Meet Denise Ellen Hudson. She’s 14 or 15. She talks a LOT. My friend Somer just showed her to me. I have known HER for half my life in different incarnations. She’s familiar and strange. She’s not really from this place. She once drew the Xondorian logo on her shoe. I think it was from one of the cities Xylogon or something like that. This is probably because she sometimes played the Xylophone and she was not very original.
She wrote poetry in a notebook called “It Used to Be Red” and kept a diary in a little yellow book with green flowery-things on it. I think it’s in the closet in a box. I know where it is and it’s ready to be moved in with the rest of the things I have to go through. I have to decide what Old-Denise needs to throw away.
There are things that old-Denise should probably quit dwelling upon. Nice to remember, bad to dwell.
Denise is me obviously. Denise has not learned to write lists yet, or songs. She does not really know how to sing. In fact, she doesn’t KNOW that she CAN sing.
She plays the piano, but not that well at the point of this photograph. She thinks she’s real good of course. She has a secret passion for pairs figure skating already and she plans to be a fantasy novelist. She’s IS probably one of the better piano players in her high school, and later on will go onto school and study with someone who is pretty amazing to her. She will NOT be one of the better piano players at her university, and CERTAINLY not good enough to “concertize” (which should not really be a verb but is anyway, which Present Denise thinks is snooty).
Denise is what the Australians (later, she marries one. Denise has always been fascinated by the oddnesses about people. She REALLY likes people) call a “show pony.” She LOVES attention. This has not really changed. We live in a world where it is difficult to admit that we like attention. She has been dealing with THIS since she was half the age she was in the photo.
I am cleaning my house, now, in 2010. I have found pictures of Denise’s mother. No one told Denise that she wouldn’t have a mother in 2007, which doesn’t seem like very long away when you REALLY think about it instead of thinking about boring Algebra. Or her first stepmother, and that in only three years. I can’t remember when THIS Denise started being a vegetarian, but when her first stepmother was killed, she attacked the meat tray the day she heard about it, because you do mindless things like that when you are grieving even though you KNOW you are going to get sick.
The watch I found was hers. Her name was Michelle. She was very pretty and I have her wallet. My dad didn’t remarry for quite a while. His wife-of-the-present is a very good mom and very sweet and we are friends on facebook. She’s helping my father open up a business, which is hard in his field. My father has not yet learned to operate facebook. A lot of my family is now using facebook, and it is extremely odd.
The internet is extremely odd, odder still because the Denise is the photo fell madly in love with a boy who was VERY into computers and Denise did not understand this. Now she is sitting her blogging, surrounded by audio equipment, worrying she will lose her iLok key during the move (i’m totally going to lose my iLok key during the move) *see latest Artifiction list (item #2).
I have seen lots of Denises today.
I am thinking a lot about this because this year has been full of change in a five-year-period of change in a decade of change. I instinctively feel that this is the year of a gear switch and then a powerful shove off into a firm direction. I don’t talk much about that. Decisions will be made. I have to be careful and smart. I have to define and I have to have pretty eyes, sure, but without cheap and clumpy mascara.
Denise has always liked shoes. Sometimes you need comfy ones and sometimes it doesn’t matter.
This has nothing to do with the subject at hand. Perhaps I am just tired. Maybe I just needed to do something for me. Maybe I am thinking of the time when, in less than an hour, I have to go back in the closet and put all these shoes away. Maybe I’m wondering what shoes I might wear to make an escape in. Something black and “fade-y” right through the exit door of course I’m running away
Who quotes themself!!!???
Lots of people. People who are confident. People who do whatever they want. And there’s nothing wrong with being that person. It’s just very important to rotate around oneself, rather than what I have been doing since I was the Denise that you see above… in that photo.
Cute, but clueless. I’m pretty sure at somepoint I’ll hit a happy medium and stick there.