This afternoon, I opened a miniature DOVE bar (which I may or may not have yanked from a department that isn't my own) and discovered, printed on the wrapper, a piece of advice so mind-blowing it completely transformed my life. Here's what it said:
Do What You Love.
You can imagine how upsetting this was to me. I mean, here I've been this whole time, doing things I don't even like that much, let alone love!! When I think of the years I've wasted - being at work when I could have been petting puppies, or getting my teeth cleaned instead of sticking Q-tips in my ears, or doing anything other than getting massages, eating tea sandwiches and buying pretty dresses - it makes me feel disgusted, angry, and downright horrified.
Where were you all those times I was scooping cat poop, DOVE?!?
Anyway, I shared these troubling thoughts with a dear friend of mine, who had the brilliant idea of writing our own messages for chocolate wrappers. Except ours would be less trite and more honest. For example:
"I saw you steal this chocolate from Accounting, and I'm reporting you to HR."
"If you eat less chocolate, maybe people will stop asking you if you're pregnant."
"9 followers does not a successful blogger make."
Dear reader, I need your help compiling a list of such slogans to send to DOVE corporate headquarters for their consideration. Please SUBMIT YOUR SUGGESTIONS, IMMEDIATELY AND PROFUSELY, in the comments section.
Thanks. And remember, I love you.
Apr 17, 2013
Good Art, For Example This Poem by 22-Year Old Desiree Dallagiacomo
Much like ladies, poems are meant to be heard, not seen. Or heard and seen, rather. And as a poetry writer and performer with aspirations of combining the two, I was looking for inspiration when I discovered Indie Feed's Performance Poetry podcast. And that is how I discovered Desiree Dallagiacomo's poem "One Side of an Ongoing Dialogue with Sharon, My Therapist." I wanted to share it with you, because much like sushi, good art is meant to be shared, not hoarded.
You can listen and download it for free here.
Did you? Did it move you? She's 22 years old, and she writes with the wisdom of a world-weary woman, speaking of pain as only someone who's lived so long with pain that it no longer feels like an enemy can. Not in a self-indulgent, self-pitying way, but with defiance and conviction. Owning her story, her words, her pain. Masterfully tempering white hot anger with unexpected moments of honest vulnerability. Embracing every aspect of her experience, without apologizing or justifying, as I often find myself doing whenever I try to explain my pain. Desiree's poem is a remonstration to that urge, a reminder that poetry ought not strive to explain.
What is a poem's purpose then? To enlighten, provoke, empower, unburden, let go?
For the poet, it is freedom from the claustrophobic realm of the torturing ego-driven mind, and a refusal to be quiet and fall in line, to put suffering aside like it could never be anything more than an inconvenience. An unburdening of the soul, a reaching out.
For the listener, it is an awakening of the soul. A summons to engage with our hearts as well as our minds. It elucidates truths, which distance and technology and rational thinking have rendered powerless, by infusing the facts with the warm, visceral breath of humanity.
Poetry keeps us connected. You dig?
You can listen and download it for free here.
Did you? Did it move you? She's 22 years old, and she writes with the wisdom of a world-weary woman, speaking of pain as only someone who's lived so long with pain that it no longer feels like an enemy can. Not in a self-indulgent, self-pitying way, but with defiance and conviction. Owning her story, her words, her pain. Masterfully tempering white hot anger with unexpected moments of honest vulnerability. Embracing every aspect of her experience, without apologizing or justifying, as I often find myself doing whenever I try to explain my pain. Desiree's poem is a remonstration to that urge, a reminder that poetry ought not strive to explain.
What is a poem's purpose then? To enlighten, provoke, empower, unburden, let go?
For the poet, it is freedom from the claustrophobic realm of the torturing ego-driven mind, and a refusal to be quiet and fall in line, to put suffering aside like it could never be anything more than an inconvenience. An unburdening of the soul, a reaching out.
For the listener, it is an awakening of the soul. A summons to engage with our hearts as well as our minds. It elucidates truths, which distance and technology and rational thinking have rendered powerless, by infusing the facts with the warm, visceral breath of humanity.
Poetry keeps us connected. You dig?
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