Do you ever get sad when you look at pictures from a long time ago? Recently, a friend posted some old class pictures from grade school. I noticed my brother in them. Second grade Jeff and third grade Jeff. I instantly became emotional. I really …
Month: October 2017
Because sometimes I think about weird things. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. For the past week or so I have had this Hemingway quote rolling around in my brain. I can’t get it out. I actually don’t think I will get it out until I figure out my sentence. The quote:
All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know. – Ernest Hemingway
I think about things. This is one of the things I have been contemplating. I am sure I am overthinking it, but it’s what I do sometimes. I am pretty sure the quote refers to writing and getting started writing, but I am actually having a little bit of fun wading through the murky waters of its meaning.
What would your sentence be? The truest sentence that you know. What is it? Does it feel hard for you to do that or hard for you to think about that? Does it scare you? What does it mean to you?
I have been thinking about this a lot. It’s hard for me to do. I don’t know for sure what it means to me. Would it be something bad, something good, something indifferent? So hard. I don’t know why. How can writing a true sentence be so hard? I think I want to overanalyze it. I want to think too much. I want it to be something. It has to be SOMETHING. I want it to be definitive, but then I think it can’t be. It shouldn’t be. I should just be. I should just stop thinking.
I had a super weird dream the other night. That has nothing to do with my true sentence, but I didn’t want to forget it and I was too lazy to open another page, so I will get it down here. But, who knows, maybe it does have something to do with my true sentence.
In my dream, I was walking. I think I was looking for or was going to meet John somewhere. There was a bunch of water that I had to walk along. I had three cats and a duck. The cats were gray, the duck was Mallard. I kept walking, looking for John. I didn’t know where I was supposed to meet him, only that I would know when I came to the place. It seemed like we, meaning me, the cats and the duck, walked forever. We walked along the water for a long time and then the water was coming to an end and it was just land, sidewalks and a parking lot. I had to let the duck go. I had to put him back in the water. I kept the cats and then went to the parking lot. That is when I woke up. When I woke up, I felt so weird. I kept thinking about it. I knew I wanted to remember it and I wanted to get it down on paper so I wouldn’t forget it.
Bizarre? Ummm, yeah! Weird? Ummm, yeah. I wonder if it has anything to do with my true sentence. Like I said, I can’t get that phrase out of my brain. I know I am supposed to be doing something with it. I just don’t know what it is yet.
My dream must have something to do with it, but what part of my dream? The duck? The cats? Me not finding John? I wonder about things like this. I can’t help it.
So, as I finish this blog post, I will continue to contemplate my one true sentence. I will continue to think about it. I will continue to wonder about it. I will continue to think and wonder. It’s what I do.
Why is fire so fascinating? It’s mesmerizing. I love it. Whenever we sit out at the fire pit, I find myself staring into it and getting lost in the colors. The dancing and jumping of the flames is fascinating. The colors are rich and vibrant. …