Mix Tapes & Scribbles

Exciting News: I'm Moving!

2011-01-11T19:54:00.000-08:00

Great news, readers! For a multitude of reasons, I've decided to move away from Blogger and back to my own hosting. You can find Mix Tapes & Scribbles, complete and hardly worse for wear, by clicking here. If you subscribe via RSS, click here to update your reader.

Also, keeping www.jaclynpaul.com in your favorites will ensure that you can forever disregard messages like this, because no matter where the blog lives, the address to get there is always the same. Isn't that nice?

Please update your favorite, RSS reader, homepage (loyal fans only!), and most importantly, drop by and let me know what you think!

Setting Creative Goals that Work

2011-01-06T21:30:00.000-08:00

A lot of creative people struggle with disorganization. Not everyone fits the stereotype, but many of us admire messy artists—an abstract and freeform lifestyle can imply inspiration, heightened creativity, and a liberated or enigmatic personality. More often than not, the reality of this romanticized stereotype of the scatterbrained artist is far from a carefree, bohemian existence. Just like everyone else, we need to set goals to be successful.

Try as I might to moderate the impulse, I'm addicted to goals. I always have something in mind, I'm always on a quest for self-improvement, and I'm always asking what more I could be doing.

I'm also always falling short. Life never goes as planned, and a combination of perfectionism, high ambitions, and ADD can lead to some big disappointments. It's as important to look at how we set goals as it is to consider what those goals might be.

As a compulsive planner, I tend to forget that ultimate, satisfying success isn't planned. It comes from staying ready to embrace opportunity, both by having an open mind and by knowing yourself well—knowing your values, your style, and who you want to see looking back at you in the mirror every morning.

Of course, we all need something to help us stay fulfilled while we're waiting for opportunity to drop by our living rooms (or wherever you like to wait for opportunity). That's where effective, healthy goal-setting comes in.

I'm currently working on a solid list of creative goals for 2011. However, poor goal-setting can lead to failure and—even worse—low self-esteem. Here are some things to keep in mind when making those oft-intimidating New Year's resolutions:

Think about your values and choose goals that inspire you. Sometimes, we're really good at something that doesn't have an important place in our value system. Or maybe we just think we should want to get a promotion, find a better-paying job, or write for 20 minutes every single day. When do you feel most rewarded for your work, most happy and fulfilled? For example, I love music, but making it is a collective experience for me. As such, I get little enjoyment from hacking away at a song on the piano alone for hours, but playing or singing with an intimate group of people makes me feel absolutely fantastic. So a good goal would be getting over my fear of singing for friends, not learning an intensely challenging piece on my own. As much as you can, set goals that align with your deeper values and make your efforts feel worthwhile. Life isn't all about numbers.
Don't fight yourself. Instead, get to know yourself. How and when do you work most effectively? When do you perform at your peak? It's tempting to set goals based on the negatives: things we want to change. Instead, think about your strengths and apply them to what you'd like to accomplish. It's a lot easier to push from good to excellent than from bad to mediocre.
Get excited. If you're not excited for what's in store, how are you going to stay motivated? Make sure you connect with your goals and know where you want to end up as a result of achieving your goal, whether it's fitting into your college clothes, saving money for an amazing trip out West, or applying for that artist-in-residency program you've been daydreaming about.
Set goals that you can control. I love to write things like "have a solo photo exhibition" or "write a stage play and see it performed" in my list of long term goals. However, the end result is ultimately in someone else's hands, so it's not a good goal. Healthy goals provide a challenge, but leave success up to you and you alone. Writing a stage play, then reaching out to five different theatre companies to see if anyone's interested is far more productive.
Break it down. If I want to submit to six literary journals this year, that means I need to set weekly and monthly writing and editing goals to support that. If I want to write a stage play, I need to set a goal to read scripts on a regular basis, experience plenty of live performances, research proper formatting, and find a competent and critical friend to read it when I'm done. Setting a big goal without stepping back and addressing the steps to get there will set you up for disappointment.

How about you? What strategies have you used to kick off 2011? How do you set and manage goals, and when do you check in with yourself to assess your progress?

So This is the New Year...

2011-01-03T09:21:00.000-08:00

If you haven't noticed, Mix Tapes & Scribbles has taken a holiday break. I had a mind to announce this, but decided I would just make sure I kept posting over the holidays instead. Instead, here's what I've experienced:

Watching the last Broadway performance of Rent before leaving for Christmas (not even in the same class as the movie version, folks).
Traveling to PA for a whirlwind four-day weekend of Christmas festivities.
Singing with my dad, cousin, and the church choir on Christmas Eve and experiencing four-part vocal harmony for the first time.
Finding out that yes, if pressed, I can still play the piccolo proficiently.
Getting good at the drums in Rock Band.
Spending two days trying to fly from Baltimore to Los Angeles, including some really exciting foul-weather landing attempts and an unexpected overnight stay in Houston.
Finishing my wool wrist warmers and beginning to knit an afghan.
Taking a lot of photographs and feeling inspired to write.
Seeing Black Swan at the Arclight Theater in Hollywood..

I'm sure there's more, but during this crazy adventure (which remains ongoing—I'm still in L.A.) I haven't had much blogging time in my days. Not to worry, I'm working on a new piece of writing about it all and once the dust settles, I'll have a lot of fodder for the blog. Until then (i.e. until the weekend), posting will be light.

However, I have another artist feature in the can and I'm going to leave you with a short list of resolutions for 2011. These will return with some friends in an upcoming post about goal setting/management, but for now, I'd like to do the following in 2011:

Write a script
Finish my novel
Be in a flashmob
Learn a dance
Submit to six literary publications
Write and feature more guest posts

What do you have in mind for the new year?

WordPress vs. Blogger: Thoughts Anyone?

2010-12-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

I'm currently spearheading an exciting project at the office: guiding our organization through a major website redesign. For a well-established, not-exactly-small non-profit with a limited budget, collating and meeting everyone's needs is harder than it looks!

I ended up deciding to use WordPress as a content management system and combine our website and blog into one pretty unit. Hopefully the new site will launch by late February.

It seems like this solution is going to work well for us, and it got me to thinking about Mix Tapes & Scribbles (I consider this sort of learning/experimenting a major perk of my job). I've been waiting for a Blogger iPhone app, but I think I've come to terms with the fact that it's never going to exist. WordPress not only has an app for convenient, manage-and-moderate-anywhere control, it would let me return to self-hosting as opposed to redirecting my domain to Blogger.

Disadvantages include having to maintain my own platform again (I did this before with Movable Type) and being tempted to get overambitious with customizations. Also, Google rules the data mining and indexing world, so having them host the blog does very well for search engine results.

In the end, switching to WordPress could give me a much more attractive, easier to manage home for Mix Tapes & Scribbles, but just like the Mac vs. Windows vs. Linux argument, there are no clear answers.

So I turn to you, Dear Readers, and ask: have you had any experience with Blogger, WordPress, or even switched between the two? Have you used the WordPress app on your iPhone/iPod/iPad? What do you have to share with me?

Life and Work: Finn Wild

2010-12-19T09:05:00.000-08:00

I know I'm a couple days late (sorry!), but it's time for our next artist interview! This time we're checking in with Finn Wild. Finn has spent a lot of time living on the road and/or off the grid, which I think gives her a unique artistic perspective. Like me, she paints, writes, and photographs, choosing a medium to match the inspiration. I'm quite pleased to introduce her to you!

Side note: as many of you know, I'm a professional proofreader and self-proclaimed grammar snob. I have an ongoing feud with my best friend at work because we disagree on serial commas. However, Finn has a particular grammatical-visual writing style that I think is very important, so I've made sure to carefully preserve it here. Enjoy!

How do you describe yourself as an artist?

i'm a writer & a visual artist. i do nature-inspired abstract paintings & drawings. i make zines, i wrote a novel, i take photos. i like being creative in general, in everything i do.

How do you react to the terms "visionary artist" or "folk artist," which are two of the most common descriptors for artists without formal training? Do you like them as identifiers?

i could see how they'd be useful sometimes, but in general i don't like them. as soon as you add more qualifiers you lessen the amount of people you're simply calling an artist. you narrow the definition. & i think anyone can be an artist.

What are your art-making rituals? What keeps you dedicated and in shape?

i'm an incredibly lazy artist. i find it really hard to motivate myself. i go through cycles—sometimes all i do is paint & draw, sometimes all i do is write. i tend to create a lot of work really quickly & then not make anything again for weeks. my lack of output really bothers me, & is one of the reasons i often don't feel like a "real" artist—like one needs all these mountains of things to prove it.

i try to just drop everything when inspiration/motivation hits, & treasure those times.

What are you working on now?

i started a series of paintings & drawings based on the magnified cell structure of different types of wood, & from there began making up my own cell patterns. i'm also very in love with maps & geological layers right now, & have done a few things based on those images. i take photos almost every day. lately they've been of joshua tree national park & the surrounding desert towns 'cause that's where i am. i'm writing mostly for myself right now, working through the events of the last few months, which were really intense for me.

Tell us about your background/education.

i'm self-taught, for the most part. i couldn't afford to go to college after high school, & even now i don't think going to art school would be my first choice. i sometimes feel like i would be a better artist if i had more understanding of technique & mediums, but usually i think i'd rather just make stuff than worry about learning how to do it "correctly" first. i find beauty in what just happens, what naturally comes out of people, their innate creativity & first inspirations.

Where do you get inspiration when things get tough?

for visual art: nature. i take slow walks & look at things closely. then all i want to do is draw. also, looking at other people's work that i like. with writing, it's all about reading a lot.

What does your creative space look like? Where is it? Do you share it?

i've been traveling & living in temporary situations for a while now, so i don't have a dedicated creative space. this definitely hinders my art because ideally i like to have a place where everything can be spread out & always ready.

How has the decision to live on the road affected your art work, in terms of both output and focus/subject matter?

i do less painting when i'm traveling, but i take more photos & have more to write about. i'm very inspired by plants & rocks & natural patterns, & traveling has introduced me to so many different regions with new & exciting vegetation & terrain. you can definitely look through my sketchbook & tell what region of the country i was in at the time.

whenever i'm traveling i feel incredibly inspired to make art, but feel like i don't have the time or space to do it. Then, when i'm still somewhere, i realize that that inspiration was keeping my creative life going, & even though i might have the time & space finally, i feel less motivated.

Despite the relative isolation inherent in your lifestyle, you still emphasize the importance of looking at others' work, reading a lot, etc. I've been told a lot that "you can't create art in a vacuum" and these outside influences are vital to successful art. How do you feel about this?

i'm not sure that you have to be exposed to a lot of art in order to make it, but i find it helpful. i'd also

be really curious to see what art i would make in a vacuum, though. sometimes i wish i knew what i would create without so much influence, & without thinking about the audience or finished product.

What was the darkest time for your work? How’d you get out of it?

the first couple years after high school i hardly made any visual art at all. my art teacher was very into having us copy photographs. she only encouraged us/allowed us to make very photorealistic art, which is when i found out i had some talent, & i made some decent things. after school I didn't really have the motivation or desire to sit for long periods of time simply copying an already existing image. i thought i wasn't a creative person & could only copy things, & even being good at that didn't seem very interesting or special to me.

one of my friends always carried around a little sketchbook with her, & i looked through it often. she makes really great abstract art. so then, just because i liked the idea of carrying a sketchbook around with me, i bought one & started doodling in it. it was the first time i liked images i was inventing. so i started making art again, & started loving more abstract stuff, & found my own style.

What are your current goals? Where do you see your work going in the future? Do you think you’ll try to support yourself with your craft at some point, and if so, how?

i want to focus more on painting. i want to try to keep myself motivated—i want to paint a lot, a lot, a lot. enough that i can try to start selling some work. i want to keep making zines. i'm not sure that i could ever support myself entirely with art, but i would like to get my work out there more & at least try selling things.

i also want to start weaving rugs again, which is something i did for years when i was younger, & hopefully sell them. & take more film pictures.

i thought this answer would be more focused—just paint!—but i'm not a very focused person. i want to keep making all kinds of art, & crafts, & write. i just want to do more of it, all the time.

How Do I Measure a Year?

2010-12-14T15:16:00.000-08:00

Just like I promised, I gave my manuscript away to another reader on December 1. The other day this reader said, "I always envy writers because they can invent such engaging scenes, images, and details. How do you come up with all that?"

