The Salon of the Fine Line or The Fine Line Salon

The Salon of the Fine Line

or

The Fine Line Salon

Good News!  I have named the salon The Fine Line Salon, after contemplating the nature of the moniker, that would be the designated gathering place for “eminent writers.”  Remember, that was part of the definition of “salon,” and I figured nothing was better than “walking a fine line between two opposing sides or aspects.”  We still have to enter through the swinging doors, and sawdust is available upon request, for those who desire.

A “fine line” represents a gray area.  Here are three examples: candidates wanting to get votes from everyone, walk a fine line, and campaign promises are much more likely to depict those nebulous “shades of gray;” drinking with friends, and alcoholism; speaking your mind and being a bitch (bitch being non-gender specific); being careful and being neurotic.  That’s four, and that’s why I taught language arts and not math, he said lamely.

Do not confuse “fine line” with “thin line.”  To walk a “thin line” is to be in danger, or close to danger.  A parent tells a child she is walking a thin line, when the child may be pushing the wrong buttons, a little too methodically.  Kids who get embroiled in organizations which place unrealistic expectations on parents with staccato-like regularity, walk a thin line.  Innocent bloggers, who get embroiled in their colleagues’ sites, walk a thin line as far as how long partner and kids will tolerate said thin ice, not to mix my metaphors.

I had to first reject “Scrawled Offerings,” which I loved, until I put the word salon after it, and saw S.O.S.  I mean, sos can also stand for “slop on a shingle,” or “sounds of silence,” but I decided that was a good enough  reason to stick with The Fine Line.   I’m still relishing the part of the definition that includes “eminent.”  I mean, first I had to clarify for myself that we were talking important, and not about-to-happen, as in imminent.  That was my first thought.  The second and more lasting thought, is that we are “eminent.”

We scrawl (that would be me) or we sculpt, it’s kind of all the same thing.  Maybe one in seven, lucky seven, of my written pieces, is one that makes me say, “That was kind of sweet,” keeping in mind the gold mine of available synonyms for sweet that can be applied.  Otherwise, it’s like exercising: you do the same basic task, in the same manner, hopefully with some semblance of routine, and the effect is the one you desire.  It doesn’t make a shred of difference, ultimately, what anyone else thinks, though if you go it alone too frequently, you just may find yourself thinking solo.  But you are still eminent.

What makes us eminent, is our efforts to complete the process of transferring information from within our minds, with all its swirling, infinite existing tracts, to our computers.  In my description of myself, when first accessing my blog, I comment that my therapy last year, has freed me up to do just that.  It’s a miracle to me.  Words on paper, that used to be located in all of that built-up morass that was my anxiety-ridden self, with a happy-to-comply brain.

Whatever path got you to the point where you attempt to do this writing process, without pay, for whatever reason, also got you eminence.  For once, there’s no “fine line.”  Just the occasional well-turned phrase, or fine line.