Deityblog

One Day Earlier

"What would you say you would want to change about your life, if anything was possible?" He asks me, his gaze level behind thick rimless glasses.
Instantly, I answer, "I would want to have my shit together."
"Interesting." He shifts in his chair, perhaps uncomfortable with my profanity. "Meaning?"
"To be able to have all the little balls in the air nailed down, and not be so overwhelmed by every little thing I have to do. It's keeping me from tackling the big things I want to do in my life." Are there really people out there who don't ever feel this way, who go through life completely unencumbered by crippling anxiety? Who are these people, and what kind of meds are they on?
"Have you tried making lists, Miranda?"
"Yes, but then when I don't get it all done I feel even worse about myself."
"Ah, perhaps you're making your lists too aspirational."
I blink. "Meaning?"
"Try having lower expectations of yourself."
The alarm buzzes.
"Aaaand our time is up, Miranda. Why don't you work on that and we'll see you next week?"

Pieces of a novel/short story/something or other I'm working on.

There is this girl. Looks very young, with huge slightly-slanted cat eyes. Small hands with thin white fingers clutching a portable music player, the headphones lodged in her ears. She wears a loose white tunic over a light white skirt, ethereal and inappropriate for a cold December morning. A small brown hat covers short dirty-blonde hair which peeks out in angry unwashed spurts.

Coming onto the bus, she moves erratically, lumbering with the gait of a small animal. She sits down in front of me, and I see her tunic has the words "Hadassah Ein Kerem Hospital" on it, along with a mysterious brown stain. She rocks back and forth in her seat, to the music or to some inner rhythm. Her eyes dart from one window to the other. She exudes self-satisfaction and excitement, showing flashes of a smile as if in appreciation of some hilarious private joke. Yet watching her, I am struck by a feeling of deep, unyielding despair, a dark, uncaring past full of loneliness and harsh words. I don't know why.

At the stop right before mine, she suddenly stands up and bounds off the bus to the nearest intersection. A second later, I realize she has left behind a small, black backpack, which now likes half-open on the floor at my feet. I grab the bag and look up, we're still at a red light. I call to the driver to open the door and I'm on the street.

"Hey!" I shout, running toward the intersection, "You forgot something!" I wave the bag in the air. "Hey!" She doesn't hear me. I draw closer, "You left this on the bus!" I'm 20 feet away when she abruptly turns around and stares at me. Then she steps right into oncoming traffic.

Talent is what they say you have after the novel is published and favorably reviewed.
Beforehand what you have is a tedious delusion, a hobby like knitting.

Work is what you have done after the play is produced and the audience claps.
Before that friends keep asking when you are planning to get out and get a job.

Genius is what they know you had after the third volume of remarkable poems.
Earlier they accuse you of withdrawing, ask why you don't have a baby, call you a bum.

The reason people want MFAs, take workshops with fancy names when all you can really learn is a few techniques, typing instructions and someone else's mannerisms

Is that every artist lacks a license to hang on the wall like your optician, your vet
Proving you may be a clumsy sadist whose fillings fall into the stew, but you're certified a dentist.

The real writer is one who really writes. Talent is an invention like phlogiston after the fact of fire.
Work is its own cure. You have to like it better than being loved.

Maria Bamford is pure awesomeness. I was home sick yesterday and watched all of her web videos (link on site), where she plays all of the characters in her family, her therapist, agent, childhood enemy, etc. etc. She is insanely talented and hilarious funny in the way she deals with serious issues including depression, anxiety, wanting to make a difference in the world but not knowing how, not having one's shit together, just a few things I might relate to a little bit. Check her out.