If friends or lovers were to ask me, "what do you think of when you think of me? What details?" I would come up with rich little vignettes, full of sensory experiences, this time real and not imagined. I remember by scent, touch, the particular slope of the outside corners of eyes. I remember tiny gestures of love long forgotten by anyone but me.

What I remember less are pictures. For example, winter in Pennsylvania is less a memory of pale gold mowed fields against purple December skies. It's the thick quiet-sound of night with nothing but trees surrounding me. It's wood smoke carrying on cold air that crackles in my lungs.

But sometimes we want to show others what we see. Words paint most of my pictures, but photographs can tell a story not so much about what's there in front of eyes and lenses, but what our hearts and minds can see. I hope that any photograph I take of winter in Pennsylvania will say wood smoke, will say night pulling against your eardrums.

Sometimes I talk too much. Photographs provide a place for thoughts to linger, where we don't need to craft layers of explanation.

I never felt this about photography more than when I worked on this series of nighttime photos:

Even wandering my own house, absorbing brand-new warmth after days with no heat, I'm still enamored with my ability to see.

Naturally, completely unembellished, this is how I see.

I know it should look this way, but I'll always know the flattened and
semi-mysterious,hazy-shape-and-color truth.

These are the dust and shadows I study when I'm trying to find my next
sentence.

What do you remember? Are there sounds in that space? Words? Pictures? What do you remember about a defining moment in a relationship?

Disaster Station

2010-12-08T16:38:00.000-08:00

Some weeks are great for goal-setting, relaxing, or doing lots of things you intended to do.

Other weeks are none of the above.

Sometimes, your longest and most tiring days are bunched up at the beginning of the week, you don't go to bed at a reasonable hour, and you're positively bombarded with every crisis imaginable at work. Then, on top of that, the new World of Warcraft expansion is released the same week as your class ends, so you can't play with your friends because you have a ton of writing to do. Oh, and to top it all off, your furnace dies, saddling you with a huge unexpected cost and a heat-free house when it's windy and below freezing outside.

What, that's not how your week happened? Oh, I must be talking about mine!

The end of an era: after over 40 years in operation, my trusty
furnace closes its doors.

Though this hasn't been the greatest week for pondering creative goals, learning a new song on the piano, or getting out my paintbrushes again, it hasn't been without its victories. In fact, I'm exhibiting a hitherto-unforeseen ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel: things won't be crazy forever. They'll be crazy until Sunday night. And on Monday, I can start anew, sans class and sans this week.

After my major project success on Saturday, I was interested to see what would happen when I went to work on Monday morning. As luck would have it, no obvious miracles happened. Life was far more hectic than I expected, and I certainly didn't demolish my entire outstanding task list. However, I managed not to fall behind or panic about how I would get things done. My email inbox stayed under control, I communicated with everyone promptly, and I think I had a far better attitude than I may have expected under the circumstances. So yay for that!

In other news, winter always inspires knitting projects. This time, I decided to take a stab at making my own wrist warmer pattern, making me a bona fide knitted garment designer! I've never been good at lighting stuff to show cable stitching, but here's what I've got so far:

In a few days I should be able to show off the final product on my hand, complete with a little sleeve for my thumb (that part was tough to figure out!).

Entering the Matrix

2010-12-05T15:17:00.000-08:00

Nearly four months ago, I moved the furniture around on the second floor of my house to create a bright, orderly, sunny, inviting new office. I'm typing there now, sipping coffee and gazing at the winter morning sun reflecting pale and clean off of telephone wires and buildings.

This was a great move, except for one thing: when I created my office, I left behind another room. A room with too many furniture pieces, a room where we discarded everything we weren't sure what to do with. Every time I entered this room to clean it up, my thoughts seemed to disperse, fleeing in every direction as an overwhelmed feeling washed over me and I shut the door again. I literally pretended this room did not exist in my house for four months.

Yesterday morning I stood in the living room with a pill in my hand. I felt a little like Neo in the Matrix, on the precipice and able to choose between two worlds. I tried to remember what I'd told my rational self: if I had a chemical imbalance anywhere else in my body, I would have no moral objection to medicating it. I had completed a rough draft of a novel, and not finishing it would be devastating. I wasn't getting what I want out of life. Oh and hello, I had been living minus one room in my house for months.

So, with some trepidation over how I would feel, I took it—ritalin.

I make mention of ADD as it relates to work and creativity on this blog fairly often, but I don't get nitty gritty about what my life is like. Honestly, it's a little upsetting. But at some point recently, I realized that being strong-willed and high-functioning might not get me everywhere I want to go. I had long ago accepted that life was just going to be harder for me. I could have some of the same successes others had, maybe even more, but I would have to work far harder. And outside academia, where I had the benefit of not needing to try to succeed, I was losing some key battles. Most importantly, I was tired of existing at a baseline of anxiety and panic mixed with persistent lethargy—it is one of the most uncomfortable feelings I can imagine.

So what happened? Internally, I felt calm and quiet when I needed it, plus an exhausting sense of focus (I say exhausting because I never work on anything continuously for that long, and I was beyond tired by the time I was done). The curtain call finally came for that clamoring need to do 10 things at once, and somehow when I opened the door to that room I felt okay. I understood that some things needed to be thrown away, some taken downstairs to the tool chest, some put in the storage room, and others given away. After a couple hours of work I looked at the floor and was dismayed at how much I still had to do—until I realized I had sorted everything into bags according to where they needed to go in the house.

My husband came in to help me untangle a huge ball of yarn. I watched him work on it until he told me to start winding it into a new ball and realized that usually, watching him work on a task like that would have made me feel like I was about to climb up the walls. I would have gotten impatient, yelled at him for taking too long, tried to rush the process by grabbing at a piece of the yarn, and eventually frustrated him enough that he would walk out of the room, leaving me to work alone. This time we worked as a team. I stayed calm and grounded and in control.

By 2:00, I had earned the prize I'd been waiting for: a trip to Target to shop for an area rug for my new room. Not only that, I had found a significant amount of cash laying around as I was cleaning—enough to cover the cost of the rug, two 16x20 photo frames, and some new Christmas decorations!

Unfortunately, I don't have 'before' photos. I should have taken some, but if you've seen Clean House, you know what a room looks like when the furniture is thrown in every which way and a lot of random possessions are discarded in the space. I couldn't walk across the room without tripping or stepping on something. And by dinnertime, the room looked like this:

Sometimes people refuse to believe I have a problem. I think this is because my primary motivator is fear of failure. Things really get accomplished when my stress levels about them reach a breaking point. That's why I'm great on a team, I get the important stuff done at work, and I always got good grades.

However, I've always been hiding something: the incomplete personal projects, the closed-off room in my house, etc. And the worst thing about having ADD as an adult is this: no matter how successful you are where it really counts, you still don't feel like a successful person. You still feel like there's something wrong with you, or like you may never achieve your dreams or be as successful as those around you. It becomes almost impossible to relax because there are always things looming at the edge of your mind, even though you aren't doing a thing about them.

The act of actually finishing a project really gave me a boost in self-confidence. And while there's no magic bullet—medication doesn't make you feel like a regular person, your mind and body are both aware that something external is making you productive—there are tools we can fall back on. In this case, I used a tool that allowed my mind to understand a complex task and take it on. The decision to enter this experiment pitted me against my own stubbornness and willpower, which is why it took me years to get here. I'm sure I'll continue to have thoughts on it (which I will share, of course), but hopefully I'll have more to report than just making my space more inviting: things like completed manuscripts, more days at the piano, a nice little art corner in the basement.

If you've had any similar experiences, I'd love to hear them! I know the issue of medication and attention disorders is a contentious one, especially among adults, but I also know a lot of people close to me have had their own struggles and successes. Feel free to share your story as well!

Life and Work: Matt Agnello

2010-12-01T19:49:00.000-08:00

It's kind of hard to believe two weeks have gone by already, but here we are again! This dose of life and work comes from friend and fellow artist Matt Agnello.

I can still remember visiting Matt in Boston when we were in college—I spent some time on the floor of his apartment putting together a handmade book of photography, and we accompanied him out on a nighttime shoot for the opening sequence to a Boston University TV show.

Speaking of college, I ask about education in these interviews for a reason: we fine arts folks end up in some interesting places. This really caught my eye in today's interview:

I think more often than not your education is tangential to what you end up doing. For me, that’s certainly true. But the basic concepts I learned about in my film classes can be applied anywhere. You learn about dramatic systems, how people react to stimuli, meaning that’s created visually instead of through prose. All of those translate to any creative or dramatic medium. It’s like learning a programming language. Once you know one, you know them all. You just need to learn a new dialect the next time around.

As you know, I don't use my degree directly at my day job, but I sure do feel like it gave me the skills I need to survive. But that's for another day. Coming up soon: contentious life decisions, turning over new leaves, and rediscovering self-awareness. But for now, enjoy a peek into another creative life! (Click the link below the video to continue reading).

As an aside, you should really check out some of Matt's work on Vimeo. It's three years old, but I've always been partial to this delightful little short film:

The Cranemaker from Matt Agnello on Vimeo.

You’ve done a lot of different work, from short films to TV stuff to non-profit videos to now the game industry. At the end of the day, how do you describe yourself as an artist?

You make it sound like I’m unfocused! And you’re right. As an artist, I totally let my passions lead me by the nose, and they have a tendency to wander.

If I had to collect all the loose threads in one place and call it something, I’d say I’m interested in human experience—User Experience if we want to be trendy. Like how a particular color, or shape, or sound, or motion can evoke an emotional response. I get off to typography, kerning, letter shapes. It drives my wife nuts when I point out a building and say, what would it look like if we took away the landscaping? Would it still be classy, or would it suddenly turn into a slum?

When I’m editing video, I obsess over titles—how much drop shadow, how much movement, if any, what font, small-caps, all-caps, lowercase. Or transitions: how long should that dissolve be, does it need a sound effect, and how loud? How will someone’s internal model of the concepts I’m communicating change if I remove three frames from this shot?

So, I guess I have to I describe myself as obsessive.

What are you working on now?

I just came off a gig where I produced a video to spearhead SPARC’s Open Access Week campaign. Open Access is a movement to open up scholarship that’s currently locked behind subscriptions to as many researchers and normal people around the world as possible. I spent a lot of time on the opening credits and title cards for the individual speakers. SPARC liked it enough that they used it as the background for their slideshow presentation.

My next big project is a StarCraft II mod. Here’s the concept from the design doc draft:

You play a space prospector tasked with mining minerals from asteroids. Build networks of supply nodes to bring minerals back to your main ship. Avoid obstacles like alien infestation, gravitational rifts, and meteor showers. Use the influence you gain to barter deals with other miners and smugglers, and keep morale high. Features a dynamic map that changes as you interact with it.

I’m drawing from a lot of sources, including economics, Go, Civilization, and SimCity. It’s really fun to take all of these varied concepts and try to fit them into a cohesive whole. And unlike video, where you can dictate exactly what the user will experience, in a game you have to guide invisibly. The user can’t have perfect freedom, or the game wouldn’t be any fun. You have to create the illusion of freedom, guiding the player where she should go without explicitly forcing her in that direction. It’s a fantastically cool problem to solve.

Tell us about your background/education. Was getting an arts-related degree something you had to explain to your family, or have they been supportive all along? How does your formal education relate to the current direction you’re taking?

When I went to college, I hedged my bets. I went to Boston University’s College of Communication for film and television, but with full knowledge that if it turned out I didn’t like film, I could always skip over to another part of the school and be perfectly alright there. Turned out I loved film, and I can’t really remember what it felt like not to want to do creative work for the rest of my life.

My family was skeptical but ridiculously supportive. They admitted going into an entertainment-related field was risky, but they weren’t going to get in my way if it was something I really want to do. I’m incredibly lucky to have the best family in the world.

What are your creative rituals? What keeps you dedicated and in shape?

I don’t have many set rituals. I know friends who light a candle before they write, but I don’t do anything that specific. I do my best work in isolation, where the only thing I can do is work—planes, coffee shops, the woods. To keep in shape and focused, or whenever I’m just looking for a new idea, I go to one of those places.

Where do you get inspiration when things get tough?

