Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Where I'm from

The 'Where I'm From' meme is ancient, I know, but I was going through my draft posts recently and found that I wrote this and never published it. I'm in New York at BlogHer right now, and my whole problem with memes is that they make me shy, so scheduling this to post when I'm not even paying attention is how we're going to roll here.

I am from cracked plaster walls, from Murphy's Oil Soap and austerity.

I am from the cedar shake siding, the milk delivery box converted for mail, the old crystal doorknobs reflecting white lights and historied depths.

I am from the overgrown lilac, the diseased apple tree dropping fragrant squirrel food into the lily bed.

I am from board games and not speaking of pain, from a Rivka and a Zisskind and a Goldie.
I am from teasing and puns.

I am from four blocks from the border, from two miles from the cataracts of the Niagara River, and five miles from Love Canal. 

From the purple people eater and invisible angels walking us home under the stars.

I am from candlelight on Fridays. From candlesticks bent with age and heroics and survival.

I'm from a college town in Georgia and the shtetls of Eastern Europe, from challah and mandelbroit.

From the fallen ceramic rooster , the yellow sponge on a white plastic kitchen table, and the mahjjong tiles clacking in the living room.

I am from overcrowded bookshelves, stories made canon and histories never spoken, white walls, dusty corners, drawers of photographs, too few labels, invisible tethers, permission to invent myself; from there, which is not here; and from then, which is entirely distinct from now.

Where are you from?
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