Dita Parker

Thursday, August 22, 2019

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

I’m waiting for it (that green light) I want it

Temperature: a humid 20/68 degrees

Eating: a Mediterranean couscous salad

Watching: Greta Thunberg set sail for NYC. Fair winds and following seas, älskling!

Listening: to the shit she has to take from trolls, politicians, lobbyists and the corporate sector…which just proves she hit a nerve, a really sensitive one, one that needs to be poked and poked hard.

Reading: what’s new at school

Thinking: The children and youth of today have every right to be angry, frustrated and disappointed, we’re failing this stewardship job of ours and we’re failing them.

Feeling: We can do better, agreed? Sooo much better, in both our private, personal, daily lives, and in a public capacity as citizens of our cities, countries and this planet of ours. Exploit and abuse, or cherish and protect? Which road and MO secures a future for all creatures, big and small?

Friday, August 2, 2019

Just an illusion

I see dead people. They don’t know they’re dead.* Or, rather, they don’t know they’re not real. They talk to me, tell me about their goals and dreams and fears, then ask me to sort it out for them. Help them get there. Get over it. Get through to him/her/them. Get payback. Get in. Get out.

That’s the task laid at my feet. Can you help me? I can try. They are, after all, my creation. It’s all in my head. These imaginary people leading imaginary lives with their imaginary hopes and problems. It’s the writer’s duty to breathe life into it all. Sort it out. Do justice to them. Do right by them. Help them get there, get over it, get through to him/her/them, get payback, get in, or out.

Sometimes it works and everyone lives happily ever after. Or miserably. Depends. Sometimes it’s a dud and what they’ve given me doesn’t add up. Something’s missing and won’t reveal itself. They’re shells and resist being more. They are lost and determined not to alter course. Some are cut-and-dried, some take time, but you know the ones who are worth it really are worth the trip there and back.

Writing. The life of a puppet master. Never let the strings show.



*The Sixth Sense