I read a lot. Reading about things gets me excited about them, and it usually motivates me to do work in that area. Getting away from the computer, going for a walk, studying something mundane very intently—these usually get my mind working again on something, anything, to feel like I can do it. Discouragement is the hardest thing to battle. If I don’t create for a while, I feel like I can’t, so sometimes I just have to force myself.

What does your creative space look like? How do you feel about it? Do you share it?

It’s sort of a mess right now. Before I moved, I shared an office with my wife. It was in a dingy apartment with a lot of extra roommates (roaches). We moved recently, and I turned the extra bedroom into my own office. There’s a lot of sunlight, my own bathroom (that I share with the cat). I’ve also separated my computer from my desk, with the intention that I could easily leave it behind. But more often than not, that extra desk just gets piled high with papers I’m conveniently neglecting.

Tell us about your most precious memento or piece of gear.

I don’t want to say my iPad because I’ve only had it for a few days, but wow, is this thing awesome. It responds so readily to touch interaction, and it’s made me realize how much good feedback is an important part of any interactive system. You move your finger and there’s no lag—it just moves with you. You let go and it pleasingly drifts to a halt, like opening the perfect drawer. When I’m reading on it, I find myself moving the page up and down just a little bit all the time. I use it to sketch out ideas quickly where I used to use a piece of graph paper or a whiteboard. Touch is one of the most exciting ways you can interact with something, and I’m so pumped to think about things in that problem space.

If I’m not allowed to say my iPad, I have to say my Zebra Expandz pen, which you can see is a bit beat up. This thing’s great. I clip it onto a binder clip that’s holds some 3x5 cards I keep with me for notes. It’s small and compact, but it slides out to about 3/4 of the size of a normal pen with a really pleasing snap. It feels really sturdy, takes refills, and it’s survived a lot of crap from me.

What was the darkest time for your work? How’d you get out of it?

I lost my day job about a year ago, and I didn’t find another for four months. That was tough. I had lots of time to create, but I didn’t really feel like I could do it, so I didn’t. And not doing it made it worse. It took me all four of those months to put together a trailer for my wedding that I’d shot the weekend after I was laid off.

What eventually got me out of the rut were two things: 1) I got a job, finally, and it wasn’t total crap, and 2) realizing I was far more excited about games than video.

What are your current goals? Where do you see your work going in the future? You’ve been “using your degree” to some extent in L.A., but how do you ideally see yourself supporting yourself with your craft in the future?

I want to make a living designing games and interactive systems. Specifically, I want to explore places games haven’t normally gone, especially in the direction of education. Not your average Math Blaster, but something deeper, where playing the game actually teaches you something at a fundamental level about how the world works or worked, like Oregon Trail on steroids.

I can’t really say where my work will go in the future. Both industries I’m straddling are in major flux. It’s like standing between two motorboats that are starting and stopping and turning all over the place, and it’s not really clear if I’m going to end up on one, the other, or in the water.

Ideally, I see myself in a small company that I started or got involved in early, where we’re making cutting edge stuff that people are super excited for. I won’t be making bank, but I’ll be able to comfortably support my family and do stuff that’s really, really exciting every day. There’s a circuitous route to that path, and it might not be something I get involved in until much later in life, but that’s the direction I’m going.

Productive in All the Wrong Places

2010-11-25T05:46:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I resolved to wrap a few things up at work, then head home so I had some extra time to pack for our Thanksgiving travels. While I cleaned up my desk at the office I occasionally stopped to add to my list of things to pack: manuscript, next week's class readings, notebook, camera...

Surely I didn't want to forget anything.

Then I realized, I always pack these things, but I come home disappointed with how little I've gotten done. Holiday travelling is far from a golden opportunity for productivity. It's a time when we do lots of driving, visiting, and more visiting. So this Thanksgiving, I'm packing my manuscript, but I'm just going to concentrate on enjoying the time off as much as I can.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Friday Surprises

2010-11-19T10:44:00.000-08:00

What a busy Friday! I don't know about you, but my office provided no shortage of chaos this morning. Fortunately, everything settled down and when the mail came, I had a surprise! 16 exposures of monochrome film for Polaroid fun this weekend.

Hope you had some nice surprises today, too!

Rumors are true: whenever I use my phone to take pictures for the the
blog, I insist on stylizing them.

Life and Work: Elena Volkova

2010-11-17T15:25:00.000-08:00

As promised in entries past, I'm launching a new feature on the blog: one that expands my narrative to include other artists who aren't supporting themselves with their art, who have struggled, who need to make choices every day about how to juggle life with creative work. There are a lot of artists out there producing fascinating work, and I'd like to carve out a space for unique conversation about how we do it.

Our journey starts, appropriately, in Baltimore. I stumbled across a writeup for one of Elena Volkova's photography installations and loved the humor and subversion inherent in her concept. Here we learn a little bit more about her creative life.

How do you describe yourself as an artist?
My goal as an artist is to create an experience. Using photography, I create site-specific installations that bring viewers "in the moment" and invite them to ponder the surrounding overlooked details in the environment. I follow the post-minimalist tradition in my practice, where the work is stripped down only to the essential elements; nothing extra. I am interested in the idea of creating art out of "nothing"—uneventful, familiar, mundane, everyday situations on the periphery of our lives.

What are you working on now?

I have two practices: photography and drawing. Drawing is my passion and my studio practice. I use photography to create site-specific installations. I’m currently working on a series of large format drawings of fortunes (from fortune cookies). For several years, I have been making various drawings of paper, where I'm exploring the same idea of "nothingness.” I asked my friends to send me most their most precious fortunes—the ones they consider particularly insightful—and make graphite drawings of them using a grid.

Tell us about your background/education. What made you choose to get a BFA/MFA, and was it an investment you had any trouble explaining to your family at first?

I have a BFA from MICA, where I studied photography. I fell in love with photography when I took a Basic Photo class at a local community college. After a few years working as an art teacher, I started looking at low-residency MFA programs and found an amazing professor that I really wanted to study under. Four years later, I got my MFA in Studio Arts, also from MICA.

What are your art-making rituals? What keeps you dedicated and in shape?

I have a tendency to produce a body of work when I have a show lined up. This keeps me in focus, and working constantly. Luckily, there is always something happening, and I am busy working. At the same time, I really value this "down" time when I’m not actively producing work because it allows me to think, to read, and to figure out where I'm going next. I try to keep up with my drawing practice, but it’s not at all regimented.

Where do you get inspiration when things get tough?

A few years ago, I realized that it's tough to be a photographer who wants to produce large-scale work: it is very costly, galleries are reluctant to show it, there are problems with storage space, etc. I started making drawings because I needed a practice that would keep me working no matter what. I also think that drawing is a process-oriented medium, and photography (for me) is product-oriented. When things get tough, I come back to drawing.

Tell us about your creative space.

I have a studio in the basement of my house, which I share with a filmmaker. We’re both interested in many other art practices, like ceramics and printmaking, so we have sort of a heaven of computers, art supplies, photo gear, pigments, ceramic glazes, clay, etc. It’s very cozy. We really love being in the space and working there.

What's your most precious memento or piece of gear?

I used to work with this one medium format Yashica camera; it was so old that the lens had moisture trap and all images were coming out blurry with crazy light flares, and had dream-like quality. It was my favorite, but now I use only digital equipment.

What was the darkest time for your work? How’d you get out of it?

The darkest time for me is when I have too much going on. Every day, I have to juggle between parenting, my teaching jobs, housekeeping, and art making. I love all those things equally, but at times, things get overwhelming. The only way to get out of this is to wait until this period is over. I usually do a lot of work in the summer, and I always know that some sort of break is coming soon.

What are your current goals? Where do you see your work going in the future? You've done some traveling for your art and received a few awards and fellowships—do you see yourself eventually supporting yourself with your craft or do you want to keep teaching in Baltimore?

I don't see a possibility of being able to support myself and my family making art. The type of work I do rarely appeals to collectors, and I truly believe that art does not have to be a commodity. I found that many artists who depend solely on gallery representation have to compromise their practice to suit the art market; and I certainly don't want this to happen to me. Teaching is a great option for artists, not only because it is a noble profession, but also, because it offers some form of academic support and freedom. My ultimate goal is to teach college full time and continue to make art.

Elena currently has a show up at Hamiltonian Gallery in Washington, DC through December 4. If you're in the area, check it out!

Emulsion Lifts & Afternoon Doldrums

2010-11-15T13:01:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, after the productivity, caffeination, and general good cheer of the morning wear off, a girl needs something to cheer her up in the afternoon.

I'll be the first to admit I'm a frequent sufferer of the 2:30 slump.

Today, I had a conversation about cameras with a friend who always brightens my day. I recently received a vintage Polaroid camera that might need some repair, but a little shopping on the Impossible Project website motivated me to give it a whirl.

I'd love to try some fancy and fun techniques like emulsion lifts, but first I want to see if I can get that camera working and produce some gorgeous pictures like these (from the Impossible Project website):

Facebook Fast at Mid-Month

2010-11-14T06:49:00.000-08:00

Near the beginning of the month, I embarked on a Facebook Fast. I call it that because, similar to how you don't actually stop eating for a fast (just drink gross stuff like broth or wheatgrass), I haven't given up Facebook for the month. I can't. I get paid to do just the opposite.

But I don't get paid to use it at home, so I decided to find out how banishing it from my house would affect my life.

I don't spend hours on Facebook, but I do end up there whenever I get distracted or am not sure what to do next. For a person with ADD, this happens a lot. Without Facebook, two things have happened: first, when I don't know what to do next I'm forced to spend a few seconds considering how I want to spend my time. This has made me more intentional about what I do.

Secondly, when I want to share something, I can't just throw it up on my Facebook wall. I have to decide whether I want to share it on twitter, the blog, or in a personal email to a friend. I have replied to some long-overdue emails and, even more surprisingly, returned two phone calls (anyone who knows me knows I don't do telephone conversations). After all that, I wrote a letter.

Our society seems to be gravitating toward a default practice of universal sharing. I'll be the first to admit my Facebook page is important. I put a lot of effort into making sure it represents me in just the way I want. But at the end of the day, those personal emails to friends, those phone calls, those handwritten letters—those are the real substance of human connection. Facebook is like pop music: fun to indulge in and maybe even necessary, but not something to put at the foundation of our existence.

Sometimes, though, we need to remove extraneous factors to figure out what should be at the foundation of our existence.

A Video, and Something Unexpected

2010-11-10T13:42:00.000-08:00

I may have an office job (albeit in an office that looks and often feels like someone's house), but every once in a while I give thanks for my background and formal education in the arts. It's easy to assume we wouldn't mix well with the business world, but I have a bias for the BFA-holding members of our staff. In many ways, I think that degree unlocks as many secrets to career success as one in business.

Last night, my job gave something back.

My education taught me how to take critique, when to defend, and never to assume a piece is "done" just because I can see the whole thing in front of my eyes. Yesterday morning I thought I had a finished product. Instead, my colleagues got into an argument in my office at 10:30 and ended up telling me to reshoot the first portion, take it home, work it in, and re-render the video. All before the tech run-through for our biggest event of the year at 5:00.

No sweat, right? We managed to get it in a few takes, and I had time to fit it in and do some last-minute editing in time to help everyone else get ready at 3:00.

After going through hell for that video, seeing it projected at the front of the room might have made me cry if it weren't for the guy at the mixing board asking me if I thought the audio sounded good. Suddenly I felt nervous, nervous in the way I used to get before a performance when we had just a few minutes to warm up before the doors opened. We'd cut off in the middle of a phrase and it would be time to get backstage and hope I'd nail the tough parts.

At the end of the evening it felt the same: applause, house lights going up, and a sea of mingling conversation. A few people—always the important ones—finding me in the crowd to tell me it was great.

I don't know if I have the right words for how much I miss that feeling, or how glad I was to realize this was another way I could have it again. Suffice it to say it's the only thing I've ever loved going through weeks of hell for.

But enough sentimental stuff. I know you really just read to the end so you could see the video.

If you'd rather watch in HD just like the computer gods intended, click here.

Where My Hours Have Gone...

2010-11-08T18:20:00.000-08:00

This morning as I sat in a meeting I noticed something: my eye was twitching. Everyone's eyes get twitchy, but this kept up all day. In fact, today may be the twitchiest day my eyes have ever had.

Why? Well, I suspect it's because this is all I've been looking at lately. Fortunately, I just polished up what I think could be the final version of my video—a product of over 30 hours of work and 90 minutes of footage. I have to keep it under wraps until it shows at our big event for work tomorrow, but after that you can be sure it'll find its way onto the pages of this blog.

