Ducks in a row versus Godzilla

I’ve been having that urge to make something — a story, a poem, a song, a recording — anything — just as long as an expression comes out and an attempt at connection is made. See what I think and feel — do you think and feel this, too, or something like it? Thank goodness. I guess we’re not alone, after all. What’s that? You think and feel it in a different way? That’s great, too; now I can see it your way and it becomes part of our understanding of each other.

But before that connection, the art needs to be made. Which way do I go? What is trying to come out?

And that whimsical voice I rediscovered the other day, where has it been? Where has it gone? Where is it taking me? Can I relinquish control, let it take care of the vertical and the horizontal, and journey to the outer limits with it? 

It’s like when you know the only thing that will work is to let go but you keep holding on with all your might, and the whimsy struggles to burst free until it’s smushed in your grip, and oh the anxiety — you could feel that a unicorn with sparkly eyes was trying to lift you into a fantasy world so fine and adventurous that you could see a big fluffy dragon smiling at you, but you couldn’t make the leap, you couldn’t name the princess and release the magic, and woe is you, woe is you, woe woe woe woe yeah yeah yeah, hey, little devil …

Give me another chance, I know there’s another silly story in there if you just let me try — but wait, these are words of frustration and despair. That’s nearly the opposite of whimsy.

Whimsy is ducks in a row with X’s for eyes facing off against Godzilla. Whimsy is salt and pepper shaker cows smiling at each other. Whimsy is a moose in a winter scarf and a fedora up on the top shelf. 

Lift up your eyes and find a gentle smile, a chuckle, and a belly laugh. Coax the twinkle back into your eye and set sail for a land so far away that it’s right there in your heart.

And there you’ll find that tale of funny animals and pumpkins in jeopardy that you were longing to tell, or something very much akin. As for the tyrants who would steal your hopes and dreams and leave you to wallow in the horrible, disarm them with ridicule and ignorance — that is to say, laugh and ignore them.

Leave a Reply