on like jack kerouac did for three weeks when he wrote “on the road,” he wrote in a room for three weeks and his wife brought him soup and booze, something like that, and they taped together paper in one long roll so he wouldn’t even have to change the paper going through the typewriter; this was before word processors; imagine what he could accomplish now if he were still alive, not dead from booze,

anyway that bit about tony robbins and the coals came to mind because when I came downstairs I first stoked the coals in the wood stove, and at first I thought, it’s tasks like these that get in the way of writing, because one task leads to another if you let it, first you stoke the coals, then you empty the ash, then you sweep the floor, then you clear the clutter from the counters, then you organize the cans in the cupboard; this is what happened yesterday and was why I didn’t write till much later,

however this morning I only stoked the coals, adding the biggest log from the pile since the coals were very hot and I knew the big log would light; this involved unstacking the smaller logs that were on top of it, it involved putting on work gloves, kept haphazardly in the tinder box, and I thought oh wouldn’t life be grand if we had central heat and I should not have to deal with ash and cinders, burning cinders which had fallen on our concrete floor and which I was tempted to pick up with my bare hands upon thinking of fire-walkers, but yesterday the coals burned me a little, and so I thought it better not to try,

anyway it is in fact the cold and the coals which allowed me to write, and now it is not cold here anymore, the coals have taken care of that, the wood and words and worlds are ablaze like flying torches and I am Cinderella at the ball.

______

Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Zone of Emptiness, France. If you wish to contribute and/or show appreciation, please recommend/like and/or comment — or send email via the contact page. Thank you for reading. ❤︎

 

 

 

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