gorilla at the wheel

In Search of Laura

Je suis Laura, but people just seem to prefer Linda. Job applicants, sales people, colleagues, new acquaintances, old friends, anyone, everyone addresses me as Linda. At least once a week. Sometimes, they realize what they’ve done and murmur confused apologies. Usually, though, the conversation continues, none the wiser. Except Linda, of course. I know. But really, I’m cool with it.

But forget Linda for now. Who is this Laura character, really? Can her existence be described as meaningful or worthwhile? Like so many people, I can’t shake the certainty that when I die, no one will notice or care much about my absence. Driven by the urge to matter or at least not be normal or boring, I aim for “edgy” but realize I just come across as needy and a little weird.

I’ve been meaning to get serious and start writing most of my life. I’m out of excuses, so here i am. This is a place where pieces of me can find a home, outside my head. It doesn’t matter if anyone visits, I want these Laura-packets out of my head so they can blossom in the warmth of the sun, in a garden of lovingly curated words. As much as I enjoy using words to elicit a desired mental picture, sometimes an actual image is far more efficient. I dabble in both words and imagery to satisfy the need to create, to be uniquely me, to find purpose.

I dream possibilities. I long to see the world, to be fearlessly swept along in the current of far-away cultures. I am compelled to form connections with – and deep down, to be accepted, to drink in everything I can about how and why things are. I am the sum of every experience, each person I have known and all the mistakes I have made. If I live each day well, the sum of me will grow until my last breath.