I miss mouths. I miss lips that purse. Teeth that bite lips. Tongues that stick out. I miss smiles, grimaces, jaw drops, flapping lips. It’s dull without smirks and puckers.
A mouth is the opening of a container.
I still see eyes that sparkle, widen, stare, avert, brighten, darken, and blink.
Noses have gone away though occasionally unexpectedly pop into view.
Mouths have gone undercover. They are muffled. It is a good time to practice projection and articulation.
I am happy for the written word though my computer is getting pushy. It recently underlined a sentence and complained, “words expressing uncertainty lesson your impact.”
The other day a man walked by singing a cat’s name, “Sa-sha, Saaaa- shaaa, Sashaaaa.” I nearly ran toward him, because of his soft melodious call and I’m not a cat. It was a nice sound breaking through the day. I saw him days later and asked if he found the cat. “Yes, he came home, thanks for asking.” This was a simple short, happy-ending story.
Lately people pause and say to me, can I ask you a weird question?
“Hello, this is the department of weird questions how may I help you?”
Typically it goes like this:
What does it mean when
Do you know if
Why does this
How do you explain
Is this normal
Where are the
I wonder if
What is your impression of
Sometimes I feel
Have you heard of
People need a place to shine light, to question in an open environment.
If we don’t have enough points of reference to ask, it’s easy to stalk information on the computer like a cat chasing a laser beam. Chasing light but never catching it.
I took a break from social media last month. Once I wanted to post a picture of a blue jay. Instead I admired it and called a friend.
I read: The mouth is the opening of a continent. sometimes I become part of things and they change as I read them. I like this. last week a doctor put me through simple paces to check neurological basic function, the last instruction was to smile…I had a mask on. he said: I assume you smiled. well, my eyes were smiling. what funny times indeed. I like the blue jay. the more timid birds have found the new out of the way feeder and are quite happy. they leave their masks at home and chirrup and guffaw and tweet quite happily. maybe there is hope.
I’ve been noticing all the birds. They are feeding on my amaranth.
Mary Ann, you light up our lives! Your blogs always are thoughtful and this one in its riffing on loss created by masks is delightful. Are these strangers, emboldened by mask disguises, asking questions? If so, that is a plus.
Thank you, Susan. Many are masked people I barely know. I’m happy enough to be asked!