4-52 – Carrie Fisher

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Protest poster from the Women’s March on Washington. 1/21/17. Unknown to credit at this time.

I have long admired Carrie Fisher from the moment she appeared as a repeated hologram with Luke’s connection to her becoming mine. The long white robe, the cinnamon bun hair, the lower register of her voice and the slight rasp. She was a Princess but she wasn’t like any of the princesses we’d encountered before. She was the daughter of a Senator; her identity seemingly connected and overshadowed by her father and the other men in her life until we really met her.

She was the leader of the Resistance. She didn’t let her hair get in her way, and she wore it how she liked it. Her clothes and style never defined her. And neither could we.

That was true for her real life counterpart.

For me, Carrie Fisher, like Jamie Lee Curtis, Melanie Griffith, and later on Rashida Jones, was a bridge from oldtime Hollywood to a new generation of strong women from strong women. My mother watched Debbie Reynolds and Vivian Leigh; We both watched Tippi Hedron, and I watched Peggy Lipton and then their daughters.

Just when you thought Carrie was a one hit wonder, diving head first into drugs and promiscuity, she would come out with something else; something funny, something remarkable, something for all of us.

When I discovered that she was a writer, I jumped for joy inside my head. As a wannabe writer, I loved finding other writers, especially those that had done something else before. It can be done at any age, and Carrie was the epitome of doing it at any age. It also showed  me that it was attainable. Yes, she had some connections and people wanted to hear her stories that were somewhat autobiographical, watching her do it made it attainable for me too.

That is so important to a budding anything; to have that one person who you can look to and say, hey, that’s kind of me, I can do this. I got this.

I looked forward to the new Star Wars so I could see what Leia was up to more than thirty years later, but I also looked forward to how Carrie was doing. She was unstereotypical, unabashed, and unfazed. One of the more recent things I read from her on Twitter was a response to a comment from some troll who thought she hadn’t aged well. She said:

“Please stop debating about whetherOR not I aged well.unfortunately it hurts all3 of my feelings.My BODY hasnt aged as well as I have.”

and

“Youth and beauty are not accomplishments, they’re the temporary happy biproducts of time and/or DNA. Don’t hold your breath for either.(sic)”

I needed those statements in a point in my life that they came and I was reminded of how much I loved and admired Carrie.

A few more of her gems:

Instant gratification takes too long.

Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

I was street smart, but unfortunately the street was Rodeo Drive.

There is no point at which you can say, “Well, I’m successful now. I might as well take a nap.”

I really love the Internet. They say chat-rooms are the trailer park of the internet. but I find it amazing.

I don’t think Christmas is necessarily about things. It’s about being good to one another, it’s about the Christian ethic, it’s about kindness.

I don’t want my life to imitate art, I want my life to be art.

I am a spy in the house of me. I report back from the front lines of the battle that is me. I am somewhat nonplused by the event that is my life.

I did the traditional thing with falling in love with words, reading books and underlining lines I liked and words I didn’t know. It was something I always did.

I don’t want to be thought of as a survivor because you have to continue getting involved in difficult situations to show off that particular gift, and I’m not interested in doing that anymore.

I’m fine, but I’m bipolar. I’m on seven medications, and I take medication three times a day. This constantly puts me in touch with the illness I have. I’m never quite allowed to be free of that for a day. It’s like being a diabetic.

Writing is a very calming thing for me.

Me, too, Carrie.

Thank you, and rest in peace. ❤

Tao of Carrie Fisher

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