you can't start a fire without a spark
Carol Hartsell is only a man. It says so right on the header for her column.
I've been reading Drink At Work for the better part of a year now, ever since sleetfall pointed out that delightfully acerbic BC parody strips in the Medium Large archives. And as the site has grown and shifted I've been watching, delighted by each new increase in content. When word came that A Quick Moment with Carol was blossoming into Ms. Hartsell being the weekly Friday columnist I was psyched.
And she blew me away, let me be very clear about that. Her first column, a rant about the title of her column and the phrase ”I'm Only A Man”, completely floored me. Her writing is balls-to-the-wall invective and damn funny in the process. The thing is, she's kind of my opposite number. She grew up with older brothers, mystified and jealous of masculinity and marveling at the simple truth of lacking a Y chromosome. I grew up with three sisters and what has been uncharitably described as an emotional excess of estrogen, near-constantly bemused by the fact that, well, I'm only a man.
A couple of weeks ago Ms. Hartsell's column was titled Excuse Me, Sir?. And it was self-referential and indulgently navel-gazing in the way most of her columns have been thus far. And as usual I instantly forgave those seeming shortcomings and devoured every word. She writes about what she is and, more to the point, what she is not. What its like to be biologically an adult but still kind of startled by it, and to almost be any number of things but actually be very few of them. I know that state of mind all too well.
Coincidentally over at one of my other favorite blogs the lovable demiurgent has just posted a riff about the uncertain place he's in, at least in terms of his public persona, his blogging and other creative output on the internet. The column makes reference to Watership Down (the movie of which, interestingly, is mentioned in Carol's first column) and a state of being known as tharn. And in the comments someone glibly elaborated that tharn seems to be going around these days.
Its starting to be Spring in my life, in more ways that one. Not to put too fine a point on it but we're less than a week shy of Beltaine. And I know from tharn, and I know from being and not being, and I know what its like to feel more than a little fed up with yourself. But I also know that I've got good friends around me and a loving family who won't let me starve. I know that this endless cycle of trying to get my shit together has got to come to an end eventually. I have faith that forward momentum will be achieved, that I will carve a new big picture and the details will attend to themselves, as they usually do.
But if only for a moment, its nice to stop and know that other people, in trying to articulate their thoughts, can write what I'm feeling inside.
(Fear not, loyal readers. My affection for the writings of Ms. Hartsell have in no way tempered my deep and abiding love of weds's compositions. The triumphant return of Because Its Wednesday was very nearly about Lesson Zero, and if I can be arsed I'll write that column too. Maybe next week.)
I've been reading Drink At Work for the better part of a year now, ever since sleetfall pointed out that delightfully acerbic BC parody strips in the Medium Large archives. And as the site has grown and shifted I've been watching, delighted by each new increase in content. When word came that A Quick Moment with Carol was blossoming into Ms. Hartsell being the weekly Friday columnist I was psyched.
And she blew me away, let me be very clear about that. Her first column, a rant about the title of her column and the phrase ”I'm Only A Man”, completely floored me. Her writing is balls-to-the-wall invective and damn funny in the process. The thing is, she's kind of my opposite number. She grew up with older brothers, mystified and jealous of masculinity and marveling at the simple truth of lacking a Y chromosome. I grew up with three sisters and what has been uncharitably described as an emotional excess of estrogen, near-constantly bemused by the fact that, well, I'm only a man.
A couple of weeks ago Ms. Hartsell's column was titled Excuse Me, Sir?. And it was self-referential and indulgently navel-gazing in the way most of her columns have been thus far. And as usual I instantly forgave those seeming shortcomings and devoured every word. She writes about what she is and, more to the point, what she is not. What its like to be biologically an adult but still kind of startled by it, and to almost be any number of things but actually be very few of them. I know that state of mind all too well.
Coincidentally over at one of my other favorite blogs the lovable demiurgent has just posted a riff about the uncertain place he's in, at least in terms of his public persona, his blogging and other creative output on the internet. The column makes reference to Watership Down (the movie of which, interestingly, is mentioned in Carol's first column) and a state of being known as tharn. And in the comments someone glibly elaborated that tharn seems to be going around these days.
Its starting to be Spring in my life, in more ways that one. Not to put too fine a point on it but we're less than a week shy of Beltaine. And I know from tharn, and I know from being and not being, and I know what its like to feel more than a little fed up with yourself. But I also know that I've got good friends around me and a loving family who won't let me starve. I know that this endless cycle of trying to get my shit together has got to come to an end eventually. I have faith that forward momentum will be achieved, that I will carve a new big picture and the details will attend to themselves, as they usually do.
But if only for a moment, its nice to stop and know that other people, in trying to articulate their thoughts, can write what I'm feeling inside.
(Fear not, loyal readers. My affection for the writings of Ms. Hartsell have in no way tempered my deep and abiding love of weds's compositions. The triumphant return of Because Its Wednesday was very nearly about Lesson Zero, and if I can be arsed I'll write that column too. Maybe next week.)