Posts Tagged ‘personality’

“Life is a train of moods like a string of beads; and as we pass through them they prove to be many colored lenses, which paint the world their own hue, and each shows us only what lies in its own focus.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

the hue of me

Me, in 2009 — Photo by Kim Perrin

Bright, Loud and Hopefully a Bit Sassy

When I was growing up, somebody was always shushing me. I had, still have, a high-pitched voice, and when I get excited about something I get loud. I got excited a lot – and thankfully I still do; and although I’ve learned to moderately moderate my voice, I still get shushed.

It used to hurt to be told that. These days I simply try to tone myself down. For one thing, I have learned that the people who would be my friends accept me despite my flaw. And for another, I’ve learned there is only so much that I can turn down the volume without being so conscious of this flaw that I become a voiceless shell sitting in a corner somewhere.

I think that last part is what made me become a writer. I can be as loud as I want on paper and offend no one’s ears – of course there are other ways to offend and I’ve done those – and still do.

That’s probably why, when faced with the question of what hue describes me, I immediately thought of my tie-dyed T-shirts. And the one I’ve pictured here is the one I wore on my 70th birthday when I jumped out of an airplane for the first time in my life.

I like being me, even though, like the many-hued T-shirts, I’m a bit on the loud side. Still,  if I ever make it back to this earth, I have to admit I want a voice that sounds more like Lauren Bacall’s or Terry Tempest Williams’ than the one I was born with in this life.

Bean Pat: NaNoWriMo http://tinyurl.com/k6oze99  A good blog for anyone thinking about doing NaNo, which I am.

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    “Personality is the glitter that sends our little gleam across the footlights and the orchestra pit into that big black space where the audience is.” – Mae West

Reclaiming Art on Loan 

Bibba Bear, the survivor.

Bibba Bear, the survivor.

One of the things I told myself when I got rid of all my furnishings was that when I got off the road and grew roots again was that I would be able to decorate from scratch.

What fun that would be, I thought.

While I’ve been pleased with the few pieces of furniture I bought in January, including a bright red couch that I thought fit my sassy old broad personality, I started thinking everything looked pretty sterile. And that’s not me. While I tend to stay on the sparse side in furniture, my walls were always a mass of eclectic color.

I got just a little bit of this back this past week when two of my favorite art pieces, which I had loaned instead of giving away, came back to me.

The first is a huge photograph of a bear that I bought in Park City to celebrate my being promoted to city editor at the Standard-Examiner newspaper in Ogden, Utah. I call him Bubba Bear. He’s a grizzled old thing with scars that tell me he’s a survivor.

Self Portrait

Self Portrait

Since managing a flock of reporters is somewhat akin to herding cats, I looked at him as a role model. I hung him in a prominent position in my Utah home and looked at him every morning for inspiration to get through whatever the day threw at me.

There was no way I could give him up, so I made it perfectly clear that he was just on loan when I put him in my youngest daughter’s care.

The second piece of art was stored at my son’s house in Texas. It’s my own work, a large pencil drawing I did for a college art class. The assignment was self-portrait, and I put all the things that I felt were me into it: My desk , my favorite books, my favorite bird, my favorite movie, Angel’s Landing that I climbed every year on my birthday, the newspaper representing my journalism career, a picture in the paper of  me and my former canine companion, Peaches, who preceded both Maggie and Pepper, a Snake River Guide, with a kayak Christmas ornament atop it, and light streaming in from my window. I must have light in my homes.

The two pieces of art now hanging on my walls don’t really enhance my living room from a decorating point of view, but they’re part of me. And looking at both of them makes me feel really good.

Bean’s Pat: A Dangerous Road http://tinyurl.com/pdx3djn It reminds me of a few roads I’ve traveled, but perhaps just a little bit less scary. This is the kind of armchair travel adventure I love.

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