Greetings to all -
After identifying the things I love about the people who have defined Sarah Hightower to me, I find that it is comforting not to find any fault with her. This is a reckless stance though, so I'd like to add the several attitudes and qualities that she has that I will adopt with some reservations.
I think she is always conscious of the splendid hair. I think she tosses those saucy curls when she thinks someone is watching her, just to smell the faint scent of her hair as it brushes across her face. Did you see that? Good. "Oh really? I don't do anything with it - you know, just towel rub it dry when I get out of the shower." That's not good. Better just to get your hair out of the way most days.
I think Sarah is self-reliant to a fault and that some people would prefer she didn't always land right-side-up. We all want to be endearing, right? Who needs you if you always find your own spoon and never need directions? I think Sarah should try asking for help more often. It is most definitely unmanly to do that, but in a few instances it might be nice.
But it's the positive bits of her that keep her in front of me. She won't slip on the stairs, she won't ever pay for extra weight in her luggage when she flies, and she never guesses at restaurant tips because of that superior math ability. When she enters a room, she can do it so that nobody notices and when she meets someone, even in passing, she will never forget their name.
I wonder if these qualities are universally desirable - are most people attracted to these particular qualities? I think it might be time to start writing about Sarah now - maybe I need to activate her to try out these qualities with her fictional compatriots on a fictional audience.
Tomorrow - now that I have a better grip on her - I will activate Sarah Hightower.
Sincerely,
Nilesite
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
What does she look like?
Greetings to all!
Not wanting to sound superficial or politically incorrect, I have put some thought to what Sarah Hightower looks like? Hair, eyes, height, what does she wear, is she stylish, does she even care?
Much as I would like to say she doesn't care, I believe she does. Of course she has curly hair - I have wanted real curls all my life - and of course her eyes are dark because she is a woman of mystery. I'd like to pull threads out of my own cultural background and weave together a profile for her that includes Navajo and Irish, Galician and French, but this isn't fair. How can I give my character in fiction less than I have in fact? Wouldn't I want her to be so much more? And why do I want to edit my heritage just to make her look interesting on paper?
The answer to that one is simple. Of course I want her to look interesting on paper!
There was this really amazing girl in high school who had really amazing hair. In a decade notable for hair shoulder length or longer, this girl actually colored hers. She was a sophomore who was coloring early strands of gray hair. She had thick, medium brown hair that she rinsed with henna which gave her deep red highlights - or so we all thought. She was probably terrified that she would go completely gray before she graduated from college but she never let on. In fact, she made us all want henna but I didn't need it. I already had red and gold highlights in my hair.
Is Sarah Hightower coming into focus?
Sincerely,
Nilesite
Not wanting to sound superficial or politically incorrect, I have put some thought to what Sarah Hightower looks like? Hair, eyes, height, what does she wear, is she stylish, does she even care?
Much as I would like to say she doesn't care, I believe she does. Of course she has curly hair - I have wanted real curls all my life - and of course her eyes are dark because she is a woman of mystery. I'd like to pull threads out of my own cultural background and weave together a profile for her that includes Navajo and Irish, Galician and French, but this isn't fair. How can I give my character in fiction less than I have in fact? Wouldn't I want her to be so much more? And why do I want to edit my heritage just to make her look interesting on paper?
The answer to that one is simple. Of course I want her to look interesting on paper!
There was this really amazing girl in high school who had really amazing hair. In a decade notable for hair shoulder length or longer, this girl actually colored hers. She was a sophomore who was coloring early strands of gray hair. She had thick, medium brown hair that she rinsed with henna which gave her deep red highlights - or so we all thought. She was probably terrified that she would go completely gray before she graduated from college but she never let on. In fact, she made us all want henna but I didn't need it. I already had red and gold highlights in my hair.
Is Sarah Hightower coming into focus?
Sincerely,
Nilesite
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Traveling Light
Greetings to all!
