© 2009
Julie Jordan Scott
I am avoiding, once again, writing what I set out to write about here.
I wanted to write about my fixation this week on Umbrellas. I chose them as a metaphor for a poem I was working on and in a quick matter of course, became more curious than I would ever imagine about Umbrellas.
I found myself wandering down a 300+ word journey that was valuable, but wasn’t at all what I wanted to say in the first place. It was a ruse, a detour designed by the side of me that only wanted to ice skate along the surface.
So, with that – I will pick up where I was about to leave off and if you are intrigued and curious about what I was about to say, I will put a link at the end of this journey to the alternative journey.
Did you know, for example, that the word "umbrella" has as its root word in the Latin "umbra", meaning shade or shadow? My umbrella metaphor was about accepting protection and believing the umbrella was going to be a shield from the elements. “How interesting!”, the now aware me exclaims.
In my collage work, though, I had written “Don’t hide” repeatedly along the edges of the umbrella I created from a feathery magazine advertisement.
I didn’t know about the shadow aspect of umbrella at this point. Carl Jung would have been delighted to watch my endeavoring in the murky grey. When I started using “umbrella” as a metaphor and visual counterpoint to my poetry writing, I had no idea why it flooded my brain so insistently. If I had known the “real meaning” I may have taken it into an entirely different direction with a spiral leading me more purposefully into a darker space.
It is interesting, too, because I was using the Umbrella metaphor primarily as a shield and a way to hide. I was using it as a “less than” metaphor.
I asked Cameron to sketch me some umbrellas. We talked about the wacky umbrella’s that were the rage for the tweens of 1970’s Glen Ridge, New Jersey. It was an umbrella that was usually clear with a rim of color and deep, like a bell, so much so that a young girl could either cover herself up to her shoulders with it or do like I would do. I used it as a scoop, to collect water from large puddles and then let the water flow over my head, drenching myself on purpose in the middle of huge rainstorms as I walked home from school.
Somehow, my mother never got mad at me for doing this.
The adult me thought, “Wow, my Mom didn’t care about me. She let me drench rather than protect myself” but Cameron had a different take. “Creativity gets squelched when we take away a child’s desire to experiment and experience moments like those.”
Perspective instantly shifted.
Mom wasn’t neglecting my health, she was allowing my creativity to soar.
Umbrellas may be shady and dark, or they may be conduits to creativity.
Interesting. All of it. And being interested in all of this is what keeps a passionate life style invigorated and alive.
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If you want to see a photo of an umbrella similar to the one I played with in those days, visit here.
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Julie publishes her ezine, the Daily Passion Activator, which includes an Essay and a Poem every week day - inspiration delivered directly into your email box - Why not Subscribe today? It's free.
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