Wish me luck!

October in Review + November Goals

2010-11-04T17:02:00.000-07:00

October came and went in a more hasty and stressful way than I would have liked, inspiring me to set some different goals for November. During October, I hoped to:

Do some substantial writing/editing on at least 15 days and get my manuscript ready for my second round of beta readers by November 1. EPIC FAIL! I think I probably got down and worked for my goal time of 20+ minutes five days out of the month. Again, life got crazy promptly on the second day of the month, so I'm going to write this one off.
Finish a short story, which I did and submitted to the City Paper's annual short fiction contest. Yay me!
Read a script or see a play, both of which I did and loved. I saw Natural Selection at Single Carrot Theatre and read the screenplay for Cruel Intentions. Greatness all around.
Clean out the basement. One might say I didn't even try...
Get back to the piano, which I'm actually pretty sad about neglecting. Given my skill level, I feel like I feel like I need a piano companion who can help me out sometimes and keep me motivated.
Take some footage I can be proud of for a work-related video. I think this is off to a good start and hopefully headed for a good end. I put together a solid draft and feel like I took my boss' critique like a pro...which I am, so this lands squarely in the success column.

Much like the annual performance review I just had at work, reflecting on my goals reminds me that even though not everything was a success, and indeed there were some epic fails, I can still claim some reasonable accomplishments.

In November, I'm going to put my usual word and day counting on hold in favor of some more lifestyle-oriented outlook. I chose not to do NaNoWriMo this month, but I want to focus hard on feeding my creative energy and achieving a state of constant awareness/mindfulness when it comes to art-making. In that light, here are my plans:

The Facebook Fast. Sometimes I consider deleting my Facebook account, but then I remember two things: first, it's way convenient and I'm awful at keeping in touch. Second, I'm a social media professional. That said, I'm going to break the Facebook-at-home habit for a month and only use it at work. Ironic, right? Really, I'll just be maintaining our fan page and making sure to peek at my notifications.
Get my novel ready for real. If this isn't done on December 1, I promise the universe I will just print it and give it to my second round of readers.
Find that piano friend, sing, and play my piano.
Do something, no matter how small, that engages my creativity every single day.
Launch the new feature I've been planning for this blog!
Write about these things all month.

And there you have it: pretty simple. Happy November!

Life is a Strategy Game, Too

2010-11-03T05:48:00.000-07:00

Occasionally, I make reference to the fact that I play World of Warcraft. I generally use it as an example—something purely recreational, something I could cut out of my life in order to leave more time for art-making.

Not today though. Today I want to talk about my proclivity for gaming in the context of doing creative work. Don't worry, I'll keep it simple so you won't need to turn in your membership card to the Cool Kids Club at the end of this post.

For those not in the nerd universe, World of Warcraft is an online, multi-player game with more than 12 million subscribers as of this writing. Players create a character and enter into a virtual world where they can interact with various beings/creatures, complete a wide range of missions, join social groups with other players, and progress through a plot and leveling system sort of similar to Dungeons and Dragons.

The game has no end, really—to keep their loyal following addicted and paying their subscription fees, the game developers need to change the playing field from time to time.

Recently they introduced a new system for consuming your character's energy and converting it into abilities and attacks. Players now generate a secondary resource when their character performs certain actions, and consuming that secondary resource provides access to extra abilities.

I've been thinking a lot about this change to my game play, and I've concluded that it really jives with me. It encourages higher-level strategy and decision-making because you need to work out what ability is most appropriate for any given situation (lest you run out of resources before your task is complete), both in terms of short-term gains and long-term investment.

Sound familiar? We're all working with a very finite resource: time. Waking hours. Energy. We need to choose carefully what we do each day so we don't eat through all our time and conclude our evenings feeling exhausted but not having gotten what we needed out of life.

At the same time, we need to know what replenishes our stores in a more profound sense than just sleeping off a long day. We can't just pound away at our hardest, most productive work without a break. We'll burn out. I have to fight the urge to feel guilty every time I watch a movie or fire up a game on my computer. After all, shouldn't I be devoting every spare moment to my novel?

Despite my knee-jerk reaction, the answer is no. To spend creative energy, I have to generate it first. And sometimes unwinding and having a good time loosens my mind, lets me forget about the six stressful things happening at the office, and puts me in a frame of mind where I'm ready to sit down and work. It generates creative energy in the background so I have something to draw from later.

The more I play strategy games, the more I realize I never really stop playing. Life is all strategy, like the old adage says: don't work hard, work smart. We all start out with a unique set of resources, but it's how we invest them that makes all the difference in the world. And sometimes that investment means slipping replenishing activities into the rotation to make sure we have the creative energy to burn when it really matters.

Where Photos and Life Intersect

2010-10-31T19:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I like to be on the fringes of life's major events, volunteering to take photos so I don't have to figure out how to involve myself directly. An art degree can be an introvert's best friend.

Other times, documenting an experience with photos feels intrusive. I put my camera away and just watch, trusting my eyes and my heart to preserve the only record. Such was the case as I cared for my cat in the last few weeks of her life.

Sometimes we go through a harrowing time with our partners and the world feels completely closed off, our hearts fusing together and throwing up a shield that mutes the rest of the world for a little while. I never could have predicted how hard today would be. This morning, less than an hour before we left for the doctor to have our cat put to sleep, I turned to my husband and said, "I want a picture of her just like that, with the sun behind her."

And so it was: for the first time since the whole thing began, I wanted to take just one photograph. And in the end, I feel like it sums up exactly how I saw Katie at that moment. When it works, that's what photography does: it takes what your heart and mind are seeing and places it in front of someone else's eyes.

Imminent Ends and Beginnings

2010-10-26T07:38:00.000-07:00

Today I realized 2010 is almost over.

I'm not traumatized per se, especially because the end of the year brings Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, and then New Year's quickly followed by our annual Vermont ski vacation. Plus, by this point I'm over 2010 anyway. I'm more than ready to be a year older and start planning a new set of adventures.

However, I also have to face my list of creative goals for the year. So far I've crossed off seven of my 17 goals, which isn't terrible, but I also need to be realistic about my outlook for the next two months: I'll have a class to contend with for most of that time, I'll be away for a week and a half surrounding Christmas and New Year's, I have a five-minute video to produce for work before November 9, and my cat is terminally ill. I have plenty of distractions to keep me busy.

More and more, I've been assessing my goals against the backdrop of doing NaNoWriMo this year. Granted, winning again in 2011 is on my list of goals, but doing so would come at the cost of many others. I may not get to declutter the house, learn a song well on the piano, or fill three notebooks. Maybe most importantly, I may not finish the next draft of my current novel, and I'm absolutely committed to getting that done.

Hard as it may be, I might need to prioritize my other goals, plenty of which include writing. In fact, I may even resolve to do something creative every day in November, as a reminder that even though I'm not writing a novel, the month should still be dedicated to meeting my goals and getting things done.

More than the year being nearly over, the important realization here is how much of life is about choices and managing a finite number of resources. But that's another post—maybe even one involving video game metaphors. For now, I need to spend the last week of October regrouping and figuring out how to make the end of 2010 the best it can be!

Portraits in Clothing

2010-10-22T13:01:00.000-07:00

When I saw a post about an upcoming opening on the Bmore Art blog, my first thought was "huh, that's a sort of interesting abstract painting. I wonder if the artist just used the tube of paint right on the canvas."

Then I looked closer at the image. Then I read more of the post. Turns out, Derrick Melander creates his work from second-hand clothing. The resulting sculptural pieces weigh anywhere from 500 pounds to two tons.

I think Melander's work is fascinating not just because of the narrative inherent in secondhand clothing. Each piece has a mature, well-executed concept that can keep you thinking about it on and off for days. Like the piece pictured here, for example. Here's an excerpt from Melander's website:

In a former nun's quarters, I filled a doorway with second-hand clothing, walling off an interior space. Garments reclaimed from previous projects were randomly ordered, resulting in distinct value layers (which you can see if you squint a bit). More than any other work I have created, this piece reminds me of a geological cross-section.

I named this piece silence to address my mixed feelings about religion. On the one hand, I am regularly discriminated against by various religious leaders and individuals for being gay. On the other hand, I was raised a Christian. I've been the benefactor of Christian generosity (the space granted for this show for example). In the context of this heavily symbolic space, silence refers to self-oppression, to a spiritual vow of silence and also to the fact that these works absorb sound.

Melander has a show up at University of Maryland College Park's Stamp Gallery until December 11. I definitely think it will be worth the trip to check it out.

Changing Place

2010-10-20T09:09:00.000-07:00

Last week, I got a text message from a neighbor and friend asking if I'd like to keep her company on her porch. She was writing a research paper, so I grabbed my laptop and headed over to join her. Our neighborhood is full of brick rowhomes with fantastic covered porches, perfect for writing or enjoying wine and cheese. In fact, the porch is one of my favorite features in (or out) of the house.

Little did I know, this would kick off several similar gatherings, some on my porch, some on hers. For the first time in months, I was spending significant time editing my manuscript with what seemed like hardly any effort to sit down and get focused.

Sometimes, changing your venue can work wonders for your creative process. For months, I've focused on making my creative space somewhere I feel great about. Sometimes, getting out of that space and writing with a friend, at a coffee shop, or on the porch can yield just as much productivity and good work.

Word Count vs. Inspiration

2010-10-13T14:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes (well, many times) I set goals that are just a bit lofty. I nearly always fall short of them, and then I feel compelled to ask myself why: am I not working hard enough? Am I not dedicated enough? Do I not have what it takes? Or do I just need to tone down my perfectionism and high standards?

Hint: the answer is usually that last one, the one about unreasonable standards...

This month, though, one of my goals turned out to be way too easy. I wanted to make sure I read a script or saw a play, and guess what? I burned through Cruel Intentions on the drive to Pennsylvania last weekend and I'm eager for me!

The scales have bee tipping ever closer to a rebel year for NaNoWriMo. All signs point to a completed stage play on December 1. The only problem: winning.

"Winning" NaNoWriMo means writing 50,000 words, and that's a bit (well, a lot) long for a script. I've gotten suggestions to over-write it or include my planning documents, but I don't want to practice bad form just for word count and my process involves very little outlining.

More likely than not, I'm going to have to redefine "winning." I'm either going to have to trick the little blue bar into tipping 50,000 or I'm going to have to call it a success if I have a completed script at 11:59 on November 30. But really, NaNoWriMo is about the adventure, about writing with abandon, and about exiting the month with a completed draft you never thought you'd hold in your hands. And wouldn't that be true even if I didn't pad my stage play to three times its weight with overly directorial, flowery descriptions?

New Direction and Call for Artists!

2010-10-07T07:29:00.000-07:00

Last week, I started to wonder aloud about my direction with this blog. It has spent over a year in its baby stages, and I feel like it's ready to branch out into the world.

Since I launched it in July 2009, Mix Tapes & Scribbles has been about my creative journey, and what it means to live in the world as an artist. For me, this has meant exploring different mediums, finding my true calling, balancing distractions and self-doubt, and realizing my true calling could change on a semi-annual basis if it felt right.

Moving forward, the blog will still chronicle this personal journey. However, I'd like to open it up to feature other artists' journeys as well. Rather than talking about the "art scene" and what important shows are happening, these artists will be people like me: people who may have changed media, people who have struggled, people who love their work and have had to make tough decisions between art and job and family. Everyday artists who wander the world creating meaning every day.

Before launching this portion of the blog, though, I want to gather a critical mass of features and interviews so I can actually keep a reliable schedule.

Here's where you come in:

I'm seeking visual artists, actors, and writers (there is some flexibility there) who aren't exclusively supporting themselves with their art. In addition, I'm going to make sure I dedicate a percentage of my features to artists whose work centers on LGBT issues. Interviews would be done online, so geography isn't an issue. I'm looking to explore the interplay between life and art, what keeps us going, and how we do our work.

Sound like you or anyone you know? Please drop me an email at mixtapesandscribbles [at] gmail [dot] com or leave me a note in the comments.

(Edit 10/18/2010: a number of people seem to have gotten the impression I am looking exclusively for artists with an LGBT focus in their work, which is not the case. While I am putting that out there to make sure they are always represented in my features, I'm seeking writers, actors, and visual artists of all stripes.)

