An Anthology of Recent Thoughts on Creativity, My Future, and All That

(Anthology sounds better than Random Collection, don't you think?)

~ To begin with - I want to tell stories. I don't know if I want to tell *my* stories or someone else's stories, but that's what I want to do. Not that I know what I mean by that; stories can be told in nonfiction as well as in fiction (and I am awful with dialogue), or in script format, or in media that is not print. Like, oh, audio. But I know that it definitely all comes back around to stories, in the end - all of it: Life, the Universe, and Everything. Except for the parts that are actually explained by the answer 42. And maybe even those.

~ Christopher Moore's "Fool," though not as funny as "You Suck" or the first three-quarters of "Lamb," would make an interesting screenplay. I could see it as I read, from the very first chapter. Not that I was looking for something to adapt. Nor do I think I could possibly get the rights to do anything with a screenplay adaptation for it. But - there it was. And is. In my head. Bugging me. And tempting me to insert random anachronistic pseudo-British curses into inappropriate places in daily conversation. Dog snogging. (See?)

~ However...I really enjoy the academia environment - for instance, being able to quote postmodern media theorists and not have people look at me as if I'd suddenly started spouting aphorisms in Old Welsh - and I would like to get a Ph.D. But this languages thing, this may not be for me. Which really limits the Ph.D. programs I could a) get admitted to, and b) actually finish. OK, I'm resigned to wrestling with Modern Standard Arabic at least for now, and think I could probably pull off a decent proficiency in French relatively easily, but...German? No, don't think so. And ALL the programs I've looked into, whether Media Studies or Religious Studies or Middle Eastern Studies (such creative nomenclature) require one to acquire near-fluency in Arabic, plus intermediate level French and German (the languages other than English that most research documents will be in), and some programs even 'suggest' adding an additional relevant language, like, say, Farsi (aka what they speak in Iran). Oh, no, really, I don't think so.

~ Besides, if I got a Ph.D., in anything at all, I'd become even more of the Resident Islam Expert Who Knoweth All There Is About Yonder Muslims and Must Therefore Be Asked All Sorts of Dumb Questions About How to Solve the Palestine Thing and Why Muslims Dress Funny. The title of Expert conferred by a Ph.D. just might not be quite my cup of tea, especially in the direction, and at the rate of speed thereto, I'm going with the Islam-thing.

~ Which means I have NO IDEA what I'm Supposed To Be Doing With My Life. (Do any of us, really?) Though having a plan would be, well, somewhat useful.

~ Which brings me back to storytelling - and what the dickens do stories have to do with a Ph.D. anyway? (That's not a rhetorical question, by the way.)

~ Oh, and the best compliment I've received in a very long time: a friend who's known me quite a while told me he's glad that I'm finally (again)giving expression to the liberal-creative-hippie genes I inherited from my parents. Yep, so am I; I feel more 'myself' than I have in quite some time.

~ And to throw a bit of randomness in: I miss fireflies. No, really, I do. When I was in Ohio last, at a friend's house one evening, there were lightning bugs just everywhere. I know they exist here, but I've not actually SEEN any in a very long time. That was lovely. Stars, too; too much light pollution - and just darn pollution - in this city to see very many of these. But at the IMA gardens last week, while I was sitting reading, I had a mayfly (or something resembling one) land on my hand and sit there for about five minutes, doing mayfly-things like wiping its face and twitching its wings and, well, pooping (eh, I have cats, I've stepped in worse). Watching it was...humbling.