words & art by shé

bookshelf

listening to love

  • Essay #31: Elizabeth Kuehnoel

    “I want to speak to god,” said the dark-haired woman, backstage after the show. I was dressed in crimson, with red gladiolus blossoms and white orchids in my hair. I had just sprinkled the audience with rose petals and performed “Can You Surf?” – a poem about god and love I’d adapted for a trio.…

  • Essay #30: down days

    Have you seen the George Clooney film, Up in the Air? His character travels year-round, home only 43 days out of 365. His family and co-worker give him grief because he doesn’t want to get married and/or have children. They tell him he’s too isolated, he must be lonely. But he isn’t lonely until he…

  • Essay #29: restore

    Restore: to bring back to or put back into a former or original state: renew; return ~Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary When I was a kid, I sang with brio, mimicked Flip Wilson, beat on the drums, banged on the piano, dressed up in costume, and put on plays and puppet shows. At one point…

  • Essay #28: permission

    Someone recently asked permission to use a poem of mine in her movement therapy class. She invited me to attend when she read it, with the added incentive, “You can dance to your poem!” This pissed me off. Who the hell is she to give me permission to dance to my own poem? I kept…

  • Essay #27: stuck

    I’ve been spending a lot of time in my car lately, driving to rehearsals far away. “So far away… Doesn’t anybody stay in one place anymore?” sings Carol King. Sometimes I get stuck in traffic. I try to relax, breathe, let it be, but the truth is I hate it. I’m afraid I’ll be here…

  • Essay #26: labor

    Labor: to work hard; to struggle to do something very difficult or very tiring; [of love] something demanding or difficult that is done just for pleasure rather than for money (Word 2011 Dictionary) I am posting this from my new (to me) computer. I have been dragged into the 21st century. Finally. Garth Brooks wrote…

  • Essay #25: bike rack

    How to affix a bike rack so it acts as a barrier between road dirt and your butt: First, barter with a guy at a garage sale and buy a Specialized mountain bike for thirty dollars cash. From his roommate, buy a bike rack and a bungee cord for a buck. Roommate explains that the…

  • Essay #24: halfway

    I am halfway through the 48 essays I promised to post. It has not gotten any easier. It is still hard to write the truth and share it with you. Seems simple enough: write a bunch of words, edit them, then publish on the worldwide web. Many people do it every day. Simple, yes, except…

  • Essay #23: billboards

    I spent last week in Southern California, where I grew up. Huge billboards line the freeways, featuring smiling women or men, posing sideways, with the phone number: 1-800-GET-THIN. “I lost 100 pounds!” they boast. Lap band surgery. My stomach hurts just thinking about it. I have felt fat most of my life, regardless of actual…

  • Essay #22: packing

    Last time I packed for a funeral, I was in high school. I don’t remember what I packed, or what I wore. But I do remember telling Mr. Perry, the marine biology teacher, that I was going to Arizona because my grandmother had died. Mimi, my mother’s mother, always sent the perfect clothes for my…