The year was off to a promising start…quiet, relaxed, filled with the promise of new creative avenues to explore and new horizons to reach for…and then the water heater sprang a leak…
Okay, it’s not that big a deal (well, the unexpected cost of replacing the water heater…more than 10 years old…with a new one was not welcome...those puppies are expensive...but what are you gonna do?) but it made me realize that something’s got to give.
I need to redouble my efforts to find an agent and/or to get published more often (and with more reward…I write because I need to and because I have to but my creditors can’t convert my passion into anything worth their while :-) or, failing that, seek other ways to keep the home fires stoked and the tax man at bay. I need to focus a bit more on the many things I have to do and something’s got to give.
I love this incarnation of Bread and Roses (a scant few of you will know that there was a self-published, subscription-based, pamphlet version of B&R some years ago) but something’s got to give and this blog unfortunately falls into that category.
Time and circumstance are not friends of mine right now and so Bread and Roses is done for the nonce (updates had become increasingly sporadic as it was...)
I can’t begin to tell those of you who have been regular (or semi-regular or even casual readers) of this blog how much I appreciate your kind attention, your comments (positive, negative, or in-between), your positive energy, and, most importantly, the gift of discovering your own writing, observations, and slices of life through your blogs (of course, that includes all of the great sites on the blogroll on the left…all HIGHLY recommended…and many, many more besides.)
I started this blog on July 5, 2004 and I'm putting it on hiatus on January 5, 2006...not a terrrible run and I've had a ball doing it.
Namaste, y’all,
Michael
p.s.- I’m not abandoning the blogosphere completely…my pop culture blog, Neverending Rainbow, will continue to be updated on a semi-regular basis.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Karen
It had been a while since my thoughts lingered on Karen but for some reason she came into my mind often during the holidays that just ended. Karen was (and presumably still is) a remarkable human being…a beautiful girl, inside and out, who had absolutely no idea that she was beautiful (she thought of herself as a "girl" even though she was 23 when I first met her.)
Too many years ago we worked together, worker bees in the very hive-like administrative offices of a major cosmetics company in Hollywood (I was not long out of college…Business Administration degree, earned and awarded, ready to be taken out for a spin in the real world.)
Karen was sometimes a rueful, self-deprecating soul…quick to rundown her supposed awkwardness and lack of attractiveness as a shield against others doing so first…and I always found that to be the strangest thing.
I found it strange because the Karen I knew apparently wasn’t the person she apparently saw in the mirror. The Karen I knew was a gentle, trusting, warm-hearted woman with a shy, disarming, endearingly goofy smile, and undeniable, sly wit and wisdom. The Karen I knew was a striking…and when she wasn’t over-thinking things, casually and yet regally graceful…woman with pale delicate features, crystal blue eyes, and a flowing halo of soft red hair.
As she revealed in conversations over the years, one of the root causes of her low self-esteem came from the fact that she was very tall for a woman and had been, much to her chagrin, tall for a girl while growing up. When she stood tall (and often she did not, slouching instead to try to better fit in a world she felt outsized in) she was a good 6’1…she was slender and willowy and yet, despite that, she never seemed physically fragile. She was, simply, a stunning woman.
(An aside: we were walking down Hollywood Boulevard one afternoon…on our way to lunch at a small Italian restaurant frequented by people from our offices…and Karen was lost in conversation and, as she was wont do when she wasn’t looking inward, she was walking with her shoulders squared, her head held high, and her hair flowing in the gentle summer’s breeze. As we walked and talked I noticed two bicyclists…both young men…far down the block and across the street, coming towards each other from different directions…both were transfixed, gazing appreciatively, by my lunch companion…so transfixed that they crashed into each other and tumbled to the ground. When I could see that neither was hurt, I smiled. Karen refused to believe that the accident had happened because the guys had been awestruck by her.)
Karen’s one glaring flaw was that she often gravitated towards men who coveted her beauty, eagerness to please, and gentle humor but who also knew how to exploit her negative self-image in ways that kept her cowed and in thrall. They would abuse her…emotionally and occasionally physically…until they got bored and moved on. Karen would swear to never let it happen again…and then it would happen again.
I loved Karen as a sister (my passions were tied up in a hopeless cause all my own at the time…a "love" that would eventually...and unsurprisingly...go unrequited) and I kept hoping that she would break free of the cycle of heartache and find someone who would recognize…and treasure…the Karen I knew.
