By Lisa Montagne
Hi! Welcome to “Talking Out of My Pie Hole,” where I do just that—spout about a multitude of things from dance to the exceptional benefits of setting one’s expectations very low. Why am I blogging? I am on a fool’s journey to uncover some truths, just like many essayists before me. My great writing heroes, the likes of Virginia Woolf, George Orwell, and Mark Twain, set the example. And, who am I to argue with them?
My old aunts say we are related to the French founding father of the modern essay, Michel de Montaigne, but aunts say a lot of things—like my green nail polish makes my nails lookunhealthy and that we should bring home that bit of leftover BBQ sauce from the restaurant because it would be wasteful not to and that, surely, we will eat it tomorrow with the mountain of other leftovers in the frig. However, I do know that I have a number of French relatives, including my great grandmother Lilly, who was born in Paris—perhaps that’s close enough. It’s a very romantic notion, anyway, thinking that I might be related to Michel de Montaigne, and I’m embracing it. Why the heck not? My aunts said so, and sometimes that’s good enough.
Mostly, as an act to stay sane in a harsh world, I am trying to build a bridge between what goes on between my ears and the outside world—using the craziest of all things, words, which is not easy. Have you ever noticed that communication is quite difficult? It seems to me that most things that I say to my loved ones and students alike miss their marks. Misunderstandings abound. Is it possible to communicate what one thinks and feels precisely enough to be truly understood? This is my life’s great experiment, which I am putting here on display. Making oneself understood is a constant challenge; and hence, probably a fool’s journey. It may prove to be worthwhile yet—and it just might just save my life.