I'm really excited about this new (or expanded, really) direction for the blog. My real and true hope is to have enough interviews ready to go to launch it in November, but we'll see how it goes. I'll keep you posted!

And I'd be remiss if I didn't close out this entry by saying thank you to everyone who already reads Mix Tapes & Scribbles and supports me with comments, emails, chat messages, etc. There's no way I'd still be blogging without you!

October Creative Goals

2010-10-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

October has made its entrance, and it promises to be busy! After looking over my goals for September, here's October's lineup:

15 days of 20+ minutes of writing or editing.
(This one's staying the same, since I didn't get there last month)
Get a new draft of my novel ready to give to my second round of beta readers by November 1, when a new NaNoWriMo will be upon us.
Finish the short story draft I started in August.
Read a script or see a play.
Come up with some kind of idea for NaNoWriMo, and maybe even decide to do a rebel project (short story collection or script, as opposed to a novel).
Clear out the basement, which I didn't get to finish last month.
I volunteered to make a video piece for our big annual event at work. I'm hoping to get some great footage and put together something I can be proud of.
Get back to the piano, now that it's freshly tuned.

I realize I haven't written much lately, and that makes me sad. I think that means I have another goal: create more and share more!

Here's to a great October! Up soon: the return of visual art, tough decisions, and the long-neglected manuscript!

September Goal Review

2010-10-03T07:19:00.000-07:00

Happy October! It's a new month, and time to look back on my goals for September. Some went well and some...not so well. I got hit by illness, allergies, and a sick cat and husband to boot, but that's just life. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that there's rarely such a thing as extenuating circumstances. So here we go:

15 days of 20+ minutes of writing or editing.
Not too shabby: I did 50% more writing in September than August, and even though I fell just short of my goal at 12 days, I'm pleased.
Work on editing my novel manuscript on at least 10 separate days.
This is bad news. I worked on it for 5 days, folks.
Set a date for a creative retreat weekend in late fall/winter.
Done and done! I'll be writing at the beach in mid-November.
Finish the short story draft I started in August.
Another no-go. I sent it to a friend to read over for me, but then decided I needed to let it rest for a month. This goal gets bumped to October.
Get my hands on some script-writing resources, or team up with someone who knows a thing or two about stage/screenwriting. Set a goal for starting a draft (and make sure it doesn't conflict with NaNoWriMo).
So I didn't do this, I'm sad about not doing this, and there's really no reason for not doing this. Huh.
See Five Women Wearing the Same Dress at Mobtown Theater.
Mission: accomplished. I may write more about it later, but I was underwhelmed by the experience considering how excited I was to see the show. Incidentally, I also volunteered at—and stayed to watch—Natural Selection at Single Carrot Theatre and thought it was just great. I feel like it was a better script, but I also feel like Single Carrot is just great, so there it is.
Register for NaNoWriMo 2010.
Just jumping in and doing it.
Completely empty the portion of the basement I want to remodel, down to nothing but the bare floor and walls, and revise my budget/supply list for the project.
(This will help get me closer to both a decluttered house and a better office/writing space.)
I'm working on this, but it's a little more strenuous than I expected, so it's not quite done yet. Here's a picture though:
Get out of the house for some cafe writing!
Did it once, should try to do it more.

All in all, not to bad! Are you looking forward to October? Setting any new personal goals?

What's It All About?

2010-09-30T09:06:00.000-07:00

Within the past week, I've seen two plays. As a result, I found myself wanting to resurrect my onetime identity as an arts and entertainment writer, reviewing shows I see in my corner of the city. That led me to wonder whether such reviews would be a worthwhile addition to my blog, which brings up my most dreaded question: is the blog about what I want to say, or what readers want to read?

I shut down my previous blog, Words + Images, because it became a chore. It stopped enriching my life. A couple months later I returned to blogging with Mix Tapes & Scribbles, which has followed a much more freeform posting schedule, featured more personal topics, and chronicled my creative journey more than regular happenings in the art world at large.

I sacrificed hit counts, opportunities to represent the Baltimore art blogging community, and probably some other perks I haven't even considered. But I firmly believe that a blog takes years to establish, and this one has way more potential. Why? Because it's genuine.

However, I still haven't answered the question: how much of blogging comes from a marketing mindset? How much should writers be considering their target audience with every word they write? A recent post on Write to Done states:

Every post you write should satisfy a core desire for you and deliver a real benefit for your reader. If you are simply writing to satisfy yourself then purchase a moleskin notebook and write away. But if you want to blog publicly then you owe it to readers to deliver real value.

I think I first need to find more blogs on the creative process—how creative people live. Then I need to figure out where I fit in, even if it doesn't change my end product at all. This sentiment springs from the old adage: you can't create art in a vacuum. Any artist is responsible for knowing who else is producing similar work, and we should be able to compare and contrast them intelligently, as well as explain our own work succinctly.

On that note, do you know anyone else who blogs about the creative process? Whether you're the type who likes to email feedback to me or post it in the comments, please let me know if there's something I should be adding to my reading list!

There and Back Again.

2010-09-27T07:26:00.000-07:00

When I wrapped up my undergraduate degree (BFA with a concentration in painting), I had some seriously conflicted emotions about my art.

Firstly, transferring schools once and changing majors three times in my college career had resulted in a sprint to graduate on time: loading up on fine art studios and absolutely immersing myself in art-making. This sounds great in theory, but it was a recipe for burnout. That's even before you factor in the ironic fact that in the beginning, I'd rejected a BFA in music performance at Berklee in favor of a BA in psychology at Lehigh, and why? Well, I'd gotten the idea that performance degrees demanded you reject everything else you loved in life, including writing and visual arts, and I didn't feel I could make that sacrifice.

After an intense run as a linguistic thinker and learner in a painter's clothing, I graduated intent on identifying as a photographer. Despite countless hours in the painting studio working toward my concentration, my best artwork—and the stuff I felt most deeply in my heart—was my photography.

Yet, my adult life has thrown my into more than one identity crisis. Most recently, I've embraced writing again. Incidentally, writing and photography were my first art forms, and remain the ones I gravitate to the most.

Everything comes full circle eventually, though. Last week I went shopping with a friend and inexplicably found myself at Barnes & Noble buying a copy of Artforum, of all things. I made a birthday card last week from magazine cutouts (every art kid remembers those cutout projects, right?). I've been making plans for Instamatic photography, reloading cartridge film, returning to my darkroom. Strangest of all, as I take a mallet and crowbar to my basement and turn it into a blank canvas, I'm feeling a need to draw an art corner into my plans. I want to leave room to tack up a canvas, put in a drawing table, make a collage.

Huh?

I guess I just needed some time to cool off, write a novel, get a piano in my house, take a voice class. Now that I'm free to do anything, I'm going to do just that—in whatever medium feels right.

NaNoWriMo or No?

2010-09-21T09:51:00.000-07:00

I've been chugging away at my September goals, and I feel pretty good about where I'll end up at the end of the month. Well, except for one goal that's giving me a little trouble: National Novel Writing Month.

Last year, I registered for NaNoWriMo in September or so, deciding on a whim to give myself a run for my money with a lofty goal. This year I know I can do it. I have a fine manuscript to prove it. But I'm a little hung up on plot and process.

I don't have a Great Idea yet, and November promises to be busy with school and holidays and the like. Actually, I do have a Great Idea, but it's for a collaborative project and I don't see any likely collaborators on the horizon.

This all amounts to a lot of hesitation about doing NaNoWriMo this year. I'd love to make it an annual tradition, but I'm torn between ambition and needing to have everything planned out. Part of me wants to spend all that time editing my current manuscript. Part of me wants to have the second draft finished by November so I can give it to my second beta reader. I want to be reasonable, but I also know I tend to make a lot of excuses. I can rationalize my way into (or out of) any situation. This is just a matter of direction—and which is the right one to rationalize.

Recovery Mode

2010-09-19T08:29:00.000-07:00

I was sick most of this week, and rather than try to get anything done while I was home from work, I decided to leave two of my characters on the cusp of an important reunion and watch season one of Veronica Mars in bed.

Yesterday, though, I felt good enough to install cable television in my house, so there was no excuse for slacking off today! I got up, made some coffee, and finished up the alternate ending for my novel. Woohoo!

To add to the success of the morning, I have to share with you some important findings that will send me back to the darkroom in the near future (assuming my construction in the basement doesn't interfere with its light-tightness).

With good news all around, I discovered I can buy 126 cartridge film. I ordered two rolls, but it was steep! Look at that shipping charge, not to mention $9.95 per roll sticker price.

Good thing the internet possesses answers to all things, because this video has given me the confidence to learn how to reload those cartridges with regular 35mm film. Check it out:

So I ordered two cartridges, which I'm going to shoot and then try processing myself. After that, it's all about practicing reloading!

Creative Non-Fiction (Both Auditory & Weekly): Dashboard Confessional - As Lovers Go

2010-09-14T08:15:00.000-07:00

Even though I feel like I could have written more this week, I have kept pace with my writing goal for the month. If I keep going just like this, I'll have at least 15 writing days on my calendar by September 30. This extra effort hasn't just yielded me a check on my to-do list, it resulted in two music-inspired creative non-fiction pieces this week! Obviously I only chose one, but I thought I'd share news of my bounty.

This week's is a little long, so you'll find it under the cut.

“Earlier, in the car, As Lovers Go came on and now I’m like aaahhhh I want to listen to it again!”

“Do you have it?”

Though I’d had the option of expressing annoyance at my husband and sister for staying back at the house watching TV all day, I’d chosen gladness instead for the two half-days of antique shopping with my mother. We remained free to sit in silence, exchange news about our lives, gossip about others’, and look at every piece in every 10,000 square foot store. No extrovert filled the room with energy. No angsty preteen sighed, thinking of a boy waiting for her at the back fence by the oak tree, and asked “when can we leave?”

I lost count of how many drop-leaf tables I’d admired with eyes, then fingertips. How many inadequate fans had ruffled my hair as I examined depression glass, costume jewelry, a surprise shelf stuffed with toy cameras.

The song had come on as we were parking and swept me back to college, when people still quoted lyrics in their away messages.

“No, but maybe we could listen to music from that time—you know, our sophomore year.”

Doug, fiddling with the iPod between undignified and noisy battles with a sudden-onslaught sinus condition, couldn’t contain his frustration.

“I just need for you to tell me exactly what you want to listen to.”

I sighed and checked my blind spot, double-checked the signs, merged into the left lane.

“I didn’t realize how much you hated this. I thought it would be a fun game…”

309 splintered off and merged into I-78.

“You know, genius playlists really must be genius,” he whined in a voice that had lost hold of the situation somehow, “because when you say ‘play other songs like this one,’ I have no clue what that means.”

Having practiced the art of playlist-building since it had me glued to my dad’s stereo with fingers poised over Play and Record, I almost shot disbelief back at him.

“That’s a good idea,” I said instead, trying to pull the pieces together as he pressed his thumbs against the bridge of his nose and grimaced. “I already have a genius playlist saved for Again I Go Unnoticed.”

Unlike the husband who lived it with me, the genius playlist knew I also listened to Thursday, Brand New, Boxcar Racer, and The Early November in 2004. It knew that in between all the angst I also loved more upbeat anthems like Jimmy Eat World’s A Praise Chorus.

The road home from my mother’s new house—a move I never would have expected as a sophomore with paint and charcoal ground into my skin—takes me straight through my old college town. On the interstate I realize I’ve made this Sunday evening journey more times than I can count, starting that October night in 2004 when I visited Doug but we did not kiss.

When we pass the little sign pointing toward Kutztown, I wonder what I’m doing driving to a house I own in Baltimore, why I’m going by this overpass instead of pulling off the highway, parking, removing the duffle bag from the seat and carrying it up the stairway to my rundown apartment. Climbing into my lofted twin bed—the only bed that would fit in the room I shared—and reflecting on the miracle of the evening, that I didn’t fall asleep winding my way home.

The music is right, the day of the week, maybe even the time of day. But I’m not coming home to that apartment. I’m only listening to songs I haven’t quoted in years and driving past the exit in my new car, on my way back to a life that’s hardly new anymore.

Instamatic

2010-09-12T21:05:00.000-07:00

While visiting my mother this weekend we did some significant antique shopping, which was wonderful as an activity to do together and an opportunity to look at a lot of really cool stuff.

