Windy Night in Miami - Miami Dolphins Lose.. Again...
So... as the saying goes. On any given Sunday any team can win a football game... except the Miami Dolphins it seems. Then again, I did get to watch Chambers catch a great pass today...it was of course for San Diego...
Okay, truth is I missed the game. I didn't watch. I took the old weather radio/FM/AM radio to the Book Fair and then I forgot to turn it on. Just as well, I had fun and it was less stress so I shouldn't be upset for missing that disaster..
The Miami Book Fair was very good. Erica Jong spoke well about life, writing, being an older woman and what it is like to live your life after you have achieved your greatest accomplishments early on. She didn't say it but I will, sort of makes your whole life anti-climatic doesn't it? She was right though, very few women except the French write about life as they get older. Maybe the French care more about their women of age? Or, she is wrong and just set in her views. I suppose if I had time I would google it.
She spoke about muses and writers (something I know a lot of) and I realized again today how defensive women writers are about the role of a muse. For some reason women writers vs male writers are very defensive about the role of a muse. Women writers pretend to see a muse as something that male writers have.. you know the classic image of a muse and you know what I think? I think men are more honest and admit their relationship with a muse yet most women will not admit the relationship they have with their muse or the input that their muse made in their writing. Maybe it's just one of those things like masturbation. Men are always talking about masturbation yet women never want to admit they do it or talk about it. Or farting, women never want to admit they fart whereas men... sort of bask in the afterglow of a good fart.
So my point is that women writers who are also muses are just as creative when they are helping create as when they themselves are creating if not more. A muse talks, a writer writes, a muse thinks out loud.. a writer records. A muse thinks, speaks, muses, ponders, wonders, playfully speaks and a writer takes it and basically rewrites it to fit his needs and paraphrases it to the degree that if he was in college he would be booted out for plagiarizing ... and yet.... a muse lets him or her do so and delights in the product of the labor of their effort. It is the true definition I suppose of unconditional love of a muse (of either sex) for their writer (of either sex) and as Erica said so well.. it is a very sexual, creative process. Sexuality and creativity being linked. And, yet... she doesn't want to admit she has a muse, which I suppose is like a woman not wanting to admit she masturbates or farts.
Sorry... guess you know now how scatological Bobbi can be, on occasion of course.
Of course as good as Erica was and the really good lady I don't remember who wrote a book called Ahab's Wife (I think) ...it was nothing compared to the 3 hour or more of programs I listened to about Cuba, before and after Fidel, before and after the revolution. Wow, my mind is still reeling. Hard to believe I am not Cuban, but then again... I went to 1st grade in Little Havana (Calle Ocho) the year that the Cuban Missle Crises brought me my friends Maria, Maria and Elizabeth, Marta, Mirta and Maria Elizabeth and I'm waiting also for that day when the news is confirmed that Fidel has passed on to that prison in the sky that resembles the one he locked people away in on Isle of Pines and his brother Raoul joins him and there is a chance for all those Cubans in "inzile" and working underground to undo the wrongs that Fidel has done that beautiful island just across the Straits from Key West.
So........................ that was my day today. Turned on the radio after I left and realized the Fins had lost, what a year, what a record we seem to be going for..
Weather wise. Boy, is it windy here tonight or what?
Came home to a great BBQ my older kids made.
Miami was beautiful today, sparkled in the sunshine, not too cold, not too hot.
Had a wonderful talk with a man named Neil E. Hurley (no relation to Hurley E. Hayes) about his book on light houses and some people selling books on Vegetarian Cooking.
Going to bed. I miss Drudge. Well, I miss him on the radio. I miss his music. I do have a large collection of Windmills of My Mind but it's not the same as listening and waiting to see what he will surprise me with on Sunday evenings.
Hope he and his father are well.
Hope those writers get this problem resolved and we aren't even talking about the Stage Hand Union striking ...who knew?
Waiting on a windy Sunday Night in Miami to hear the news that Castro has passed on..
And, wondering why it is that women writers refuse to talk about, or acknowledge the role of a muse the way men do. Funny that Erica could speak of Henry Miller with such ease and then goes silent on Anais Nin. Maybe she's jealous. Maybe she lost her muse?
I know where mine is... smiling, here, there and everywhere waiting to make me smile, IM me with a little tinkerbell sound or sending me a text message while he is out there somewhere saving the world :) and or writing, which ever comes first!
Ps................yes I really did write all of this! I'm in an amused mood!
I love a windy night!
Show me a writer.. I'll show you a muse hiding somewhere smiling mischevously..
or staring like mona lisa keeping her secrets and his inside
women have muses too..
even muses have their muse, smile
great song.. God Bless the Child That's Got His Own.........mama mayhem ;) thank u