My name is Tiny-bunny and I live in firewood
December 1, 2009
Mein Name ist Kaninchen und ich lebe im Holz.
This is the beginning kernel of the idea for my first viable creative writing activity in 20 years. I know some of you will be expecting the results of this inspiration here tonight. But what happened was actually happened was exactly what I was hoping for when I got my Monday night bowling team involved in brainstorming ideas—the concept took on a life of its own, and I couldn’t possibly do it justice when it’s almost 1:00am on a work night and I’ve had plenty of beer. All three of my teammates really came through for me, and we had four games’ worth (three hours) of plot genesis. If you check out tonight’s previous entry, you’ll see what their names are. Shout out, guys!
When I was an English major in college in my composition classes, brainstorming was presented as the opportunity to say whatever tangentially came to mind from some starting point. It didn’t matter however seemingly silly or unrelated it was. The idea was to not censor yourself and to not judge others’ ideas, because somewhere would be the kernel that someone could sink their teeth into.
These days at work, we call it brainstorming, but there is a lot of linear thinking and censoring that happens, and that frunstartes me (frustrates—you know who you are). Every utterance isn’t supposed to be a well-formed, logical idea. It’s just supposed to be a kernel that might turn into something useful because you didn’t think of it before and you didn’t think of it on your own.
As for Mein Name ist Kaninchen und ich lebe im Holz, that is a useful phrase that someone learned in another language, to indicate that she doesn’t actually know German. Seems to me that Ich spreche kein Deusche would be just as effective, but Mein Name ist Kaninchen und ich lebe im Holz is definitely more fun.
My useful phrase in another language was ¡Qué casualidad! or, What a coincidence! in Spanish. I had two years of Spanish in high school and this was a phrase that stuck. Sometimes, a foreign phrase just has a better feel and connotation for the situation than your regular, native language. The other word I like is from my two years of college German—barsängerin, which literally translates as bar singer, but as I learned it, is used more idiomatically as torch singer, along the lines of Edith Piaf, though she might be a little too schmaltzy for barsängerin. Anyway, it’s not one I get to use too often. At least I can work in ¡Qué casualidad! every now and then.
So, stay tuned for the adventures of Rocket Dog feat. Tiny-Bunny and his firewood in the coming weeks. I anticipated tonight, and took along a little notebook in which to jot down ideas–in that respect, it’s a well-crafted plan. Execution is always wildly different than intention, at least in my world.
I’ve artfully un-blurred key ideas from my notes to whet your appetite.
December 1, 2009 at 7:03 pm
I love the blurred effect on the pages, and the seemingly random statements in particular strike my fancy. I think I want to get the vermouth phrase tattooed somewhere. Okay, maybe that’s overdoing it, but it’s still a very cool phrase. And I will be looking forward to the adventures of Rocket Dog.