I want to take this opportunity to thank my good friend, Evelyn, (see Daily Ecstasy Blog...I will learn how to spell ecstasy because of her), who reminded me that it all starts with "butt in the chair". Not that I haven't been writing daily. I have, for the past twenty years and more. It's the going public thingee that has me paralyzed, my soul turned to dust, blown away with the slightest breeze. I know all my friends would say, "You? Miss Mary, the extrovert." Once and for all humankind, I shall state this eternal truth, within all extroverts there lies an introvert in deep Hyding (with who knows what personality disorders).
I have a theory. (I have about a million theories). My theory is this: practiced introverts know themselves and are thus able to muster up what it takes to go public easier than pretend extroverts,who have not allowed themselves or anyone else, for that matter, to know that other, darker part of themselves.
Mary, Mary, Quite contrary, how does your garden grow?
With lots of bunnies, eating the peonies,
and apples rotting all in a row!
I don't mean to be negative. Oh, dear me, never negative! Not in Minnesota, anyway. However, I was raised through my adolescent years (26-36) in New York City. If I had cultivated Midwestern nice in my early years, my adolescent years opened my eyes to the big, bad world, just a little. But not much. Just a little.
I still prefer to promote myself as a Mary, Mary Miss Sunshine, even if my garden is mainly in the shade. I'll always try to pull something positive out of the daily nothingness of ordinary life; just as I tend towards solving the mystery of me and the world in my writing.
As my friend, Eileen, said to me this morning via internet, "Write on, Mary."
And I might add, "Read on, dear follower!:
I have a theory. (I have about a million theories). My theory is this: practiced introverts know themselves and are thus able to muster up what it takes to go public easier than pretend extroverts,who have not allowed themselves or anyone else, for that matter, to know that other, darker part of themselves.
Mary, Mary, Quite contrary, how does your garden grow?
With lots of bunnies, eating the peonies,
and apples rotting all in a row!
I don't mean to be negative. Oh, dear me, never negative! Not in Minnesota, anyway. However, I was raised through my adolescent years (26-36) in New York City. If I had cultivated Midwestern nice in my early years, my adolescent years opened my eyes to the big, bad world, just a little. But not much. Just a little.
I still prefer to promote myself as a Mary, Mary Miss Sunshine, even if my garden is mainly in the shade. I'll always try to pull something positive out of the daily nothingness of ordinary life; just as I tend towards solving the mystery of me and the world in my writing.
As my friend, Eileen, said to me this morning via internet, "Write on, Mary."
And I might add, "Read on, dear follower!:
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