Imagine my excitement, then, when I came across a cabinet full of weird old cameras! Thinking this was just the type of cabinet where I might find the medium-format camera I've been waiting for, I examined every single one. I came across some vintage 8mm video cameras, bulky polaroids, and plenty of toy cameras. I didn't find a medium format, but I did find another treasure: a Kodak Instamatic X-35, the first camera I ever carried.

I'm so happy to own this camera again because I feel like it's an important piece of my past. My next project will be finding film for it—a challenge considering the days of buying Kodak 126 cartridge film at the K-Mart are long behind us. I've heard cartridges can be reloaded with unperforated 35mm film, though, so this may be a project to take to the darkroom. We'll see! For now, a picture of my find (the square format is a tribute to the pictures it takes).

Rituals

2010-09-09T17:39:00.000-07:00

This morning I found myself sitting in my office at 10:00, feeling not so great on account of an allergy attack, thinking where am I?

I like my job just fine, but I go back and forth on whether or not it's helping or hurting my personal endeavors. On one hand, balancing a full-time job with a house, relationship, classes, and recreation can provide the perfect excuse to slack off on writing. But my job also grounds me and keeps me productive, in addition to being a great place to learn, grow, and socialize. During the rare times when I've been unemployed, I've gone stir-crazy and halted any sort of productivity.

Life—personal and professional—is all about discovering and playing to your strengths. This morning, as I woke up a half hour later than I like to at 7:30, I felt cheated. See, I'm a morning person. People make disgusted faces when I say this, but it's true: I do my best creative work early in the morning, when the light is pure and the whole day lies ahead of me.

I also enjoy getting to the office by 8:00, securing at least an hour of uninterrupted work time before the rush begins. Then I get home by 4:30 and have all the way until midnight to enjoy my evening.

Lately, though, I'm realizing this is an either-or proposition. I can't get to work at 8:00, continue going to bed at midnight, write for a half hour or so before work, and get home by 4:30. I need to pick and choose. Most of all, I need to stop fighting my nature. The fact that I do my best work in the morning is not about to change, so I need to establish a morning writing ritual. I'm going to try it for the next week or so and see how it goes. Wish me luck!

Story Excerpt And...

2010-09-08T06:15:00.000-07:00

Hi! With all our Labor Day weekend traveling, I realized I haven't posted in close to a week. Not acceptable!

I guess I took a little un-(pre)scheduled break from Mix Tapes & Scribbles, but I'm back now, with a little story excerpt!

One of my writing goals for the month is to finish the first draft of the short story I'm currently working on. It's, well, short, but I think it's just about ready for me to send it along to the friend I promised a first read. A lot of the content isn't safe for the blog (NSFB?), but here's a little piece for you:

Rachel turned her eyes down to her destroyed boot-cut jeans, faded and thin and barely hanging onto her slender hips. Clothing always seemed to wrap her body so casually, the thin cotton just flowing off her bones. She fingered the hem of her peasant top and glanced down the street, scanning for the bus. She caught a man in a pickup truck staring at her while he waited for the light and quickly averted her eyes.

The breeze picked up and she could feel it, just barely cool, on every inch of her skin. Her hair wrapped around her shoulders, flitted across her eyes. The light changed and suddenly the wave of cars had vanished. She glanced down the street again. Nothing. Restless, she half-jogged across the intersection to the City Paper kiosk on the other side of the street. Her long fingers picked over the first few copies, finally resting on one that felt right—fresh off the press, no abused edges.

As she rolled the paper in half and slid it into her bag, the bus appeared several blocks down the street and she picked up the pace and lengthened her strides back to her stop. As the bus approached she plunged her arm deep into the bag at her hip, slipping her fingers past her cell phone, an eyeliner pencil, lip balm, tiny sketchbook, bag of vine charcoal. Just in time, her fingers connected with the wallet at the bottom and, without removing it, she slid her bus pass out and pressed it into the palm of her hand.

The bus was full, but she didn’t mind standing. She brushed her hair away from her eyes and searched for an open spot, grabbing the handrail just as the bus jolted through the intersection. The air felt stale and chilly—one of those mild almost-fall days when the driver still turned on the air conditioning. Rachel shifted her weight, letting one hip jut out, and gazed absently at her waistline. She relished the freedom of the bus, the ability to go anywhere she liked without taking her own two feet off the ground.

Podcasts and Urban Commutes

2010-09-02T17:13:00.000-07:00

I love my commute. Two years ago I decided to sell my car in favor of all the other urban forms of transportation: walking, biking, bus, cab, or a ride offered by a kind friend or coworker. I haven't regretted it for a second, except on the rare midwinter evenings when I'm standing outside in the dark, having left work late, and waiting in sub-20 degree weather for a bus that's 40 minutes overdue.

Carless life affords a writer far more opportunities for observing the world, and it frees up time to pay attention to leisure activities. Over these quiet summer months when the buses haven't been packed with high school students, I've enjoyed reading on my way to work. Now that transit is crowded again I've taken to listening to podcasts while waiting for and riding the bus.

A good podcast can be hard to find, but I've had great experiences with two so far. The first actually came from my job: we produced a series of oral histories from old-time Baltimore residents, which was perfect for my bus ride. It really set the tone as I squished myself onto the bus and watched the neighborhoods go by my window. If you want to share them with me and see what I promote at my day job, check out the Greater Homewood Voices Podcast at the iTunes store.

I'm also smitten of late with the Writer's Almanac Podcast with Garrison Keillor. Poetry isn't my style, but that doesn't change my feelings one bit. Go read Drugstore by Carl Dennis and then subscribe to the podcast. It's a daily treat.

Do you listen to any podcasts? I need to broaden my horizons, so please suggest anything you think I might like!

Morning Light

2010-09-01T05:31:00.000-07:00

I've been wondering how my new (home) office setup would look in the morning (it's my favorite time to work). Today I'm going in to work a little late to recover from a ridiculous headache I had last night, but at least I get to write a little bit and see my new space in the morning light!

Creative Non-Fiction (Both Auditory & Weekly): Metallica - Enter Sandman (Live With San Francisco Symphony Orchestra)

2010-08-31T14:59:00.000-07:00

My consciousness crested on a wave of power chords, soaring violins, and icy air whipping by and throwing my hair against my face until it itched. Every inch of my skin felt alive—present. The heat was on full blast in the truck. My feet felt like I’d put them too close to a campfire, but the warmth reached a perfect blend with the night air right around my shoulders. Weeds, illuminated by silvery moonlight, blurred by my window as I smiled up at the constellations.

Brian turned down the music and looked over at me with a sly grin.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I—don’t know?”

His left hand drifted to a dial on the far side of the dash, turned it, and suddenly the headlights disappeared. For a moment, nothing else existed. The entirety of our future—school in the morning, college, marriage, our next fight—vaporized, leaving only that moment so full and heavy with moonlight, the growl of the old diesel engine, and the dim black-and-white view of Wormansville Road stretching out in front of us as far as we could see. The burned-out shell of an abandoned farmhouse looked on at us from the side of the road. We couldn’t see lights in any direction—the big square headlights on the F-250 had been the only ones for miles.

Panic rose in my chest. I felt like I had just accelerated toward disaster.

“Amazing, huh?”

“No!” I gripped the upholstery, rooting the heels of my hands on the bench seat. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Aw, come on.” I couldn’t see his eyes. Part of me wished I had it in me to be more rebellious, more carefree, more of a risk-taker.

Before the turn onto Municipal he switched the headlights back on. Through my relief I could feel we were getting closer to home—a little farther away from being alone without a past or a future, just the two of us hurtling through the dark.

New Office!

2010-08-29T17:41:00.000-07:00

People who know me well likely know how much I love the back room on the second floor of our house. The walls are a pleasing color, the south-facing windows let in an abundance of natural light, and I have managed to keep it more clutter-free than any other room in the house. I decorated it with an area rug and futon I love. I wrote the first draft of my manuscript at the tiny brown desk against the outside wall. It's a fantastic room. I even wrote about it during my 28 inspirations in February.

Well, today I destroyed it. I had originally planned to make this room my office once we remodeled the basement, but suddenly realized I could move it along more quickly by just switching the furniture in our upstairs rooms. After all, our ugly office in the middle room couldn't get much worse, right?

When we actually started moving furniture, though, it didn't seem like such a great idea anymore. I was about to ruin my sanctuary and change my favorite spot in the house forever. Also, look how much dust was under my Doug's desk. Gross!

However, I'm typing this sitting not in a windowless room with walls painted a blue-green I can't stand, but in the back room, looking out the window (yes, I do type and look out the window at the same time) and listening to nighttime bugs outside. My desk is amazingly clean. I feel like I'm sitting in an open space where I can do a lot of writing, not in a dark and stuffy clutter-cave that feels like a chore to be in.

I haven't forgotten that we worked really hard today and still didn't finish the job. The green room is such a disaster I had to close the door and pretend it doesn't exist. A few random items are still littering the floor in our new office. But I don't have classwork for a few weeks and Doug promised to keep working with me until we get it done. For now, small victories: look at this nice space! I'm really close to accomplishing one of my big goals for the year: creating a dedicated space for writing where I can be productive.

September Writing Goals

2010-08-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

It's almost September! You might remember I recently decided to reevaluate my goals for the year and start setting small monthly goals that will (hopefully) keep me on track with what I want to accomplish in 2010.

September has its pros and cons in terms of making progress on my projects. On the plus side, I don't have class until September 27! This three-week break should help me get back in the groove with my writing, but I need to make sure I'm being mindful of all that freed-up time and using it wisely. However, we'll be traveling for two of my four school-less weekends. I need to make sure my goals are realistic given all the visiting we're in for.

That said, here's what I'm hoping for:

15 days of 20+ minutes of writing or editing.
(As far as I can tell, I've done this for 8 days so far in August.)
Work on editing my novel manuscript on at least 10 separate days.
Set a date for a creative retreat weekend in late fall/winter.
Finish the short story draft I started in August.
Get my hands on some script-writing resources, or team up with someone who knows a thing or two about stage/screenwriting. Set a goal for starting a draft (and make sure it doesn't conflict with NaNoWriMo).
See Five Women Wearing the Same Dress at Mobtown Theater.
Register for NaNoWriMo 2010.
Completely empty the portion of the basement I want to remodel, down to nothing but the bare floor and walls, and revise my budget/supply list for the project.
(This will help get me closer to both a decluttered house and a better office/writing space.)
Get out of the house for some cafe writing!

I'm honestly not sure if this sounds like too much or not enough to do in one month, mainly because I have a bad habit of setting (and not reaching) long-term goals and ignoring the need for short-term ones. I'll just have to see how I do this month and revise accordingly for October.

Separating Me

2010-08-26T19:05:00.000-07:00

"He was expert in knowing the thoughts and actions of living beings"

– Vimalakirtinirdesha Sutra 2

"Jesus knew all people and needed no one to testify about anyone; for he himself knew what was in everyone."

– John 2:24-25

From Jesus and Buddha: the Parallel Sayings

I don't hang with organized religion too much, but I do believe that if we quit with our own fears, agendas, and wants, our greatest spiritual thinkers have a lot to teach us about life strategy.

Lately I've felt out of touch with myself. For a long time I thought it was because I wasn't writing on a regular enough schedule, but that's not quite it.

Talking to a friend today, I might have found a piece of the problem: I'm constantly reacting to the world. Rarely do I step back from a situation and just watch and listen. I'm always feeling something.

This isn't just about feeling like my life is a loosely controlled whirlwind of emotion. Writers are always writing, every second of every day. That means we're also always observing. And if I'm mostly reacting, mostly just seeing my own feelings and actions, then what does that say about the characters I write?

Creative Non-Fiction (Both Auditory & Weekly): Sweeney Todd - Not While I'm Around

2010-08-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

And for this week, we take a little foray into the musical theatre. For context, I was imagining the song as performed by Helena Bonham Carter and Edward Sanders in the Tim Burton movie.

It's a little long(ish), so I'm sticking it behind the cut.

I moved easily through the air of an afternoon characterized by gentle humming and an accommodation of my wish to listen to Sweeney Todd while cooking dinner. I felt alone yet present, caught in a lull after everyone fled the kitchen, left me too set the table with Currier & Ives and hand-me-down wine glasses as lasagna bubbled in the oven.

