Elusive Ink

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Macy Gray



So...I've decided to number my "Random Notes" in roman numerals. The difference between my random notes, and the other various blog posts is that they tend to be shorter and have...no point.

A few years ago, at breakfast with one of my heroes, Michael Westmore he related a story about how he numbered the trill-spots on Terry Farell, for every episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, with roman numerals. Eventually they got to a point where they would have to look them up every morning. So, just under the collar of her uniform, hides the number of times he'd painted them up until that point. He said a lot of people had asked if he had some sort of pattern or stencil for Dax's trill-spots, and he was proud to say that they were hand painted for every episode.

That morning, Michael Westmore told me he saw a lot of talent, and to continue to pursue my passions in the arts. That's why, when I decided to number my random notes, I chose to do so with roman numerals. To remind myself, when I'm feeling hopeless, or discouraged...to always pursue my passions.

I'm having sort of a bad day, as far as self esteem goes. Not sure why. I just...feel...worthless.

On another train of thought...I've finally found a piece of African Literature I like...Mariama Bâ's "So Long a Letter." I'm not finished, but I'm enjoying it greatly so far. :-)

This passage in particular struck me, for a myriad of reasons.

"If over the years, and passing through the realities of life, dreams die, I still keep intact my memories, the salt of remembrance.

I conjur you up. The past is reborn, along with its procession of emotions. I close my eyes. Ebb and die of feeling: heat and dazzlement, the woodfires, the sharp green mango, bitten into turns, a delicacy in our greedy mouths. I close my eyes.
Ebb and tide of images drops of sweat beading your mother's ochre-coloured face as she emerges from the kitchen; the procession of young wet girls chattering on their way back from the springs.

We walked the same paths from adolescence to maturity,
where the past begets the present." (So Long a Letter, Mariama Bâ)

That's all for now...I'm sure I'll think of more to ramble on about later.

P.S. Twitter is amazing.