So far, we have uncovered a passing sense of self-reliance and a hidden math ability. Sarah Hightower is coming into focus. She comes and goes over time, and in some instances, she becomes brilliantly clear but only for a moment. I see her in other people. I see the qualities that I can grab onto and at the end of the exercise, she starts to fade again only to resurface, reappear in someone else. But also, over time, I find that I am closing in on her, closing in on my fictional self, Sarah Hightower.
When I arrived at my freshman dorm on that first day of college, I was surrounded by girls who looked, for all intents and purposes, like me. They had come from small towns, big cities, farms, and a place I had only heard of, Long Island. The thing that we all had in common, other than this new address, was that our parents had loaded up the car with everything they thought we needed and driven us to college. Even now, if you drive by Barnard and Columbia on the days that new students move in, you will see this ritual played out every year - new student, wistful parents, cars full of a year's worth of clothes, food, equipment, and mementos.
There was one girl missing on my move-in day. We took an informal head count that evening and remarkably, one girl had not yet arrived. We all spent the rest of that evening unpacking all that gear. She breezed in the next morning. She had flown in, by herself, with nothing more than a backpack and an American Express card. I was enthralled. While I was buried in my small town stuff, she made do with a change of clothes until the next day when she went to Saks and bought what she needed. She then picked up some t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and a jacket on her way to buy books. Just like that, she was set and I was still unpacking.
That girl changed my life. I realized, watching her, that I too could travel light. I could prioritize my life in such a way that I didn't need the gear, the bags, the stuff. I would be known in my family as the one who travels light. This girl might have come in late to mask the fact that her family wasn't coming in with her the way mine did. I just figured her parents were spies or in a witness protection program. Sarah Hightower travels light and she travels alone.
And this is not to say that I am completely liberated from accumulating stuff. I just don't take it with me when I travel.
Sincerely,
Nilesite
So far, we have uncovered a passing sense of self-reliance and a hidden math ability. Sarah Hightower is coming into focus. She comes and goes over time, and in some instances, she becomes brilliantly clear but only for a moment. I see her in other people. I see the qualities that I can grab onto and at the end of the exercise, she starts to fade again only to resurface, reappear in someone else. But also, over time, I find that I am closing in on her, closing in on my fictional self, Sarah Hightower.
When I arrived at my freshman dorm on that first day of college, I was surrounded by girls who looked, for all intents and purposes, like me. They had come from small towns, big cities, farms, and a place I had only heard of, Long Island. The thing that we all had in common, other than this new address, was that our parents had loaded up the car with everything they thought we needed and driven us to college. Even now, if you drive by Barnard and Columbia on the days that new students move in, you will see this ritual played out every year - new student, wistful parents, cars full of a year's worth of clothes, food, equipment, and mementos.
There was one girl missing on my move-in day. We took an informal head count that evening and remarkably, one girl had not yet arrived. We all spent the rest of that evening unpacking all that gear. She breezed in the next morning. She had flown in, by herself, with nothing more than a backpack and an American Express card. I was enthralled. While I was buried in my small town stuff, she made do with a change of clothes until the next day when she went to Saks and bought what she needed. She then picked up some t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and a jacket on her way to buy books. Just like that, she was set and I was still unpacking.
That girl changed my life. I realized, watching her, that I too could travel light. I could prioritize my life in such a way that I didn't need the gear, the bags, the stuff. I would be known in my family as the one who travels light. This girl might have come in late to mask the fact that her family wasn't coming in with her the way mine did. I just figured her parents were spies or in a witness protection program. Sarah Hightower travels light and she travels alone.
And this is not to say that I am completely liberated from accumulating stuff. I just don't take it with me when I travel.
Sincerely,
Nilesite
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Circus Peanuts and Aspirin Bottles
Greetings to all!
I have two persistent memories of my grandmother. One is that she loved circus peanuts. She would keep a plastic bag in the bottom drawer of her desk and she would pull a few of those wonderful spongy things out at a time. I remember that my family would chuckle at her because, to be fair, they looked ridiculous, all dimply and orange and all. And they seemingly had no redeeming social values other than they were her snack.
