I’m a private talker but a transparent writer. It can’t be helped. My voice is as quiet as a church mouse, sounding more like a 9-year-old little girl than a 24-year-old college graduate, but it comes out alive and strong on paper. Now I've tried speaking up, but it sounds like I'm yelling. Scares people. So I talk like I was intended to.
My singing voice, though, is a whole different story. I sing just like I write. Loud, grown up, exposed, and confident. It’s like all this sass that I have is let loose. The real me is blasted at full volume, and it feels good. Like taking a deep breath of fresh air and letting it all out. I imagine it’s also like how a bird feels when he’s flying high above the world, no one to bother him, or tell him what to do. All there is to do is just fly. Ever since I was a little girl, nose stuck in a book in my “secret room”, which was really just a cardboard box, I’ve wanted to fly. Wings spread wide, heart pounding, the horizon as big as I can dream it. Stories took me places, away from the arguing and yelling and far from the small town with its narrow thoughts. I know now why I have such a love affair with travel and adventure, novels and writing.
My favorite question to ask is "why?" Drove my parents crazy when I was little. "Why does brudder (brother) smell funny?" or "Why can Mamaw take her teeth out?" or "Why can't I take my teeth out?" Curiosity didn't kill the cat, old age did. Life is too short to stop asking questions, and it's definitely too short to stop living life. Get your Caramel Frappucino with whip, jump from a plane strapped to a man with a parachute, and be relentlessly curious.
To be curious you've got to be a little bit crazy. This blog was born to make my crazy transparent. Here's to the Crazy Aunt Betty living inside of all of us.
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