Wednesday, July 26, 2006






Been some talk around the internet lately about who I really am. The Chows got quite a kick out of that, quite a kick out the idea that something or anyone might change me. Truth is, I change everyday; everyday there's something out there that captures me and leaves its mark, that makes me different for always. At least on the good days. Cle pointed out to me that still, it's good to say it out loud every once in a while because it makes it real. And keeping it real, that's what we're about, right?

So who am I? Where do I live? Well, folks, I'll tell ya: I am a child of Penn Ave and sidewalks with huge maple trees; I am a child of church bazaars and ceramics with Mrs. Capaul and meat and potatoes fresh rolls and homemade dessert dinners on Third Street. I am a child of the Palouse, the St. Joe, and mounds of sawdust from freshly cut lumber. I am a child of Viking pride.

I live in the shadows and around the corners from goodbyes; still hate 'em and still can't figure 'em out. I live in the garden with the roses, hydrangeas, rhododendrons and pinecones. I live at my desk with problems that need solving, people that need soothing, numbers that need boxes. I live in the laughter and applause of great theatre and in the windows of skillfully inventoried stores. I live in the paint and paper and clay of beautiful art. I live in the stories and melodies of the car radio. I live on my bike. I live in the laughter of B, A, and J. I live in the lap of J, listening to him sleep. I live with the hearts of my friends, glad, glad, glad. Lucky.

I look for the sunset and for the first sign of a fruit fly in the kitchen. I also look for a scratchy throat, a hot ear, pale gums. Old habits die hard. I look for really good shoe sales. I look for dust on the pictures in the living room, nice firm bananas, and patterns of numbers that levitate off the page. I look for clues in the eyes. I look for as many different shades of green in the trees that I can find. I look for the slightest scrap of anything in the back seat. I look for colors. I look for the perfect pair of black pants.

I read. I think. I laugh. I fuss. I fix. I worry. I try.


I try.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

15 comments:

MarmiteToasty said...

Jebus how I love this post....... oh how I so do.........

wanna say so much more, but I just cant, not yet...... x

jb3ll3 said...

Mel! My alter ego! You're the good twin!

Is this heat doing you in??? I am going to come to the UK and do a site visit to your cottage to make sure you're okay. Don't believe me? watch.

Bre said...

Hi Jbelle, long time no talk.

Your post is beautiful as usual, I love reading your stuff, always paints such wonderful pictures in my head.

jb3ll3 said...

BREEEE! I'm so happy to hear from you. How does it goes at the new, not so new, job? I'd love to visit. Everything's good?

vendella von messershmitt said...

(exhaling)...

you are so blessed...
so lucky...

Mommy Dearest said...

I won't give up the art if you don't give up the writing! Beautiful. And I'm a blank pants girl, too. You can never have too many pairs of black pants.

Mommy Dearest said...

I mean BLACK pants. Blank pants! Ha!

jb3ll3 said...

hey T, Even a blind children gets a piece of corn once in a while if he just keeps pecking...

tivish said...

Valhalla.
Glib.
Lunden, Culp, Hilliard, Joki.
"Specificity!"
Your words have sense...touch, smell, sight, sound, taste...and pleasure. Today's post put me on a mental bikeride around an ever expanding neighborhood...from Foster and Penna to Hastings to the UCC to Europe to my heart.
As you change each day, I know you'll never lose your essence.
Thanks for sharing. Really.

toadman said...

So...who are you again?

heh..

Good post here JBelle.. very nice.

jb3ll3 said...

How lucky is it when you have somehow, through no attributes of your own, managed to keep a friend you made when you were 7 years old?

How sweet can life be? Maybe sweeter but not that I'd know about....

jb3ll3 said...

Toadman, thanks for coming by. You are somebody that demands only my best game; and if I'm going to get better, I HAVE to change. Thank you.

jb3ll3 said...

T, even a blind CHICKEN get a kernal of corn....


CHICKEN

CHICKEN

(back to the numbers; they are so much easier)

Pixie said...

{{{{{mon J'Bell}}}}}

I do love who you are so very, very, very much. I will come to who you are often ~ so soothing.

Thank you for being.

CynM said...

ditto