Lately, I’ve been describing myself as someone who knows a little bit about a lot of things. I’m living a “here’s-all-you-need-to-know-about-X-to-get-by” kind of life. Fake it ’til you make it, ain’t working for me any more. Sometimes, it’s like I’m about to travel abroad and all I learned to say is “Where’s the toilet?” and “Your mother smells like goat testicles” in a variety of languages . You know, the bathroom location and bathroom talk, the essential traveler phrases.
I’m not really satisfied with that.
So, I’ve been thinking about all of those things that I know a little bit about and the things that I know how to do just enough of. I’m thinking, if you’ll indulge the language metaphor a bit more, I’m ready to be fluent in something.
French. Writing. Photography.
Three things I really enjoy. Three things about which I know a fair amount, though I have yet to learn the word “testicles” in French.
I know what I want to do. Now, to get to the business of doing it and doing it with purpose. Learning more about these things, dare I even say mastering them, this is going to be my focus.
A year from now, I could be living in Paris, working on my second book and taking photos of the girls as they run through the Jardins des Tuileries. And by the way, I would never tell someone that “ta mere sent testicules de chevre” unless they really had it coming.
I’m not really satisfied with that.
So, I’ve been thinking about all of those things that I know a little bit about and the things that I know how to do just enough of. I’m thinking, if you’ll indulge the language metaphor a bit more, I’m ready to be fluent in something.
French. Writing. Photography.
Three things I really enjoy. Three things about which I know a fair amount, though I have yet to learn the word “testicles” in French.
I know what I want to do. Now, to get to the business of doing it and doing it with purpose. Learning more about these things, dare I even say mastering them, this is going to be my focus.
A year from now, I could be living in Paris, working on my second book and taking photos of the girls as they run through the Jardins des Tuileries. And by the way, I would never tell someone that “ta mere sent testicules de chevre” unless they really had it coming.