In order to start making some of my thoughts and feelings visible to you today, here’s an image from yesterday’s post:
I’d like to make this visible, now: I had some thoughts and feelings, yesterday, about “The Invisible Man” — and the rest of those Classics Illustrated Comic Books — which I kept invisible.
That’s not unusual. I have lots of feelings and thoughts when I am writing anything — some of which I show and some of which I keep hidden.
Why do any of us keep certain thoughts and feelings hidden? Perhaps, because of:
- fear of others’ reactions,
- assuming we’re alone with these thoughts and feelings,
- an old habit of keeping secrets, and/or
- having so many thoughts and feelings, that we must pick and choose what we reveal.
Should I make visible some of my Invisibles from yesterday?
Sure. My sister might sell some or all of those comic books. I have mixed feelings about that. I have lots of memories, very visible to me, now, of reading them when I was a kid.
Actually, now that I think of it, those vivid memories might be enough. I may not need the actual comic books visible in my life, at this point.
That was a helpful thought.
If I were visible to you now, you might see that I am
- a little worried, and
about transforming other thoughts and feeling about the topic “Invisible” into a blog post, good enough for you and me.
Here’s another thought I’m having about “Invisible.” It’s a song by Clay Aiken.
Something I have kept invisible, until now, in this blog: Starting in the year 2003, I saw many Clay Aiken concerts, along with several people who were very visible in my life, at that time.
As I’m writing this, their faces are visible in my mind. I’m wondering if any of them are reading my blog, these days. If they are, maybe they’ll make their reactions visible to me, by making a comment! (That would be cool.)
Here’s a video of Clay singing “Invisible” on his JukeBox Tour in August 2005, with Spanish subtitles:
(YouTube video found here)
Whenever I decide to include a video here, YouTube usually gives me several choices. My decision process — which is visible to me and likely invisible to anybody else — includes these preferences:
- Live performance.
- Good enough audio.
- Good enough video.
- Something familiar to me.
- Something unfamiliar to me (like a different locale or language).
- People being given credit.
Now I’m wondering this: Am I giving enough visible structure to this post? If not, here’s a helpful question I ask myself when I am writing, every day.
Have I made my important reasons for writing this post visible enough — to my readers and to myself?
For this post, I’m not sure if I am totally in touch with what’s important about “Invisible.” When my intentions seem somewhat invisible to me, it helps to make a list, quickly, without thinking. What else do I want to communicate, here and now, about “Invisible”?
- Other people’s thoughts, feelings, and intentions are often invisible to us.
- When I create anything (including a blog post), parts of my process are inevitably invisible to others.
- It’s your choice what you make visible and invisible to others.
- When I was a child and dealing with a congenital heart condition and many hospitalizations, I sometimes felt invisible and — sometimes — too visible.
- These days, feeling invisible can be a good thing, especially when I’m walking around in public, singing or dancing.
- When I was recently talking to my managers at work about feeling invisible in a weekly meeting, one of them said, “Maybe you are more visible there, than you think.”
Before I end this visible/invisible post, I shall now make visible some images I captured yesterday:
There are two things I want to make visible about those photos, above. For me, visibility often includes answers AND questions.
- I am trying to make visible, here, the tree in our backyard which, after tomorrow, will be visible no more.
- What the heck is that very visible squirrel — in the first photo — holding in its very visible mouth?
Thanks to Clay Aiken; to all the people I’ve met along the meanderings of my path (invisible and visible); to trees, dogs, and other living things; and to you — of course! — for both the visible and the invisible you bring here, today.