Jill-of-all-trades

I’ll never be able to get a tattoo.  Not because I’m afraid of the pain. It’s because I can’t settle on the message. Do I want a fleur de lis? A sunflower? A frog? An owl? A quote? Each of these has a different message it projects to people who see it. I met a girl once who had a shamrock tattooed on her inner thigh with the words “Lucky you” inscribed underneath. Cheeky! But…could I commit to that level of cheekiness for all time? I can’t even commit to cheeky for a week – it dissolves into introspection or malaise. Or I just get hungry for a cookie.

I’ve worked in advertising and media for a while and I suspect a Consultant would say my brand is not defined enough.

Look at my bookshelves – the poetry of Emily Dickinson and Pablo Neruda, fantasy by Gaiman and Tolkien, essays by David Foster Wallace and the Dalai Lama. I can’t stick to a single genre!

The first book I wrote probably won’t get published because it includes the following: steampunk, Greek mythology, Shakespeare, gothic ghosts, demons, talking animals, and Joan of Arc’s sword.

So many different styles of clothing appeal to me. I could just as easily rock a 1960’s A-line dress with black eyeliner as I could a velvet frock coat and bustle, a flapper-style dropwaist, or a ball gown. I see these people who really commit to that preppy 1980’s look with the madras shorts and polo shirts with popped collars or women with long long Crystal Gale hair and flowy Pyramid Collection clothes. Again, I like them all. Let’s do them all!

I like to do some crafts – I like sewing and gluing things together, scrapbooking, anything with glitter involved. But I’m not like THE person you go to for collage help because it’s not THE ONLY thing I do, right?

There are always those people who fit into that slot they’ve either cultivated or fallen into. “Oh, Liza is a poet.” And she’s always “Liza the poet.” She’s always doing poetry, never short stories or newspaper articles. She’s never NOT Liza the poet because somehow she has BECOME poetry. Or it’s “Dave, the guy who loves beagles.” And then it’s forever Davethebeagleguy.

I just have my fingers in too many pies. (I like making pie, too.) A Jill of all trades and mistress of none.

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