Life is a Series of Tangents

I have taken a circuitous journey to where I am, often finding myself unraveling and then raveling again. Stuck and yet not stuck. Stumbling blindly and then tumbling for joy. Lost and found.

I write, sometimes well. I am surrounded by artists, though I am not one. I believe that creativity is a muscle that needs to be exercised and exercised in different ways, so I dabble – constantly. And encourage others to do so, particularly to keep me accountable.

I was introduced to the idea of “ugly creativity” by a friend to whom I am forever grateful. Pick something random to be creative in, do not try to master it, but instead do it with complete joyful abandon in its imperfections. As life in general should be, but never seems to be, no matter how much I resolve. Much like the knitting that is my ugly creativity.

I tilt at windmills. I believe in impossible things and especially dreams. And in the wild winds of fortune carrying me onward.  

I love books and writing but have struggled to do both in the last few years – hence my present “sabbatical”, where I am succeeding more with the drawing than the writing or the reading.

Once, I hoped to be a songwriter (and still someplace have tapes of me singing my lyrics), but of course I also once wanted to be a bus driver as I planned to have 19 kids (I'm nothing but practical) – obviously, neither of those have panned out.

Instead, I love animals and have two dogs. One of which might have a drinking problem; while the other is clearly a reincarnated World War II doughbo7 – or a politician. (Don’t ask.) 

I was born in the North, grew up in the Middle, went to college in the South, and live in the West.  

Still hoping to write the Great American Novel – what writer isn’t? Am a little concerned I may have to go on a bender to do it: I often do my best writing while drinking. In fact, my "simpatico" friend, who is many years sober, once dared me to do just that. But first, I need to do a better job of prioritizing the writing.... 

Which is the tangent that led me to here.  To the adventure which is Relevant Tangents.

When I was young, it was common to hear the long sigh and then “oh here she goes again on one of her irrelevant tangents”.  And then usually laughter – half exasperated and half impressed – when the realization sunk in that the detour was neither irrelevant nor a tangent. 

As really, what is an irrelevant tangent? Aren’t some of the best discussions sparked by the meanderings of the mind? The random topic that leads you down a surprising thread? Just as the best discoveries are made in the dusty forgotten corners of the building or along the smaller Blue Highways of the trip? Or, yes, as the famous poem tells us, down the path less taken? 

In that sense, all tangents are actually relevant and irrelevance is, well, irrelevant.  Every moment offers us learning, growth and experience. It is an education that we should not miss; made up of disparate parts, bits and pieces, even flotsam and jetsam – all tiny threads of knowledge.

So, it is not surprising that my own life has been and continues to be a series of tangents, all relevant in their irrelevance and irrelevant in their relevance.  

Relevant Tangents is about those threads. Those bits and pieces that make up the whole. The digressions and asides in life that are often the main paths of our journey.

Or at least my journey.  

And who am I? I am a tangent in and of myself…