Madonna of the Pomegranate detail by Sandro Botticelli, 1487
It's been a week of completed deadlines and crossed off to-do lists. Still, this week I've been thinking about all the things I've never really learned or understand. So let me share, here's where my mind is.
To the confessional--
I confess that I still never really know whose turn it is as a 4-way stop.
It's embarrassing to say, but I am the car that either waits for the wave or randomly darts when it looks/seems/could-possibly-be my turn.
I confess there are certain foods I don't eat because I never learned how to prepare or cook them.
Dear Pomegranate. Dear Beets. Dear Anything-to-do-with-Pork. Dear T-Bone steak.
(Though I confess I never learned to like steak.)
I confess I have never understood what exactly the "School of Quietude" was in poetry (and why I existed). And honestly, I guess I don't understand why we must try to label aspects of the same art. On that same note, I also find it interesting why artists/writers sometimes want to be labeled, when personally, I found I've spent my whole life trying to avoid them.
I confess I do no know how certain candy bars stay in business-- particularly the Idaho Spud Bar, 5th Avenue Bar, Oh Henry!, and Chunky chocolate. I don't think I've ever in my life seen anyone purchase one of these, but they must be.
Wait, as a child I think I purchased a Chunky chocolate. And I think it was good.
I confess I never learned to eat politely with a large fork or spoon, or even understand why restaurants use ridiculously large utensils. I swear, I have felt like Jack who has climbed the beanstalk when I eat at some restaurants.
I confess I never I learned how to say goodbye to someone I love(d).
While I have never been sentimental, sometimes I wrap myself up in nostalgia and fall asleep on the grass outside the stadium.
Sometimes I don't think I've learned how to not love someone. People leave our lives for various reasons and I don't think I have never learned how to let my favorite people go.