Karen left the cosmetics company a couple of years before I did but we kept in touch (we were both part of a group of friends working in the company who had bonded together as affable anarchists using humor and collective youthful vigor to stave off the mind-numbing drudgery of our thankless, underpaid toil…the group maintained connections for a while after we’d gone off in different directions.)
Eventually Karen got tired of that circle of heartache and she broke free. She married a man who seemed to see the Karen I knew…she got pregnant (a fond dream of hers)…and moved far away from the city to a new, happier life.
I quit the city…Los Angeles…for my current hometown not long after and we lost touch with each other (and with the others as well…we belonged to each other during our shared experience and belonged to each others’ memories once that time and place had ceased to be part of our everyday lives.) When last I heard from her, she was happy still and pregnant again.
I like to think of Karen as still being happy…with her clear eyed man and her bright-eyed children to care for; and her wit and wisdom…her delightfully matured beauty and grace…continuing to walk with her as she goes. I like to think that she looks in the mirror and sees the current incarnation of the radiant Karen I knew.
Too many years ago we worked together, worker bees in the very hive-like administrative offices of a major cosmetics company in Hollywood (I was not long out of college…Business Administration degree, earned and awarded, ready to be taken out for a spin in the real world.)
Karen was sometimes a rueful, self-deprecating soul…quick to rundown her supposed awkwardness and lack of attractiveness as a shield against others doing so first…and I always found that to be the strangest thing.
I found it strange because the Karen I knew apparently wasn’t the person she apparently saw in the mirror. The Karen I knew was a gentle, trusting, warm-hearted woman with a shy, disarming, endearingly goofy smile, and undeniable, sly wit and wisdom. The Karen I knew was a striking…and when she wasn’t over-thinking things, casually and yet regally graceful…woman with pale delicate features, crystal blue eyes, and a flowing halo of soft red hair.
As she revealed in conversations over the years, one of the root causes of her low self-esteem came from the fact that she was very tall for a woman and had been, much to her chagrin, tall for a girl while growing up. When she stood tall (and often she did not, slouching instead to try to better fit in a world she felt outsized in) she was a good 6’1…she was slender and willowy and yet, despite that, she never seemed physically fragile. She was, simply, a stunning woman.
(An aside: we were walking down Hollywood Boulevard one afternoon…on our way to lunch at a small Italian restaurant frequented by people from our offices…and Karen was lost in conversation and, as she was wont do when she wasn’t looking inward, she was walking with her shoulders squared, her head held high, and her hair flowing in the gentle summer’s breeze. As we walked and talked I noticed two bicyclists…both young men…far down the block and across the street, coming towards each other from different directions…both were transfixed, gazing appreciatively, by my lunch companion…so transfixed that they crashed into each other and tumbled to the ground. When I could see that neither was hurt, I smiled. Karen refused to believe that the accident had happened because the guys had been awestruck by her.)
Karen’s one glaring flaw was that she often gravitated towards men who coveted her beauty, eagerness to please, and gentle humor but who also knew how to exploit her negative self-image in ways that kept her cowed and in thrall. They would abuse her…emotionally and occasionally physically…until they got bored and moved on. Karen would swear to never let it happen again…and then it would happen again.
I loved Karen as a sister (my passions were tied up in a hopeless cause all my own at the time…a "love" that would eventually...and unsurprisingly...go unrequited) and I kept hoping that she would break free of the cycle of heartache and find someone who would recognize…and treasure…the Karen I knew.
Karen left the cosmetics company a couple of years before I did but we kept in touch (we were both part of a group of friends working in the company who had bonded together as affable anarchists using humor and collective youthful vigor to stave off the mind-numbing drudgery of our thankless, underpaid toil…the group maintained connections for a while after we’d gone off in different directions.)
Eventually Karen got tired of that circle of heartache and she broke free. She married a man who seemed to see the Karen I knew…she got pregnant (a fond dream of hers)…and moved far away from the city to a new, happier life.
I quit the city…Los Angeles…for my current hometown not long after and we lost touch with each other (and with the others as well…we belonged to each other during our shared experience and belonged to each others’ memories once that time and place had ceased to be part of our everyday lives.) When last I heard from her, she was happy still and pregnant again.
I like to think of Karen as still being happy…with her clear eyed man and her bright-eyed children to care for; and her wit and wisdom…her delightfully matured beauty and grace…continuing to walk with her as she goes. I like to think that she looks in the mirror and sees the current incarnation of the radiant Karen I knew.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)