The second memory is the little bottles of water she always kept in her purse. I know now that she was way ahead of her time - she was carrying water bottles a full 30 years before they became a fashion accessory. My grandmother would fill empty aspirin bottles with water and carry them with her on car trips in case she got thirsty. Sometimes she would share a tiny sip with us, other times, I would see her just take a little drink.
So what do circus peanuts and aspirin bottles have to do with my Sarah Hightower? One of the qualities that I always needed Sarah to have was total self-reliance. Even though my grandmother needed a great deal of support during her lifetime, in these two key instances, she displayed such remarkable independence and such a sense of how she was able to get the simplest things that she needed. If she needed a snack, she opened a drawer and if she needed a sip of water, she pulled a bottle out of her purse. I like that. I saw through the superficial silliness of recycling an aspirin bottle for car trips or stashing sticky sweets and saw a woman who was just getting what she needed. And even though she never owned a car or a home of her own and she never traveled the world or ran for office, she did, on this small level, just get the job done.
I really liked that.
Sincerely,
Nilesite
I have two persistent memories of my grandmother. One is that she loved circus peanuts. She would keep a plastic bag in the bottom drawer of her desk and she would pull a few of those wonderful spongy things out at a time. I remember that my family would chuckle at her because, to be fair, they looked ridiculous, all dimply and orange and all. And they seemingly had no redeeming social values other than they were her snack.
The second memory is the little bottles of water she always kept in her purse. I know now that she was way ahead of her time - she was carrying water bottles a full 30 years before they became a fashion accessory. My grandmother would fill empty aspirin bottles with water and carry them with her on car trips in case she got thirsty. Sometimes she would share a tiny sip with us, other times, I would see her just take a little drink.
So what do circus peanuts and aspirin bottles have to do with my Sarah Hightower? One of the qualities that I always needed Sarah to have was total self-reliance. Even though my grandmother needed a great deal of support during her lifetime, in these two key instances, she displayed such remarkable independence and such a sense of how she was able to get the simplest things that she needed. If she needed a snack, she opened a drawer and if she needed a sip of water, she pulled a bottle out of her purse. I like that. I saw through the superficial silliness of recycling an aspirin bottle for car trips or stashing sticky sweets and saw a woman who was just getting what she needed. And even though she never owned a car or a home of her own and she never traveled the world or ran for office, she did, on this small level, just get the job done.
I really liked that.
Sincerely,
Nilesite
Friday, July 9, 2010
Who is Sarah Hightower?
Greetings to all!
Did you ever get the sense that the better you was only steps ahead of you, just out of reach? Did you ever feel pushed toward something by a sense that your better you was right behind you? This is how I describe my doppelganger, my fictional character, the elusive yet ever-present Sarah Hightower.
I first became aware of her when I was in high school. She didn't have a name yet and her profile was not yet clear to me but she was the girl who could sit in math class, next to me actually, slowly, carefully pulling bits and shreds of a bologna sandwich out of her blazer pocket and still answer every single question correctly - sometimes steps ahead of the teacher. How did she accomplish this? She hid a photographic memory under a dizzy personality and all the while she had an aptitude for math that most girls still can't reach. I wanted to be her.
It's only recently that Sarah Hightower has come into focus. I am finding that after years of chasing her, of evading her, of missing her by inches, I am now as close to becoming her as I think I ever will be. Rather than losing myself into fiction, as I tried to do so many times in middle school while I was going through my secret agent phase, I think now she is becoming a fact. Don't think for a minute that I will change my name and appropriate her altogether. Rather, as I stay on my pilgrimage, I find her strength and agility comforting. She's been with me all my life, setting standards for me that I keep moving toward as they recede into the distance.
And don't think I really want a bunch of bread crumbs, mustard stains, or grease spots on the inside of my blazer pocket! It was that wonderful cavalier attitude toward my worst subject that I wanted. I wanted to be able to toss off math, to multi-task math, if you will. Ironically, as a discussion of fact and fiction approximating one another invariably must produce irony on some level, my math skills are pretty good.
