1) Where is home for you?
hmm, it’s funny (but not surprising) that you would ask that of me.
i used to think that the physicality of the place i lived in was home.
you know, where you put your stuff and where things were familiar, but all that changed not too long ago, and i’m only now discovering that as long as i have
my children around me (not on TOP of me, mind you!!) i am home.
the address ain’t no thing. the other bits – the familiarity, the routine, the... stuff, i guess, doesn’t nearly matter so much. you yourself make the difference, after all. (you knew the answer all along, dorothy, now click your heels
and repeat after me - there's no place like home, there's...)
ALSO, it doesn’t hurt to have your whole music collection in one place! (finally)
2) Who are the writers that you absolutely positively cannot stop reading?
i’ve been reading SO much lately, it’s hard to pick, but i keep coming back to:
Christopher Moore (he makes me laugh – especially in Lamb,
the Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal)
Kent Haruf, whose simple (seeming) austere novels
(they all take place in a small town in colorado) are just poetry to read.
Isabelle Allende, whose stories are not only captivating, but magical as well and
Edward Rivera, Piri Thomas, Victor Hernandez Cruz, and Cristina Garcia and
also most of the writers in Boricuas;
an anthology of Puerto Rican writers edited by Roberto Santiago.
3) Tell us about God – does he exist? If so, how do you know? If not, why not? And does He watch Def Poetry?
why you gotta axe me the hard ones, yo? jeez... or, erm, sheesh (!)
OK. God. right.
no, i don’t think i believe in god, per se – i’ve never been a big fan
of organized religion – the bible was a good story, but jesus never saw it –
or filled any of the missing pieces in for that matter... a buncha guys got together
and wrote stuff down that people take WAAAAY too literally these days.
anyway, if there was a god, and he was anything like what was written about him,
i don’t think that he would be able to stand by and let things turn to shit like they have. maybe that’s too simplistic a thought, but then again, maybe that’s what’s needed.
too many people are getting hurt, through no fault of their own, i might add
and they could use a little god-like intervention right about now.
also, to knock some people down off their high-horses - you know the ones i mean...
(who take his name in vain to boot – if ya believe, that is)
i’d like the world to be less dangerous - again, maybe too simplistic,
but i think we should all step lightly on this earth, and try and leave our
mark in a less...invasive way...
but i guess over the years, i’ve come to believe in myself, and the old adage
that if you try and live right, and be the best person you can, good
things will happen in your wake – touching all the people you touch.
oh, and the def poetry thing – if He does exist, sorry for being
sceptical first of all (no harm, no foul, right?) second, he must have a perverse
sense of humor - think duck-billed platypus and tammy fay baker, plus
if he watched past the 3rd season, he may be kind of a masochist –
dontcha think?? just kidding?!
4) Describe your greatest fear as a house.
okaaay. odd question, but i’m game –
i suppose it would have to be being empty –
devoid of all life, love, noise, music.
nothing scarier (and sadder) than an empty, echo-y house.
5) If love is a dog, which trick does he do best?
pfffffft – that’s an easy one (in my case, anyway):
roll over, and play dead, of course!!
hmm, it’s funny (but not surprising) that you would ask that of me.
i used to think that the physicality of the place i lived in was home.
you know, where you put your stuff and where things were familiar, but all that changed not too long ago, and i’m only now discovering that as long as i have
my children around me (not on TOP of me, mind you!!) i am home.
the address ain’t no thing. the other bits – the familiarity, the routine, the... stuff, i guess, doesn’t nearly matter so much. you yourself make the difference, after all. (you knew the answer all along, dorothy, now click your heels
and repeat after me - there's no place like home, there's...)
ALSO, it doesn’t hurt to have your whole music collection in one place! (finally)
2) Who are the writers that you absolutely positively cannot stop reading?
i’ve been reading SO much lately, it’s hard to pick, but i keep coming back to:
Christopher Moore (he makes me laugh – especially in Lamb,
the Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal)
Kent Haruf, whose simple (seeming) austere novels
(they all take place in a small town in colorado) are just poetry to read.
Isabelle Allende, whose stories are not only captivating, but magical as well and
Edward Rivera, Piri Thomas, Victor Hernandez Cruz, and Cristina Garcia and
also most of the writers in Boricuas;
an anthology of Puerto Rican writers edited by Roberto Santiago.
3) Tell us about God – does he exist? If so, how do you know? If not, why not? And does He watch Def Poetry?
why you gotta axe me the hard ones, yo? jeez... or, erm, sheesh (!)
OK. God. right.
no, i don’t think i believe in god, per se – i’ve never been a big fan
of organized religion – the bible was a good story, but jesus never saw it –
or filled any of the missing pieces in for that matter... a buncha guys got together
and wrote stuff down that people take WAAAAY too literally these days.
anyway, if there was a god, and he was anything like what was written about him,
i don’t think that he would be able to stand by and let things turn to shit like they have. maybe that’s too simplistic a thought, but then again, maybe that’s what’s needed.
too many people are getting hurt, through no fault of their own, i might add
and they could use a little god-like intervention right about now.
also, to knock some people down off their high-horses - you know the ones i mean...
(who take his name in vain to boot – if ya believe, that is)
i’d like the world to be less dangerous - again, maybe too simplistic,
but i think we should all step lightly on this earth, and try and leave our
mark in a less...invasive way...
but i guess over the years, i’ve come to believe in myself, and the old adage
that if you try and live right, and be the best person you can, good
things will happen in your wake – touching all the people you touch.
oh, and the def poetry thing – if He does exist, sorry for being
sceptical first of all (no harm, no foul, right?) second, he must have a perverse
sense of humor - think duck-billed platypus and tammy fay baker, plus
if he watched past the 3rd season, he may be kind of a masochist –
dontcha think?? just kidding?!
4) Describe your greatest fear as a house.
okaaay. odd question, but i’m game –
i suppose it would have to be being empty –
devoid of all life, love, noise, music.
nothing scarier (and sadder) than an empty, echo-y house.
5) If love is a dog, which trick does he do best?
pfffffft – that’s an easy one (in my case, anyway):
roll over, and play dead, of course!!
No comments:
Post a Comment