A Hurricane of Jacarandas
When I first watched Encanto, the character I most related to was Mirabel. She doesn’t have any particular gift, and her song is about wanting and waiting. It reminded me of being a child and desperately hoping something really exciting would happen, like I would find a treasure map in the backyard or discover I had a long-lost twin. I wanted my life to be like the protagonists of the books I read, who were always going about their ordinary lives until the most amazing thing happened and suddenly the world was in technicolor.
Perhaps I was like Mirabel as a child, but after my forth rewatch of the movie, I realized I was actually more like Isabella as an adult. Not that I think I’m perfect: I don’t have long flowing hair and my thumb is decidedly not green. As a writer, I’m prone to typos and misspelled words. I think my connection with Isabella goes deeper, into what we actually want out of life.
I want to make things and share them with the world.
But, I have a deep fear of being seen as “cringe.” I imagine people laughing to themselves and thinking, “Here’s Alli, putting things on the internet again, as if anyone actually wants to read them!” I spend more time ruminating about creating things than actually engaging myself in the process of making. I feel like it needs to be as perfect as Isabella’s roses to see the light of day.
When Isabella creates her cactus, she stares at it in wonder. “It’s not symmetrical or perfect,” she sings, “but it’s beautiful and it’s mine.” Like the cactus, this little newsletter isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. Perhaps it will lead to the most amazing things, or more likely it will lead to a steady and consistent writing practice. Right now, the thought of sitting down regularly and putting words on the screen sounds about as beautiful as jacarandas in bloom.