Apr. 22nd, 2017

satyapriya: Macchu Picchu 2009 (Default)
I latched on to a vision of myself at about 15. I knew I was a writer, and would be a writer, and had had it pounded into me by various writing books that fiction writers don't make money. There were, as far as I knew, no millionaire writers, no multi-million dollar book contracts. Likely Stephen King, and Alex Haley, and Sidney Sheldon were making their marks in the world circa 1979, but I didn't read them.
The way to supporting oneself was journalism. Thus, Journalist Satya Vision was born. At 15, I saw myself at 40, alone in a hotel room, phoning in a story from some war-torn place. Outside the hotel, rubble-strewn dusty streets, and the sounds of gunfire and distant bombs. Inside my room, dim lighting due to dodgy electricity supply. Me on the phone, calling in a war story. And then sitting on my bed, looking at my scrawny, aged hands (at age 40!) and realising that I'd missed the good things in life - family, home, pets, children. Wondering what the hell my life was all about anyway.
That vision turned me against journalism. Not that I needed a lot of turning. Yes, I've written more than my fair share of articles, but not one has been a 'just the facts, sir' reporting.
The 60 Minutes lifestyle would not have suited me.
Where the fear of 'oh no, I wouldn't have that treasured family life' fear came from, I don't know. I wasn't a girl who played weddings with her dolls. (More like funerals, and a lot of sex) I planned on being an astronaut and writer, and my future self did not seem to be married or have children. Or if I was married, it was a means to an end - at that time, astronaut criteria included being an American citizen, and I figured the old 'marriage to an American' would fix that.
Likely, I imbibed the 'safety and security through a husband' stuff from society.
Anyway, I can now look back on Hardbitten Journalist Satya with amusement. That vision has not had a lot of power over me. I found my way into non-fiction writing through my Bachelor of Arts, and discovered I had a talent for feature articles, and personal essays.
I have continued on my way ever since, ranging across parenting and new age magazines, witchcraft mags, and belly dance sites. I continue my merry way through memoir and autobiography.
While this self-vision does not hold much sway in my life, I write it here as an intro to other blog posts about other visions that have clung much more fiercely, sometimes with teeth.
Hardbitten Journalist Satya signing off
satyapriya: Macchu Picchu 2009 (Default)
There are not enough of us to go
around:
those who chose to age,
to concern ourselves with tribal future.

We wise wimmin
travel the land along ancient lines,
healing with story, herb, bony touch.

Children explore our faces with wonder
for they do not know wrinkles,
the crevasses of the dark.

We are too few,
and needed too much.
Our stories are demanded,
but put it on the computer,
where I can read it later,
Old Woman.
Don't tell me truth
face to face.
The mirror of your eyes says too much.

So, we travel to where we are needed
but not wanted.
The adults hurry us on,
while children reach out their hands,
their mouths round O's of more.

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satyapriya: Macchu Picchu 2009 (Default)
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