Skip to main content

Establishing S h ots.

For some reason, I have this vivid childhood something- I feel like it was a dream, obviously it was a dream. But then why does it feel like a memory?

It goes like this. Suddenly, my eyes open, and I start to pitter-patter around my house. I know I must have been very young, because I was in the first house I had ever lived, and my parents were together.

I had started in my old room- maybe there was a wooden crib and maybe there wasn't, but the real anchor to this almost 30-year-old picture in my head was this small, stuffed dog. A German Shepherd named Nero, because I called him that after my grandparents' dog. 

The stuffed version of Nero had a blue, 1st place ribbon on his chest. He must have been a showdog. I have no idea where he came from.

As I pitter-pattered, I carried Nero in my hand. Room-to-room, exploring and examining the surroundings, the sound of my parents' and my big brother's voice coming in and out of focus. The part of this memory or dream or completely imagined event that makes me question its validity is the credits.

A first-person perspective, establishing shot, and credits rolling purposefully in yellow letters across the bottom. No memory of what they said, perhaps something like "and introducing Tee". 

That would be me, and this has since been the perceivable start to my life. The beginning of a film from a third person perspective, with a running time of however long. 

Here I am.

xo, Tee.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Purging- A L i st.

- Less Facebook posts - Less junk articles (no money to pay for extra data; see first item) - Less obsessive phone-checking (see first two items; besides, your relationship with your phone is now borderline unhealthy anyway) - Less falling asleep with the computer on (studies show this is terrible for your sleep) - Less impulsive spending - Less jaw-clenching - Less ranting about your relationship - Less taking work personally - Less photos of your face, or your cat's face (with the imperative for more photos of the world around you- for posterity and the appreciation of your life) - Less nail-painting (yikes.) - Less hair-washing (double-yikes) - Less fear of the future unknown - Less comparison of your physical appearance to others (nearly impossible) - Less dread of getting out of bed in the morning - Less wish-making at 11:11 (for wishes you are too lazy/stupid/intimidated to help make come true) - Less fidgeting while listening - Less sugar (obviously) - Less ...
Post a Comment
Read more

2022

As a teenager, one of my biggest fears was an airborne disease that would wreak havoc on the world as we knew it.  Back then, SARS was a thing, and some other weird things that I can't remember happened that year that brought me to my naiive, self-absorbed and dysfunctional little knees one afternoon while watching CNN.  I was overwhelmed. I asked my mother why it felt like the entire world was collapsing. The drama. ...and now, look where we are. It's 2022, baby - literally any fucking thing goes. - T.
Post a Comment
Read more

:: Wounds and Such

This post is about scars. Today, at some point, I was thinking about scars. Everyone has them. One scar is from aimlessly tumbling down a ditch in childhood. Another one on my knee was acquired from falling on ice. My favourite knee scar is comprised of three parts- 1) the long remnants of a botched incision, 2) a hole in the kneecap and 3) two little "x" shaped things above aforementioned incision. The story- at the age of fifteen, I was having the time of my life. My friends and I left school property to hang at a park. I ran and ran and laughed and laughed and rode the swing and jumped and soooooooared through the air and then landed, hard. Nothing about me has ever been the same since. They reconstructed a ligament in my right knee. I like to think the scar signifies a sort of bravery- repeated needles, an epidural, a night in a lonely hospital bed, hallucinating by way of injected morphine doses. How badass. There is a small scar on my eyelid that only *I* can notice, w...
1 comment
Read more