Hi. My name is Janis. I’m a recovering amoeba.
My problem, like all of you here tonight, has been adaptation to my environment. I blend in so quickly that some of my more colorful friends call me chameleon.
Put me in danger, and I’ll disappear right before your eyes. Put me in the middle of disagreement, and my indistinct shape will absorb both sides. You’ve heard the saying, right? All of us amoebas have been compared to Jell-O nailed to the fencepost.
As you know too well, deciding on a form is no easy task for a recovering amoeba. I can’t be cast in concrete. I still defy borders. I prefer fluidity to sharp angles.
Part of my recovery involves drawing lines to determine my boundaries. Thus, some lines have been drawn . . . erased . . . re-sketched . . . lengthened . . . shortened . . . curved . . . straightened. I prefer working with invisible ink.
Let’s just say that I’m a work in progress. But at least I’m not shapeless anymore. There’s a “me” in there somewhere.
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