DawnPapuga.com — Reality 101

Maybe the most appropriate day to take a picture of a daffodil
Originally uploaded by roksoslav

When people ask, “What’s your favorite flower?” most look surprised when I respond, “Daffodils.” They expect the traditional “Roses, of course!” response, and daffodils generally take folks by surprise. Don’t get me wrong, I love roses! But there’s just something that touches my heart with daffodils. They make me happy. They kindle a joy in me that I sometimes forget can be there. They’re like a highlighter for my world.

While I like the multicolored daffodils and the white ones, I have an affinity for the brilliant yellows. And the flowers themselves are beautiful. It’s hard to explain what moves me so much about these flowers… maybe it’s their personalities? To me, daffodils have some very human qualities and expression. That could be the writer in me, or it could just be my overactive imagination, but I don’t think I’m alone here. I’ve gathered some amazing images from Flickr–some of my favorites– and if you just go pop “daffodil” into the search, you’ll start to see what I mean.

The image above, for example, makes me ache a little when I see it. The yellow daffodil in the foreground seems pensive to me–sad even. Notice the other white daffodils have their “backs” turned to this yellow one. I can’t help but think that yellow daffodil feels lonely, or marginalized, or like the white daffodils are disappointed in it. See? Over active imagination. Maybe it’s the shape of the flower that causes me to attribute such human qualities to daffodils, or the way that the bloom balances on the stem. I don’t know what it is, but I know that the very minute I have a garden to plant something in, daffodils will be the first thing I plant.

Write well,

Dawn

Considering how much I love comic books and graphic novels, it comes might come as a bit of a surprise to you that I’ve never actually been to a ComiCon.  It surprises me too.  I guess I just never had time to go before, and if I did have time I was usually exhausted and trying to catch up on sleep so I could work one of my 5 jobs.  Ha!  Not so now! 

Aside from seeing all the cool stuff, writers, inkers, and the crazy costumes that are sure to flood the Expomart today, I go with a purpose.  I promised Norm I’d help him man the booth he has there for his day job (The man’s a superhero, and every superhero needs a secret identity–everyone knows this.  And no.  I won’t tell you how he fights injustice or crime!).  I also intend on mining the geniuses present for information and advice about submitting scripts.  I don’t know that I’ll have any success in this area (I’m sure everyone and their mother has the same questions), but it’s worth a shot.  My co-writer and I should be ready to submit by the end of summer, if not sooner, and any tips to avoid being tossed in the can before it’s even read would be helpful. 

I also heard rumor that there are IronMan preview tickets being raffled off…

I am so there. 

One of my favorite movies is White Christmas.  Yeah, it has the memorable songs, and the romance, and the dancing, but early in the film Danny Kaye tries to set up Bing Crosby on a blind date.  Crosby’s character isn’t interested.  He’s never interested.  So why does Kaye persist?  45 minutes.

Phil Davis (Danny Kaye): I want you to get married. I want you to have nine children. And if you only spend five minutes a day with each kid, that’s forty-five minutes, and I’d at least have time to go out and get a massage or something.

That moment to myself, that 45 minutes that Phil Davis so eagerly seeks, is something I’ve been looking for forever.  Today, I realized that it’s not just about the time itself, but the people you spend it with.  The world was off kilter for me today–I woke up from a 12 hour, dead sleep “nap” in time to get ready for work feeling quite unlike myself.  I just felt… different.  It’s difficult to explain, I suppose.  If you’ve never woken up and felt like someone else, or not like yourself, let me assure you… It’s unsettling.  So I went to lunch thinking that I could walk around and clear my head.  Who knows, perhaps I could get some writing done.  But it didn’t quite work out like that.

I never thought I’d ever find a place much like Tuscaloosa here in Pittsburgh.  I miss Tuscaloosa.  I miss the south.  I miss the hospitality, the kindness, the attention to every person around you, the sun, and the sweet tea.  Today I realized that those things are here in Pittsburgh, right in the Strip.  Everyone knows you, everyone remembers what it is you buy, or what you order, or what kind of flowers you asked about last time you stopped by to decorate your desk.  They ask your where you’ve been when you don’t stop in for a week, and they ask about your family.  They remember your name and things about you.  And they yell at you if you leave your food sitting too long while checking out dried fruits.  “Dawn!  What’re you doin’?  You’re food’s gettin’ cold! Go eat!”  These folks are genuine.  Many of the stores are still family businesses, and the owners themselves are the ones welcoming you as you walk in the door.  This may not surprise some of you, but I managed to miss out on this before I moved to Alabama.  Maybe I had to move there to appreciate what was always here… I’m feeling a little like Dorothy waking up from her trip to Oz.

After making my regular rounds to Hermanowski’s, Sunseri’s, the secondhand bookstore, and the guy selling flowers in the Tent, I stopped into the 21st Street Cafe and got myself a large Mint Iced Tea.  It was when I was sitting outside in the sun sipping that tea that I had a profound feeling of relief.  And just as I watched Smallman transform from two lanes to six (complete with honking horns, loud music, and expletives not deleted), I had one of the very few epiphanies of my life. 

I was home. 

I was home, and I felt like I belonged here.  I was content for the first time in my life in Pittsburgh. I’ve been back in the Burgh for 5 years, and it took those 45 minutes for me to realize that everything I missed so much about Tuscaloosa was here in Pittsburgh all along.