That's how I finally started to recognize Sarah Hightower. I am just now starting to inhabit her strength and agility. How remarkable is that?
Did you ever get the sense that the better you was only steps ahead of you, just out of reach? Did you ever feel pushed toward something by a sense that your better you was right behind you? This is how I describe my doppelganger, my fictional character, the elusive yet ever-present Sarah Hightower.
I first became aware of her when I was in high school. She didn't have a name yet and her profile was not yet clear to me but she was the girl who could sit in math class, next to me actually, slowly, carefully pulling bits and shreds of a bologna sandwich out of her blazer pocket and still answer every single question correctly - sometimes steps ahead of the teacher. How did she accomplish this? She hid a photographic memory under a dizzy personality and all the while she had an aptitude for math that most girls still can't reach. I wanted to be her.
It's only recently that Sarah Hightower has come into focus. I am finding that after years of chasing her, of evading her, of missing her by inches, I am now as close to becoming her as I think I ever will be. Rather than losing myself into fiction, as I tried to do so many times in middle school while I was going through my secret agent phase, I think now she is becoming a fact. Don't think for a minute that I will change my name and appropriate her altogether. Rather, as I stay on my pilgrimage, I find her strength and agility comforting. She's been with me all my life, setting standards for me that I keep moving toward as they recede into the distance.
And don't think I really want a bunch of bread crumbs, mustard stains, or grease spots on the inside of my blazer pocket! It was that wonderful cavalier attitude toward my worst subject that I wanted. I wanted to be able to toss off math, to multi-task math, if you will. Ironically, as a discussion of fact and fiction approximating one another invariably must produce irony on some level, my math skills are pretty good.
That's how I finally started to recognize Sarah Hightower. I am just now starting to inhabit her strength and agility. How remarkable is that?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
What is a winter pilgrim?
Greetings to all!
Sometime around the death of Charlemagne, a pilgrim's guide was written and circulated in France and in Spain. It described a 500 mile route taken across northern Spain by foot or by horseback that pulled its travelers toward the end of the earth to the shrine of Saint James, called Santiago de Compostela. Typically, these dear souls would walk away from their lives for months at a time over mountains, across fields, and through villages on their way to visit the saint seeking any number of remedies. The route attracted artisans and builders as well and some of the most wonderful examples of medieval architecture and sculpture line this route.
Pilgrims who make the trek during the winter months endure special hardships that qualify them for additional spiritual benefits once they reach the saint. They deal with miserable weather, closed shops, and fewer friends to accompany them on their journey. I identify with these dear souls and wonder whether I might qualify as a winter pilgrim as I chart my trek around New York and in my travels with my children and my friends. I'd like to use this opportunity to share how I have come to this spiritual status and how I now find myself finally becoming the fictional character I always wanted to be.
Sincerely,
Nilesite
Sometime around the death of Charlemagne, a pilgrim's guide was written and circulated in France and in Spain. It described a 500 mile route taken across northern Spain by foot or by horseback that pulled its travelers toward the end of the earth to the shrine of Saint James, called Santiago de Compostela. Typically, these dear souls would walk away from their lives for months at a time over mountains, across fields, and through villages on their way to visit the saint seeking any number of remedies. The route attracted artisans and builders as well and some of the most wonderful examples of medieval architecture and sculpture line this route.
Pilgrims who make the trek during the winter months endure special hardships that qualify them for additional spiritual benefits once they reach the saint. They deal with miserable weather, closed shops, and fewer friends to accompany them on their journey. I identify with these dear souls and wonder whether I might qualify as a winter pilgrim as I chart my trek around New York and in my travels with my children and my friends. I'd like to use this opportunity to share how I have come to this spiritual status and how I now find myself finally becoming the fictional character I always wanted to be.
Sincerely,
Nilesite
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