When you write you create an alternate personality. What I write in my blog reflects my true ideas, and yet there is something a bit different about the “me” that writes and the me that does everything else I do. Reflecting upon the difference, I can’t help wonder what it would be like if the writer me participated more fully in the life of minute-to-minute me. Could a better integrated personality, a consolidation among the “me”s lead to the invention of an internal literary dialog? It could float in that air between my ears like a tv crawl, and along the back of my head prose observations pertaining to vegetables and floor cleaners might compete with philosophy of toothpaste and anticipated toilet paper purchases. Along the byways of the Safeways I could become a veritable grocery store Socrates!
Of course one detects a potential conflict here. There might already be more gravitas in the grocery store than a person requires. Don’t the tabloids at the check out, on display next to the varieties of gum and breath fresheners, offer really all the literary commentary that a shopper ever truly needs?
In pictures I often fancy that I am the things I draw. (Maybe I have a complex going here.) And while these musings persuaded me to leave my errand persona alone, I still don’t mind becoming various sets of lines and shapes. So on that note, let me just say that though I look nothing like her (sigh) I am — I really am — that girl pictured above.
I am her, and she is me. My blue ball point pen said so itself.