we've only just begun
“There’s only one word for it.” Urania yearned to tear today’s creation into tiny pieces. “Looks nothing like what we tried to nick.”
Cal and Tal locked eyes and burst into giggles. “Terrible!”
“Human arms should not look like draught horse legs,” said Nia. “Good thing showing up messy and imperfect is part of our shtick.”
Words from Typist:
And the show goes on!
We’ll keep practicing.
In response to a reader comment from yesterday…
Bobby asked — “When Cal eats cashews does Typist get to taste them… or only suffer the consequences (push-ups or lunges)?”
The story I’m telling myself about pantry raids and calisthenics does not involve the word suffer. 😮
I read the pairing as a win-win!
Healthy-ish food item coupled with muscle building movement is shaping us up nicely!
“We’ll keep practicing.” To get beyond stick figures one must draw handstands and other challenging subject matter! Bravo.
My sentimental jukebox immediately played the song (title of today’s love letter) by The Carpenters from long ago. In contrast with your take on “cashews and calisthenics” Karen Carpenter’s life illustrated the divergence between what the world sees of our outsides and who we are on our insides.
Your messages have consistently prompted us to live out loud, to be willing to take risks with how we’re seen/judged by others, and to grow our confidence from doing so. So glad you have. So sad Karen didn’t. To me that’s a dramatic representation of the importance to develop our inner strength and outward courage. Most of all, to practice rigorous honesty.
Next? Ballerina pirouettes?! 😁
“Good thing showing up messy and imperfect is part of our shtick.” ~Typist AND The Girl’s
What if showing up messy became “normal” not part of anyone’s “shtick” but instead, understood, expected, and “normal” whatever that is!
Speaking of messy and imperfect, here’s how shtick was originally spelled even though I had copied and pasted your quote into the beginning of this reply.
“schtick”
I love how Gary captured the essence of this idea to “live out loud.” I for one feel like I can take more risks, be more of who I really am, poor humor and all, jokes and all, even when they’re not very funny, warts and all, frogs, princes, characters, little boys, scared little boys, curious little boys, terrified little boys, an unlovable little boy, and now, a man who is no longer afraid to be who he is!
I am loving and lovable. I am kind, compassionate, caring, curious, and talented. I am an artist. As a matter fact, I am, The EarthHeARTist.
🌎💛🎨🍁🎨💛🌎
I am no longer afraid, because my fear has been replaced with curiosity, with wonder, with awe.
I have a deep and profound respect for every lesson I learn from YOU and your readers AND, of course, The Girl’s. Every day, I give myself permission to read and participate in these love letters...
I have a new definition for the word courage.
When I go to the dictionary of my mind and I think of the word courage, there is one word, one name that immediately rises to the top, just like the cream from a freshly milked cow.
That word, that name, is Gail, a.k.a:
~Typist AND The Girl’s