Friday, February 5, 2016
"Sweet overtones of cocoa...subtle aftertaste of raisins"
Mostly, what this train of thought brought up was how certain jobs help us find our muscle. We grow stronger (or stranger) pushing against deadlines, occasionally turning nothing into something, digging and probing and prodding to unearth one bit of color or humor or drama around which to build a story, one that is mostly true. We are strengthened by casting wildly about our stored language to find words that will elevate what is ordinary, regular, to something with a bit more shine.
We don't realize when we occupy them that these jobs are boot camp, from which we either wash out or get promoted. Or choose to enter another line of work. We don't know in 1975 that in 2016 we will look back and appreciate the impossible clients and interviews, passed along to us by a much more impossible boss as the last stop. This may have been the assignment that helped me believe everyone must possess sparkle, no matter how elusive.
It's all tap dancing. Some of it requires a typewriter.