You Deserve a Treat
The movement of "sharing is caring"
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You deserve a treat. You made it to the end of the year. It was touch and go there for a while. You didn’t know how things would shake out. But here you are. Still cookin’.
So, what’s the treat? It’s my photocopied face. Tada! And the story that goes with it. But first, I want to say thanks for a wonderful 2024 with Vera Monstera. I will be taking a little winter break and will be back mid-January.
Preamble
Once upon a short time ago, my kid and I were having lunch with my friend Carrie, a charismatic storyteller. My kid was moth-to-flame with Carrie (as all humans are), so moth-to-flame, in fact, that she invented a game: throw Carrie topics so she can tell true stories on those topics. Go!
I was happy to sit back and listen because when I tell stories—if I remember them—they meander. And if there’s one person who doesn’t really care about my stories, it’s my kid. But I did hop in there and tell one. And my kiddo cracked up. I now actually get requests for this story which reveals me to be:
ridiculous
imperfect
funny
Okay, that last one is a stretch. I think I’m funny (with a bold, italicized “I”). But when I told this particular story, it was one of the first times my kid and I shared something magic in a buddy-buddy, inside joke kind of way. In a laugh your face off kind of way. It’s not even that it’s a great story. It might not be. But laughing at the story was a way for my kid to say “I get you.” It’s a version of “I love you,” but it goes further and is so meaningful coming from a smarty pants to her starry-eyed mama.
I Love You, Man
Once upon a long time ago, I needed a passport photo. I thought, why not get it done in an unmanned photo booth at the Susquehanna Mall? I may have been 21 and legally an adult, but I was the kind of person who needed a friendly chaperone to assist with common sense. Still am.
I don’t excel at machines. I can’t really follow directions. And on this particular day, I decided that I looked better when I’m not smiling. This was before I realized I have resting deer-in-headlights muppet face.
So, I gave the machine money, pushed a few buttons and watched a gigantic photocopy of my head emerge from the slot. I don’t know why it was a huge ditto and not an ID-sized photo. I don’t know how I didn’t see there were options for captions. And I definitely don’t know how I accidentally selected one. Also, why the quotation marks? Who are we quoting here…me?
I looked down at the paper in my hand in disbelief. There I was, clear as day—my giant head staring back with dead eyes. “I love you, man.”
I really have no idea how I got my actual passport photo taken. I must have done it, but that story is forgotten. What we do have forever is this absurd snapshot that sums up all my clueless missions.
Sharing is Caring
I want to extend a huge “I love you, man” to all of you beautiful people for reading and engaging. Thanks to Tim, my family, Maranda, Cat, Jon, Melissa and so many others for support. Thank you Jellyfish. Thanks to Scott and Tara. Thank you Shop Talk and The Goddesses.
This year, I relearned the kindergarten motto, “Sharing is Caring.” It’s so fundamental and so easy to forget. So much of what happens in the arts and in the writing community is about give and take. Thank you, SmallStack for modeling open-hearted kindness and friendly support on Substack.
My friend Dan at Fundraising for Breakfast is teaching me life strategies. I couldn’t fundraise my way out of a paper bag, but his fun and funny philosophizing is teaching me about the art of asking. Because why not? Asking for support of any kind is hard. Dan makes it look easy.
Jeff over at The Jeff Stream is the reason I found myself on Substack in the first place. Sometimes you need a friend to turn on the light when you don’t even know it’s dark. When I read Jeff’s wild, wonderful work, I feel good about the future of creativity.
Last but not least, I’m so grateful to my friend John Eckert for taking a leap of faith and becoming Vera Monstera’s first guest writer. His poignant deep dive into the lyrics of Elliott Smith plays with the art of the pratfall. Along the way, you might bump into Buster Keaton and Kierkegaard. Hosting John and his work was an exciting collaboration and I look forward to working with more guest writers and artists.
More Guts
2025 will bring more leaps of faith. Autocorrect says, “gutsy.” I don’t know why, but I like it. Gutsy is a word I would never use to describe myself, but maybe it’s time to start. More guts. More guests. And the premier of Vera Monstera Kids.
And if you’re interested in collaborating, let’s talk. I love the process of connecting and making things together. I am, at heart, a choreographer who needs co-conspirators to bounce ideas and make them happen. I am not working in a vacuum, and I need to remember that I’m part of a much greater whole. A happy cog in a machine—one that I can actually operate.
Or maybe it’s a machine that I can’t operate. And a gem like this slowly prints out, 1998-style, and drops into your lucky hands.
That image is timeless!
Thanks, Jenny, for the shout-out! I was just scrolling through some of our texts when we got these sites up and running. I still don't completely understand all of Substack but am glad we're in this together! Love what you're doing every week and looking forward to more in 2025!