I’m not creative enough to even imagine my subject titles are remotely catchy. So, conjugating a two word phrase across these last three posts is a sad attempt at appearing cleaver. It’s mostly about a personal experiment, where I attempt to tone down the dry ass flavor of a philosophical deep thought diatribe, to a humorous narrative of the life I’ve lived. A story we’re all part of, once we relate to what we share in common.
Expressing ones story to the world can be a variety of things depending on perspective. What continually bubbles to the surface for me are experiences I can neatly wrap with a little humor. There must be a particular advantage of laughing over crying, or it wouldn’t provide the feelings of joy that it does. I remember family gatherings out on the farm, and the echoes of laughter from the adults gathered around Granny Bug’s big ole round cherrywood table. They chose that way of conversing over more somber methods.
No one here could know me from what I share as this laughable story teller, simply because I relate the deeper thought provoking aspects on this blog. Flushing out what strikes me as interesting or unjust or brilliant or beautiful has been the pattern for however many posts I’ve made thus far. I’m intrigued by what creates responses here, and can’t say I’m seeking any notariety of sorts with any of this, but words are built into the brand of the site. Maybe the words I can jot down will be as interesting as the photos from my travel and dining adventures 😍