Today’s catch words: authentic, gritty, relevant, edgy, raw, quirky. If these words are not in a review of your book or film, you know your work is no good. If these words are not in a description about your ministry, turn your collar in.
With that in mind, and in keeping with why my house is trendy, I give you my kitchen:
Consider:
authentic: this is me, completely me, all of me, nothing but me
gritty: obviously
relevant: what could be more relevant to people’s lives than the messes we create? (you can take that philosophically.)
edgy: don’t blindly dive your hands into the sink. serrated knives, you know.
raw: trust me on this one. you don’t want to know.
quirky: this mess no longer exists. this picture was taken at 2AM. by 3:30, the dishwasher was emptied, the dirty dishes cleaned, and the floors swept (we dogsat two dogs. lotsa fur.) i’m thinking of publishing an article, "ten things to do when you can’t sleep."
In short, the state of my house is the state of my mind. A clean house, you know one of three things is going on: I’m stuck on something with my writing; I’m irritated at something; I can’t sleep. And really the "can’t sleep" option stems from one of the former two. As Jeremy Begbie said, "Untidiness is not necessarily a mark of disorder." But don’t tell my husband about that saying. Who knows what he’ll do with it.
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My family on both my side and my husband’s side considers me a health nut. How do you explain then that Sunday for lunch I had Kraft Mac-n-Cheese, yesterday for lunch I had ham and cheese on croissant, and last night for dinner I had eggs and popcorn? Of course, no partially hydrogenated oil was used in the preparation of any of the above items.
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I’m a faux gardener. I love pretending. I love watching everything daily. I love my flowers and my vegetables and my fruit. The other day, I pulled a pesky weed. It turned out to be a flower. Reminded me of some parable somewhere.
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I’m now on Twitter. One more way to procrastinate. One more way for you to know things about me that you don’t care to know. Should I SMS you from the bathroom? Do you want to know what I’m cooking for dinner? (Um, when I make dinner?) Should I inform you every time the phone rings (when I hear it, that is–I have a habit of leaving it on the other side of the house)? Nonetheless, here I am, heatheragoodman. Let me know if you’re twittering so I can follow you and tell me to pick up some avocados for me when you run to the market.
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You’ve made it thus far in my ramblings, so you deserve a reward. Things of interest:
Literary agent Nathan Bransford is having a dialogue contest. The best written dialogue will win a query critique (or something else).
There’s a discussion about art and the creative process and what it has to teach us about God and ourselves.
There’s a lot of divide about Prince Caspian. Your take?
