speedy shots over the space
between miser- and revelr-y
letting feelings flow like storms,
or storing the nuts for winter.
So when i watch my crazy reflected, i should not be surprised...
Obsession, in the rebelangel's world, comes in the form of the toys she's playing with at the moment. She flings herself wholeheartedly into a love for one brand or another, while i stand back in awe at her vigor. When i watch my crazy reflected, i should not be surprised...
Right now it's Barbie that's caught her eye. (Before the more feminist among us gasp, you really must know that most of them were inherited from my childhood collection; thus in this case hypocrisy is a bigger evil than the threat of lowered self esteem.) She spends hours in her room singing soft songs about their exploits, dressing them up in this outfit and that one, daydreaming about Barbie campers, dream houses, hairdos...
Before that it was Littlest Pet Shop, before that My Little Pony, before that Build-A-Bear... and on and on as far back as toddlerhood when Dora came on the scene and made her sing those crazystupid songs about how we did it, we did it... me siento loco por que we did it...
She loves these things like children -- a love that takes on new dimensions with every passing moment --
and then she drops them for no reason whatever.
For me, it's not so much toys. It could be any manner of person, place or thing -- those naked nouns just waiting for me to complete them. I'll dress that mannequin up in Gucci, carefully ironing around the buttons, polishing the shoes, applying makeup and coiffing the hair, getting everything just so, barely thinking of anything else. Then someone flips on the lights and the makeup looks garish; the Gucci looks douche-y, everything's wrong. It could be men, or this blog, or any number of other new exciting things i take on. Hot. Flip. Cold.
I can rationalize and intellectualize a lot of things to come to some conclusion about how i should proceed with this rebelangel -- but usually that's when her shenanigans are not ones that i share.
When i watch my crazy reflected, i barely know what to do. I don't want to temper her happiness, or mine, when it comes along. But this feast or famine business... well it's bizn-ass. To pull back from the famine and work more on the sustainable food, i have to do something. And perhaps that means doing less at first.
Perhaps i need to display a little restraint with the next mannequin, and hope she does the same after Barbie goes the way of Dora. Sustainable food.