It’s Maaaaaaagic!

I’ve had some stupid ideas in my life, including some which I’m very proud of.

But my ‘most stupidest’ of thoughts are the ones which cycle through my head daily…like laundry…but if laundry was something that was supposed to take pristine clothes and roll them around in dirt. [In case none of you noticed, I just wrote a poem]

…for example, my idea of “perfection” involving me magically becoming a person who does not need to be perfect:

Perfection_1

…or my obsession with happiness, living in the present, connection, and finding meaning being the biggest roadblocks to me actually achieving those things:

Happy_1

But maybe, after all these years, I’ve developed a soft spot for these ridiculous yet endearing things I do.

No. No, I haven’t.

I Haven’t Been Writing

Is rejection difficult? Duh.

And if you’re anything like me, after being rejected, you feel like your Rejectors are standing just behind you, looking over your shoulder as you write (or paint or juggle…), watching your every word and criticizing it.

Not just criticizing, though…laughing at you. Laughing at you with their successful friends and colleagues for thinking you should bother spending even another second trying to create something.

I was trying to stretch. Challenge myself. Put myself out there. Most unfortunately, I don’t regret it. Which means I’ll have to do it again. And again. Until I disintegrate into salt and dust because of all the rejection. And the laughing and pointing.

Ok, so I’m feeling mixed about it.

calvin-and-hobbes-write-what-you-know_orig

What I had to do, was bravely take a break. I had to acknowledge that I was hurting, acknowledge that I was shutting down so I didn’t have to feel it. Depending on who you are and how you work, sometimes it’s best to get right back on the horse.

But I know myself well enough to know I had to be gentle. So I took a break, and I grieved.

And…as of one week ago, I got the call again. The I can’t help it I miss my characters I miss writing I can’t help it I’m just the tiniest bit inspired call.

I reminded myself that those who’ve read my writing and didn’t like it, most likely forgot about both it and me just as soon as they put it down. For some, that would be the opposite of encouraging, but for me, it allows me once more to “write with the door closed.”

And finally, finally, those annoying people leaning over my shoulder go away. And I get to write in peace for a bit. Yesterday I wrote a scene with a bunch of boys playing cards. Nothing groundbreaking. But I still wrote it.

And it was fun.

You Can Do Art

Cultivate your love for art by investing in supplies. Specifically, paper and a pencil. Ok, so maybe a 3-D printer or a light-box would be your idea tool, but until you can afford that, go for the paper and pen(cil).

If you can’t afford paper, steal napkins from your local coffee shop. If you can’t afford pens, go to free evens and accept their complimentary pens with the company logo.

Basically, do art no matter what. And don’t let someone else tell you you’re not talented, don’t have time, or that only llamas can draw. More importantly, don’t let yourself tell you that.

Have fun!

Agatha

Two perfectly normal people having a perfectly normal conversation:

EXT. TRAIN STATION – DAY

Joe and Harry sit on a bench together, watching the trains go by. Joe eats a tuna sandwich and Harry holds a large mug full of coffee.

A train whistle sounds.

HARRY: Why does a train whistle when it’s coming into the station?

JOE: I suppose so people will know it’s there.

Harry sips his coffee.

HARRY: Kind of hard to miss.

JOE: I married Agatha on a train. We fell over a lot.

HARRY: It’s too bad that didn’t last.

JOE: But then I met Ruth.

HARRY: Things like that never do.

JOE: And we never rode the train.

HARRY: I always liked Agatha.

JOE: You mean Ruth.

HARRY: No, I mean Agatha. I love her. We’re getting married.

JOE: (looks at Harry) Where?

HARRY: In a church.

On Poop, Carrying it with You

I realized this yesterday, when I had to double back to the park to throw away a bag of poop for the dog I had just walked.

Unwritten rule:

  • You can carry poop with you in a bag. Totally fine. Totally cool. In fact, it’s a positive thing because it means you didn’t leave poop on someone’s lawn or for someone to step in.
    • Still…hard to believe that in a society which considers pooping to be a very private activity, that it’s accepted to pick it up and carry it with you.

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