Laura Rush » Life

Incongruity

Laura Rush — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 17:18:33 +0000

A holdout from the old days

I’m working in downtown D.C. again, and I love wandering the streets of the city and exploring.

I came across this building a few months ago, an old holdout almost swallowed up by the new high rise building engulfing it.

I wonder what its story is.

Was this building so loved that the owner couldn’t bear to sell it? How did it come to pass that a whole block of old buildings disappeared except for this one?

The juxtaposition of new on top of old isn’t new, I know. There are examples of it all over the city.

But I like this little holdout building. It seems willful and stubborn. It looks up at its bullying neighbor through squinted eyes, defiantly ignoring the invasion of its personal space. It has the tenacity to continue to exist when the flat expanse of glass and concrete surrounding it so clearly says that it shouldn’t.

It’s got moxie, and I admire that.

Handwritten journals and deliberate writing

Laura Rush — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 20:00:42 +0000

My leather-covered journal at the start of its life.

I’ve always been fascinated by journals and diaries. I wrote often in journals during my childhood and adolescence, but I stopped writing in a physical journal for a long time during my adulthood, preferring the ease of typing my thoughts on a computer with a keyboard.

But even after I went digital, I always loved browsing through the shelves of journals at bookstores. There’s just something fantastic about all those blank pages bound between the covers. They’re the essence of a story waiting to be told. What choices are you going to make in life? Where are you going to go? Who will you meet there? Looking at a blank journal is like imagining all the possible adventures that could fill a lifetime.

So even though I still like the ease and quickness of composing text with a keyboard, I bought a Moleskine journal earlier this year with the intention of getting back into keeping a handwritten journal.

I also found a beautiful leather cover for it on Etsy.com. I like the idea that even though a journal will eventually be full and stored away on a shelf or in a box, the cover will remain constant. This journal cover could travel with me for decades, accumulating all of life’s inevitable bumps and scratches on its well-worn leather the same way I’ll acquire crow’s feet around my eyes and grey in my hair.

I’ve discovered over the last few months that writing by hand is a completely different way of writing. My usual style of writing is to type a raw thought and rework it endlessly until it says what I want it to say. But the journal forces me to slow down. I can’t write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts, so I think more about what I want to write before I pick up a pen. It requires patience in a way that writing on the computer doesn’t.

Writing in a handwritten journal is a deliberate act. My fingers don’t fly across the keyboard to string together words. There is no backspace key to conveniently erase the awkward phrase I’ve just written and replace it with something more succinct or clever. My journal is a record of all my faults and mistakes (not to mention my bad handwriting).

It forces me to be more forgiving of myself. I’ll look back at things I’ve written and want to edit and revise to make them better. But I can’t. It’s already written down in pen — there’s no taking it back. And so all I can do is accept it as it is and let it go. Everything doesn’t have to be perfect.

It’s a good lesson.

I’m going to try to keep it up. What about you — does anyone else have a handwritten journal?

ISO the perfect dress

Laura Rush — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 04:14:12 +0000

remix 20.10.08 by et sans, on Flickr

I usually find shopping exhausting, but there’s a special kind of tiredness associated with searching the stores for a dress to wear to a wedding.

My criteria:
It has to be slightly nicer than what I would wear to a non-casual office, but also not too businessy or bridesmaidy looking. I don’t want black or white or a really bright color. But it should be a color that will match a pair of shoes I already own, so I don’t have to buy new shoes. It needs to fit me well and flatter me, but it can’t be too revealing (trampy) or unrevealing (dowdy). It should look classy and modern, but still have somewhat traditional lines because I just don’t get all the crazy fashion forward stuff Carrie wears on ‘Sex and the City.’

Really, is all this too much to ask?

Also — and I’m going to date myself here — I’m having a hard time switching to bare legs under a dress after decades of wearing pantyhose. I know that pantyhose has been “out” for a long time now, and I’ve sort of sidestepped the whole issue for the last few years by simply not wearing skirts. I generally prefer pants to skirts, anyway, but I haven’t quite made the leap to wearing some kind of elegant pantsuit to a wedding. Some women do it, and they look great, but I just don’t feel like I’m an elegant pantsuit kind of person. Plus, the wedding is in Vermont in October, so it seems like bare legs under a dress would just be downright cold.

So now I’m thinking maybe boots would be a good solution to avoid the bare legs issue, but then not all dresses are going to look good with knee-high boots. Aaaaaand now I have to back to the second paragraph to add more items to my perfect dress criteria.

I think I’m going to blame ‘Project Runway’ for this exhausting search for the perfect outfit. I keep imagining what Tim Gunn would say as I try on dress after dress. So far, he hasn’t said much that’s nice.

I probably tried on about 20 dresses tonight. I bought the two best ones to bring them home and think them over, but I’m not convinced that I’m keeping either of them.

My inner Tim is not yet happy, but I’ve still got three weeks to figure it out. Three. exhausting. weeks.

Any advice?

Percolating

Laura Rush — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 04:12:19 +0000

I remember the old metal percolator that my Mom used to make coffee when I was a kid, before the days of the automatic coffee machine. I liked to watch the coffee bounce up into the hollow glass knob on the lid when it was hot and, well, percolating.

But tonight I’m remembering a different use of the word percolate. A guest speaker at one of my journalism classes talked to the class about her feeling that stories sometimes have to “percolate” a certain amount of time before they’re ready to show to other people.

I’ve been working on putting together a short video documentary today, and the project doesn’t feel quite right yet. I think it’s close, but I’m still waiting for that magic “Yes!” moment, when I know I’ve said what I want to say in the best way possible. So I’ve decided a little percolation is in order.

One of the definitions of percolate is: “to show activity, movement, or life; grow or spread gradually; germinate.” The optimism of the word strikes a chord in me. It’s so hopeful in its efforts to grow into something.

I’m going to put this project away tonight and let it sit in the back of my head for a little while. I think with a little more time and thought, it will germinate into something worthwhile.

Getting started is the hardest part

Laura Rush — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 21:39:22 +0000

An empty blog is like a fresh, clean piece of paper. It’s so pristine in its newness that I have a difficult time writing on it. What can I write that won’t detract from its state of unspoiled perfection?

There, I’ve messed it up a bit. It will be easier to write now. Get ready.