Dear Fellow Creatures of the Earth,
Brains are funny. When I was a callow youth, I read this quote by Kurt Vonnegut:
And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
I remember being at the college library on the Portland State campus and flipping through A Man Without a Country, finding that quote, and then shutting the book and putting it back on the shelf.
In those days, I had no interest in noticing if I was happy or sad or mad or anything. I was too busy racing through my education to get out into the world and start working.
Like many young men, I was more clever than smart and more confident than competent.
I recently reencountered this quote via John Green’s social media presence, and I can’t get it out of my mind.
Today was a gorgeous day in my corner of the world. Yesterday was too. I think the day before that was also pretty nice, but the specifics of two days ago have already slipped away—mostly because I failed to murmur the Vonnegut incantation, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
Yesterday, Becky, the kids, and I went to the local lake (more of an artificial pond by why split hairs?) and kayaked for a few hours. The sun was bright but not fierce, and a gentle breeze flowed across the water’s surface.
Today I went for a hike and spent an hour reading poetry and comics on the front porch.
If that isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.
Creative Challenge:
Scanning the Poetry Boneyard, I saw a concept I liked a few years ago but did nothing with it. I call it the poetic self-portrait series.
You write a poem in any form you want, about yourself. It can be about the way you look, your character, anything you feel like—but it has to be centered completely on yourself. Your partner, parents, pets, children, friends, and colleagues have no role in this exercise.
Try this every day for a week, and then look back at your seven poems. What themes arise? Are you happy with what you find in these verses? Does it make you want to change anything, or have you moved closer to accepting anything about yourself?
I started this exercise last night. Here is my first self-portrait (it’s still pretty rough):
July 13, 2022—My Stalker
My stalker hides inside the mirror.
The few hairs on his bald head are a mix of salt, pepper, and sugar
and his scraggly beard scruff boasts the same color scheme.His eyes are two different sizes, one looks permanently swollen and you can barely see the dark brown pupil.
He wears purple bags under his eyes and tiny crows feet in their
corners—smile lines—these are his proudest feature.The nose his parents gave him is still bulbous and entirely too big.
Other than the crow’s feet, his face is still free from most age lines.
It’s not the stalker’s face that’s alarming—it’s his soft doughy abdomen.You might say he’s fat—he would say he’s obese. He walks
as if his stomach must precede him into
every room-even entering before his feet or his too large nose.
I hope he doesn’t find out I’m telling all this—
he’s open about being fat, but he’s also deeply
insecure about his inability to get into any
other shape except round.He wouldn’t mind the frank truth about his bald head,
tri-color hair and he loves that he’s laughed
so much that he’s permanently
changed the geography of his face.
If you’re feeling brave, share one of your poetic self-portraits in the comments.
Thanks for reading! Your support makes it possible for me to write poetry and make comics.
Be the weird you want to see in the world!
Cheers,
Jason
Another great introspective post. Thank you, Jason. I think I'll start to work on the first look right now.