When I finished humming, laying flatware on folded napkins to the tune of “nothing’s going to harm you, not while I’m around…” I drifted back to everyone else, back to cell phone and iPod charger cables being wrapped around hands, secured for the journey home. It was by luck of wanting company that I saw the flatiron on the vanity in the front bedroom. It blended in, waiting to be forgotten as we turned our attentive eyes to toothbrushes and pomade and stray boxer shorts.

I joined in, smiled as I passed, said “oh, I almost forgot, wouldn’t that have been—“

Feeling so betrayed by circumstance that I shrieked and threw the flatiron down on the wood, I was too late all the same: it had already seared a smooth shining line into the flesh of my thumb. Pain never hurts me, not like that, but deep inside I felt tears gather around my heart as we acknowledged the cord had been mistaken for that of an innocent table lamp.

Holding my hand under the tap in the kitchen that just couldn’t seem to run cold, alone again, I remembered a time when I was young, home alone. Working intently with scissors on a craft project when my mother was out, the blade slipped deep and irrevocable into my left index finger. As blood raced from the cut I ran to the familiar pantry shelf, knowing what to do even though I’d never put on my own Band-Aid before.

A bottomless loneliness rolled in from some corner of that quiet empty house. I remembered what my mother had told me about exposing one side of the adhesive, sticking it down carefully, then pulling the other side around to make it snug. Tears streamed down my face as blood soaked through to the surface of my self-applied Band-Aid.

The water continued running warm, room temperature at best, and when I heard someone walk into the room I gave up, dried my hands, blinked my eyes, and returned my gaze to dinner.

Being Found Out

2010-08-24T08:37:00.000-07:00

I feel like I've talked a lot about this writing book I've been reading: Writing Alone, Writing Together: A Guide for Writers and Writing Groups. No matter, I feel like saying something more.

The author is unafraid to acknowledge—regularly, even—that creative people are insecure. I appreciate that. We are insecure. We deal with rejection all the time (if we're doing our jobs), we have on-again, off-again relationships with the work that sustains us. We bare our hearts to the world and hope they stand up to critique. That's why a passage like this really speaks to me:

Even as much as we want to be part of a writing group, many of us suffer anxiety about joining one. We're afraid of making the commitment, afraid that maybe we're not good enough. We don't want to look foolish or be found out (that we can't write, that we're fakes, that our writing is mediocre or worse).

Reading it in plain text makes it seem okay. Well, if other artists feel this way, even established, successful, and/or respected artists, then it must be acceptable for me to struggle once in a while, too.

How Much Do I Love Being Alone?

2010-08-23T11:11:00.000-07:00

One of my goals for this year is to go on a creative retreat. I already have an ideal location all picked out. My family shares a little house on the Jersey Shore with (gasp) no cable TV, no internet access, no extras. Just a little bungalow with a three-block walk to the beach and a two-block walk to the bay. If you're really ambitious, you can plan a five-mile morning hike up to the northern point of the island to see some beach-y wilderness, shipwrecks, and plenty of shells and driftwood.

This sounds perfect for a weekend of solitude, the days quietly passed writing and taking photographs, right?

The only problem is, as antisocial as I can be sometimes, I don't really like being alone. I like being left alone, meaning my husband works on making a video game mod while I gnaw away at my manuscript (figuratively, of course).

But while I'm happy to engage in separate activities most of the time and meet in the middle for a movie or some two-player Little Big Planet, when my husband leaves for a significant period of time I tend to get the hell out of there. Guaranteed, when he starts up his four-hour night class this Fall, I'll be calling my best friend in the next neighborhood over to schedule weekly World of Warcraft and television dates.

So I'm torn. Half of me is in love with the zen-like quiet of the shore house in the Fall/Winter, the smell and feel of the beach, the removal from everyday life. But the other half is raising a cautionary finger and reminding me I'm most productive when I'm quietly engaged in parallel with someone else. That, and I ask my friends to babysit me when I'm faced with a long stretch of time in an empty house.

What's a girl to do? For now I'm going to pencil it in and think a little bit more about what I need and how I can give myself an amazing, productive, and (maybe semi-) detached weekend.

Side note: because I was traveling for a long weekend, the weekly creative non-fiction will be a little belated. Never fear, though, it will make its appearance tomorrow!

2010 Goals Update

2010-08-18T06:07:00.000-07:00

Good morning, how are you?

I've been reflecting on my goals for 2010, and while some still seem admirable and totally attainable, I have learned a bit from setting full-year goals. For starters, they're tough to accomplish. I set a goal to finish editing my NaNoWriMo 2009 novel manuscript by the end of the year, but then the summer got unreasonably busy, I started grad school, etc., and work slowed down. Now I'm left to wonder if accomplishing that by year's end would really be a good thing, or if it would just mean I had rewarded myself with a rushed, shoddy manuscript.

That brings me to another point. Life happens. It's impossible to know at the outset what any given year will hold, and it's important to reevaluate goals and make midcourse corrections that make sense.

So how am I doing?
Finish editing my NaNoWriMo 2009 manuscript and send it out into the world.
Not sure how I feel about this. Like I said, it might get revised.
De-clutter my house. The whole thing. Seriously.
This is still an absolute must-do priority. the Salvation Army truck is coming on September 8, and I've been working a little bit every week to purge out the stuff I don't need.
Begin writing a stage or screen play, preferably as a collaborative project.
Still admirable, attainable, and a big, big want.
Win NaNoWriMo again.
Once we get to October, I'll have to decide if I think this is a good idea. Although, I'd like to try a collection of short stories.
~~Begin pursuing a graduate degree.~~
Compose an original song.
Learn to play a song fluently on the piano, including singing.
~~Audition for something.~~
~~See a~~ ~~Single Carrot Theatre~~ ~~performance.~~
~~See a Broadway musical.~~
~~Write a poem and share it, even if it isn't very good.~~
Write a short story.
Working on it now!
Fill three notebooks.
Starting in May, get out of the house to write at least once per month (and document it).
This might be its own post. Let's leave it at that.
Create a writing space in the house (with desk and comfortable chair) where I feel productive.
Chair: done. Otherwise, see #2.
~~Starting in May, write for at least 15 minutes~~ ~~every day~~ ~~(or at least 90% of the time...).~~ Set (and meet) realistic writing goals every month.
I'm going to try this for September.
Take a creative retreat weekend (and document it).
This is likely its own post, too. We'll talk later.
How about you? Any big goals for the year? What have you been surprised to accomplish, and what has fallen by the wayside?

Creative Non-Fiction (Both Auditory & Weekly): The Mountain Goats - Sax Rohmer #1

2010-08-16T20:36:00.000-07:00

This one is a little more rough-draft-y than some others (especially my piece about the Atlantic City boardwalk). It more closely resembles the raw writing in my notebook in style/sentence structure, which is sometimes useful to share. In any case, enjoy!

Few people understand why I love getting to the office early, at least an hour before nearly anyone else. Maybe precious few love waking up early, stepping off the bus while the sunlight still has its morning colors, sitting surrounded by empty desks, but that just leaves it pristine for the rest of us.

In the middle of all this emptiness, though, still missing the morning coffee I’ve temporarily abandoned to kick a caffeine habit, the space starts to absorb my productivity. Minutes pass as if falling through a sieve. If I don’t fill the air with something substantial it will create a vacuum that carries me all the way until 9:00.

Luckily, no one is there to form opinions on my music selection.

John Darnielle’s voice, anything but universally likable, sends an electric charge through my chest straight down to my bellybutton. I find myself mouthing the lyrics, drumming on my desk, dying to feel his words vibrating in my throat but settling for triggering a chain reaction in my synapses. Somehow his words just cover me in the English language, make me delight in my native tongue, just the same as staring out the bathroom window early in the morning in my old college apartment made me amazed at my own ability to perceive color. Rusting tin roofs, red painted wood on the side of a garage, green Victorian house next door, everything peeling and faded under the big open sky.

When I close my eyes, tilt my head back, open my mouth just a little during the chorus I realize how much I should listen for the door, for footsteps out in the lobby that might signal prying eyes. Because soon, very soon, this will end. The door will slam one, two, three times, and the workday will begin in earnest, human energy flowing all around me.

Out of My Element

2010-08-14T14:47:00.000-07:00

I've been avoiding drafting out a short film idea, presumably because I've never written a script before and I'm not sure how to start. The feel of it in my head has me enamored, though, so today I set to work writing it as a short story.

I found myself out of my element again when I realized that half the subject matter required me to break out of the old write what you know comfort zone. I was writing an intense narrative about an experience I only knew peripherally.

When I'm evaluating an artist, versatility is one of the first qualities that comes to mind. When I watch American Idol or So You Think You Can Dance (no spoilers! I haven't watched the SYTYCD finale yet), contestants can really only impress me one of two ways: make the hair on my right arm stand up or give an amazing performance outside of their style. I love Chuck Palahniuk, but I'm often disappointed that his style and plot structure remain so constant across his body of work. The worst thing an artist can do is fail to evolve, grow, test new boundaries.

That said, write what you know is such ubiquitous advice it's become cliché. It's how I wrote 50,000 words in one month last November.

But it's important to remember, Annie Proulx wrote Brokeback Mountain as a 60-something-year-old woman who had spent all but a few years of her life in the northeast United States. She won an O. Henry award for the story, and the movie adaptation won a slew of prestigious film awards. That's pretty amazing, and it reminded me how important it is to stretch my artistic muscles.

The Ebb and Flow of My Desk

2010-08-11T18:37:00.000-07:00

You honor your writing and your writing self when you create a special place for your work. Bring to it all that supports and enhances your writing. Keep it clean and free from clutter. You know the old saying, that a cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind. With all that mess, how can thoughts emerge without their edges catching on whatever is left lying around?

– Judy Reeves, Writing Alone, Writing Together: A Guide for Writers and Writing Groups

If a cluttered desk means a cluttered mind, then my desk is a perfect representation: always maintaining a calm, clear, productive, inviting space, but the clutter around the edges always threatens to tip the scales into claustrophobic panic.

Creative Non-Fiction (Both Auditory & Weekly): Street Musicians, Video Games, and Wandering Thoughts

2010-08-09T19:53:00.000-07:00

This week's creative non-fiction is really meta-writing, a window into a sleepy morning trying to write but continually getting distracted.

So many songs float through my head as I’m sitting down to write in the last few moments before leaving for work. The cicadas have already started their abrasive chorus outside, started working their magic, making the air seem hotter, heavier. I don’t care for this notebook anymore, I want to move into the cute spiral bound banana paper notebook with the owl on it.

I recommit to getting through these last few pages and strains of a melody from the street musician at the farmers market drift through my memory. She was a flautist, I recognized the song. My fingers had traversed the same ground once.

In the shower down the hall my husband whistles a tune and I say, “wow, Final Fantasy VII?” and immediately think how it’s a lucky guy whose girl can play that sort of name that tune. I had an orchestration of that theme once, which makes me think of the music in Darnassus. Pushing video games from my mind suddenly seems difficult.

A diesel F-250 idles out in the alley, the cicadas are still going, I forget about the video games and think of the street musician again. There aren’t enough street musicians in Baltimore. One time I cried in a New York City subway station, my heart wrung out by a single-stringed Asian instrument.

My eyes feel swollen. The morning light offsets the mantle of exhaustion, somehow I keep writing. Three and a half pages to the end of this notebook, to my entry into the banana paper pages and the owl. A flock of pigeons takes off from the roof, wings slapping the air. The truck leaves and the cicadas seem distant for just a moment.

My eyes really do feel puffy. I don’t remember this happening quite the same when I was younger. The clock strikes 8:28 and it’s time to start out to the bus. Any later and I might forget my lunch in the rush. It’s time for my day to begin.

Writing Together, But Alone First

2010-08-08T12:13:00.000-07:00

I recently got a book from the library called Writing Alone, Writing Together: A Guide for Writers and Writing Groups. I have some ideas floating around my head for an urban writers' circle, but I want to do it right. I don't have a particularly vast amount of time to waste on something that's never going to get off the ground.

So far, though, the first portion of the book discusses writing practice for working alone—not unlike Writing Down the Bones, my perennial favorite writing book.

The author, Judy Reeves, points out what many of us know already: the key to become a real and true writer (and one who writes, no less) isn't getting published or writing something great, it's making time to write several times a week. This passage, which draws from prominent psychologists/researchers, gave me a lot to chew on:

The most important talent may be the talent for practice itself...the most important role that innate factors play may be in a person's willingness to engage in sustained training.

