Monday, September 18, 2006

Monday in the BAD! Kitty Lands


BAD! Kitty Art Studio
Quote for the Day:
***
"I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.
If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was raining very hard.
That is my name.
Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong- "Sorry for the mistake,"- and you had to do something else.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was a game that you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.
That is my name.
Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stared into a river. There was somebody near you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. then it happened.
That is my name.
Or you heard someone calling from a great distance. Their voice was almost an echo.
That is my name.
Perhaps you were lying in bed, almost ready to go to sleep and you laughed at something, a joke unto yourself, a good way to end the day.
That is my name.
Or you were eating something good and for a second forgot what you were eating, but still went on, knowing it was good.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was around midnight and the fire tolled like a bell inside the stove.
That is my name.
Or you felt bad when she said that thing to you. She could have told it to someone else: Somebody who was more familiar with her problems.
That is my name.
Perhaps the trout swam in the pool but the river was only eight inches wide and the moon shone on iDeath and the watermelon fields glowed out of proportion, dark and the moon seemed to rise from every plant.
That is my name."
~Richard Brautigan From the book "In watermelon sugar" 1968
***
I was a weird kid, I learned to read late, because I had dyslexia, and they thought I was a dumb bunny. My I.Q. in reality, hovers just a few points below Einstein's. This is before cable TV, video games, personal computers, and teachers who knew what dyslexia even was. When I started memorizing the words they gave me to learn so fast that they could not keep up with me any longer, they sent me back to the regular classrooms, with the regular kids, who all knew how to sound out words, I just knew what the words were.
I became addicted to reading back in those days, and now read at about 1500 words per minute, with an almost photographic memory.
When I was a kid, I read 12 to 15 books a week, and my allowance was spent in the paperback book trader store. I would take in a dozen books to trade and come out with a dozen books to read, half I paid for the other half were credit for the books I brought back. After a year of seeing my face behind a large stack of books about everything I could find, the old lady that owned the store, just told me to take them and bring them back every week, she was tired from just watching me, and having to keep up with my account.
I was careful, never tore pages, never creased the bindings, so the books were in just as good of shape when I brought them back.
When I was in trouble growing up, my parents would punish me, by taking away my books. I hated that more than anything.
Today, with an adults life I can only read about half of what I did as a child.
I only read 6 books a week on average now.
I still have a photographic memory, although my retention is only at about 80% of what it was when I was younger and my brain worked like a sponge on crack.
I skipped four grades in school and was the youngest Homecoming queen my high school had ever had. I went to college just so the schools could keep me in books, as I had read them all they had in the library already. I would read the phone books of towns I was in when I traveled as a child, thinking they were very interesting, all those names listed, with numbers...very interesting to me at least. I used to walk down the street reading a book, and never look up, or look where I was going...I never tripped or ran into anyone, like my Grandmother kept saying I was going to do someday. She was afraid I would break my neck, she told everyone at her weekly bridge group. I used the prop up my book and fold clothes, cook dinners, and do household chores. I used to read anything at all, but now I am more selective. I used to write letters to my favorite authors, telling them what I thought of the stories they wrote, and I have several hand written letters back from them. Richard Brautigan is one of them, he sent me a copy of Watermelon Sugar with the letter, and I wrote to tell him thank you, but after reading the book, I thought that he had the wrong idea about how old I was at the time.
I was 10.
He thought I was 20 something, he said when he wrote back, I was a little younger than his own daughter at the time, he was embarrassed, I was thrilled.
Arthur C. Clark also wrote me once, he said I should think about boys more...so I thought about girls instead. I don't like doing as I am told.
I was 13.
I love to read.
So why am I telling you this story?
Because I wanted you to know
my name.
Be well, Live Well,
and share the love.
Heather

3 comments:

Blurr said...

Yet again, another great read by the Great HMBT! Thanks for sharing that great story. :) I love to read as well but I never find the time anymore AND I'm very selective with what I read. I am very picky it seems...lol.

HMBT said...

Picky is good. Thanks Blurr! Everyone go over and see Blurrs new works, as they freaking rock the house, and I can't comment on Blurr's blog, becaus I have switched to blogger beta...and so Blurr, your new stuff Rocks, love that one handed design on the new braclet...good design, and great work! Psst! Blurrs blog link is to the right...
Heather

Blurr said...

Lol, thanks Heather. Glad you like and thanks so much for the link!! :)