Such a simple concept, but it gives any kind of artist a lot to think about.

Creative Non-Fiction (Both Auditory & Weekly): Jay Sean - Down

2010-08-02T19:33:00.000-07:00

Despite quitting caffeine this week, I still managed to write! While survival without my morning coffee has been painful at best, I'm hoping this little detox will do well for my health. Anyway, without further ado, the song of the week:

I’m trying to write about the Atlantic City boardwalk , with its air hung low and heavy and thick. My body slows under its salty residue, vaporized pieces of the sea adhere to my pores. Fish and garbage and funnel cake battle for airspace overhead and the smell falls on me like someone just threw a blanket over my head in a hot attic.

Throngs of people push past one another, most of them drunk or high and just young enough to be lost in their own sea of miniskirts and stilettos. Pop music struggles to be heard, struggles for relevance in the cacophony, ends up sounding caricatured like that person in the group who just never feels heard. Except no one quite expects Jay Sean to struggle for the floor, creating a backdrop that gets lonelier and lonelier against the din, the carnival lights, the ambulance that has pushed past the revelers to collect a man who has overdosed beneath a dark and decaying pavilion.

I’m trying to write this in my head like the one person in the corner actually listening to Jay Sean, ready to nod and say “oh yeah, I got you, ‘baby don’t worry / you are my only / even if the sky is falling down.’ I was listening.” I’m writing this in my head because I’m waiting in line for the bumper cars, half-listening to my friends and everyone else’s, such a flood of conversation.

Dropped in the middle of all this humanity—the humidity, the thin and hopeful pop music, the flashing lights and bells and carnies trying to sell a seat on a barstool with a water gun—yes, this crush of humanity, I wonder how it’s escaped everyone. I want to open my eyes wide because maybe this is the end of the world. This place seems like the last sad, bombastic, completely bizarre outpost of humanity, as if beyond the light pollution orb of this noisy pier is just nothing—everything ending.

Yet everyone is going on like this is just another fun party, no impending apocalypse except maybe for that drunk girl writhing on the ground. Suddenly the haze feels too heavy, like I can’t stand, and I feel desperately lonely for a quiet night inside, far away from this carnival where everyone comes to overdose, to pay another human being to push them in a cart, to take a group picture with the casino lights smiling in the background.

Everyone still keeps talking, eagerly awaiting our turn to hand over those paper tickets for a ride, haphazardly crashing into one another as the floor and ceiling throw off sparks out of time with the music—another party.

Creative Non-Fiction (Both Auditory & Weekly): Jeff Buckley - Lover, You Should've Come Over

2010-07-26T19:03:00.000-07:00

As in: maybe I’m too young / to keep good love from going wrong. Too young to hold on / too old to just break free and run.

I thought I'd start off the tradition with something appropriately dramatic.

To my sweetheart, the drunk:

(pardon the reference, this isn't to my sweetheart and there's no drunk)

At the end of the week I realized my problem had sprung from a lack of music. I had experienced chronic failure to inject it into my veins, to let it explode my heart within my chest, to open my throat wide so it could come out. I had spent the week adrift, my feet never on the ground, my soul standing with one foot outside the door.

Now here I was, stretching my voice to reach into the playlist I’d so aptly titled “Songs I Wish I Could Sing.” Since the house was empty I could actually half do it, experimenting with range and emotion, letting my voice bounce fearlessly off all the walls. Even as I was relaxing, releasing, digging in and supporting these songs with the strength of my body, I was wishing I could do this for someone else. Wondering why song, like my rawest emotions, bruised itself continuously against an invisible wall every time I tried to project it in the direction of someone I loved.

Oh, but then I thought of you, too. Imagined you at the piano with this lovely creature of a piece that was so full of heartbreak. I wondered, having never heard you use your voice that way, if you could—or more appropriately, if you would, if you would want to. If you had ever experienced a desire for song that verged on...could I say it?

Music is such a visceral, physical pleasure. Everyone I’ve fantasized myself into song with should know it, but that’s where it all collides, leaning defeated against a wall inside, somehow keeping a straight face while fighting to burst free. It engages in an interplay like lovers hidden in a tiny room, one about to cry out, the other placing an extended index finger over that sly smile, the one that says “this is ours, don’t let them hear.”

Eventually, of course, the song had to end despite itself, despite repeating lines of “it’s never over” (my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder). As it faded away into the next song it set me down firmly on my feet, the ground feeling solid for the first time all week.

New Feature! (Music Vignettes)

2010-07-25T20:31:00.000-07:00

Back when I was writing Words + Images, I made a strict blogging schedule. I did this primarily to draw traffic, having read somewhere that a predictable schedule increases readership. About the time I realized my "blog nights" were starting to control my social life and it seemed like a second job, I shut the blog down and reconsidered, eventually landing on this format.

While I doubt Mix Tapes & Scribbles garners me the same kind of Official Blogger rep, I feel better about its goals and intent. At the same time, I do miss having some kind of structure and connecting thread.

For now, that thread is going to be a weekly creative non-fiction piece. I'm excited because it's a gratifying genre and this feature will keep me producing small pieces of writing on a regular basis (this feels more and more necessary as novel editing progresses).

Since I talk so much about writing in here, it's apt to give my strong feelings about music a platform. Each vignette will be told through a musical experience (clues in the post title). I'm hoping to have the first one up sometime tomorrow (and on Sunday or Monday every week thereafter), so look out!

Volume

2010-07-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

Somehow, in getting to my class website (don't ask how, it's on my bookmarks toolbar!), I get waylaid on an art website for someone with whom I graduated high school. Both of us went on to earn our BFAs, but in the years since then she has obviously continued producing visual art at an impressive rate. I haven't maintained this kind of volume.

Mind you, I am writing, but I'm not submitting to literary magazines. I'm not monitoring Art Deadlines List very closely and I'm not keeping up with Baltimore Art Blogs to see calls for submissions. In short, I'm not filling out my CV. The content under my "Exhibitions" and "Collections" headings is decidedly thin.

If I publish a novel that will certainly be a game-changer in terms of my artistic self-image, but for now I'm wondering: am I doing enough? Art requires ambition above all else, and sometimes I fear I haven't established myself in a community of fellow artists, haven't been creating at the rate I should be.

At some point, just (ha, just) having a fat manuscript sitting in my writing folder won't be enough...will it?

Lately I've met a few artists who are "just sort of living right now," which I've found to be synonymous with being happily unemployed. And in a state that doesn't ask people to provide proof that they're searching for jobs in order to collect unemployment benefits, why wouldn't they be? However, there's a disconnect there, too. A lot of creative people seem to feel art will just come to them, that inspiration is innate. In truth, one of the best things art school taught me is hard work and ambition are as important as training and talent.

When I come home from deadlines at work only to work toward deadlines for school, I end up feeling like I need down time. I feel entitled to squeeze in an hour of gaming or television. Even though it feels like what I need at the moment, it doesn't feel like ambition. And while we can't be frightfully ambitious 24/7, I'm unsure where to draw the line.

How necessary is downtime to sustain productivity? How much should we be cutting out in favor of pursuing our dreams?

And, as I've asked myself many times before: do I really have the ambition it takes to pursue a long-term dream?

At the end of the day I think I can answer yes to that last question, but it would involve eliminating some of the more heinous timesucks from my life. Disorganization is starting to make my life feel like one big ADD adventure again, and it's time to reign it in.

As I keep posting my writing and creative journeys, I think I'm also going to return some focus to the decluttering of life and home. Simplifying and purifying. Because time and inspiration aren't things we have innately, they're things we create in our lives. And I think I need to create a lot more of both.

Busy Summer

2010-07-20T18:28:00.000-07:00

Things have been a little tough lately: lots of weekends away, the end of my online class looming close, WoW beckoning me to power through the home stretch to level 80. So many distractions!

Tonight, I'm turning that around and putting off outlining my final project in favor of posting a little something on the blog. Also, as I recently posted on Twitter, Hemmingway wrote 500 words per day. 500 words seems like hardly anything at all, and it makes me want to set a similar goal for myself. However, I got to wondering, where does this leave me for editing? Sometimes I'm doing a lot of cleanup work and might not make a net gain of 500 words even though I've written/revised that many. This is a quandary, but on the bright side, I opened up my manuscript tonight and noticed 1000 words had jumped in there somehow! I'm now up to 52,528. In case you were wondering, here's the latest addition (comments welcome):

###

Claudia’s car felt warm under her back as Mariana stretched out across the trunk, settling her shoulders on the rear windshield and squinting at the clouds. A breeze swept through the treetops and she closed her eyes for a few seconds, drinking in the earthy scent of Fall.

“Mariana!” Claudia’s voice startled her back to the present.

“I’m right here—what?”

“Seriously? I said your name three times.” Claudia’s green eyes were fixed intently on hers, reflecting the smirk on her lips. “We have to go—we’re going to be late.”

Mariana sat up on the edge of the trunk and adjusted her shirt. John positioned himself between her knees and turned her chin up toward his face.

“See you tomorrow morning,” he said after a long kiss. His eyes seemed oddly soft and sentimental as he gazed down at her. Mariana saw Claudia look at the ground when he pulled her in for one last hug.

“Hey—you’re going to make us late.” She slipped out of his embrace, gave him a peck on the lips, and headed for the passenger door. Claudia broke from her gaze at the driveway, then tossed her keys in the air and caught them.

“Bye John!” she said as she got in the car beside Mariana.

“Later—thanks for the ride.”

Mariana glanced over at Claudia as she pulled out of John’s driveway, but her eyes were focused on the road ahead.

“Hey, do you want to pick out some music? That Rilo Kiley CD’s been in there for like a week straight.”

“Sure.” Mariana pulled a CD case from under her seat, unzipped it, and began paging through discs.

After a minute or two Claudia broke the silence.

“So what’s up with John?” Mariana’s heart leapt a little.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he just—he just seems weird lately I guess.” Claudia lifted a hand to her hair and twisted a piece near the back of her head.

“How so?”

“I don’t know, I thought you would have noticed—that’s why I asked. I wanted to make sure things were alright with you guys.”

Mariana sighed and looked up from the CDs. Late-afternoon sun illuminated a cornfield to their right, gold husks set off against the purple sky.

“I mean, I guess he’s been a little weird ever since he got his early decision letter. He hasn’t talked to me much about it though.” She settled further down into the seat and rested her foot against the dash.

“Huh.” Claudia narrowed her eyes toward the road. Her hair was sticking out from where she’d twirled it a minute before. “What does that mean for you guys?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like, what are you going to do when he leaves? You’re not looking at anything out there, right?” Mariana suddenly wished she could escape from the conversation, but she knew Claudia would keep pushing through it.

“No—I don’t know. We really haven’t talked about it that much. I tried to ask but he just said he wanted to enjoy the time we have for now—he said it’s depressing. He doesn’t want to think about it right now because it’s hardly even November yet.” She began paging through the CDs more intently until she hit U2’s Achtung Baby. Once Zoo Station came through the speakers, she turned the music up and let it carry them down the road.

Writing Excerpt Time!

2010-07-12T20:42:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted a writing excerpt on here for a while, and I thought it appropriate because I've been adding big chunks of content to my manuscript. Here's something I did last weekend:

###

Mariana woke with a start. Her mind took a few seconds to catch up and remind her where she was. John’s face remained serene, almost childlike beside her, his lips slightly parted. Anxiety pushed her awake and she wrested he arm from beneath his shoulders, twisting her neck to see the clock on the corner bookshelf.

“John—“

He stirred, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“It’s 11:48.”

“When did your mom say you had to be home?”

“Midnight.”

“We’d better get you out of here.” Before he’d finished his sentence, Mariana had already stood up and headed for the door. The two of them tip-toed single file through the kitchen and dining room to the front entryway, where John carefully turned the deadbolt and let Mariana walk outside ahead of him. Next to her car door, she glanced down at his bare feet on the flagstone walk and imagined him walking inside after she left, crawling into bed in his green room at the back of the house.

“Good night,” he said as he drew his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a long kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Mariana didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to pick her keys up off the passenger seat and start the engine and drown out the possibility of more words between them. She breathed deeply and savored the smell of his clothes, Old Spice and a hint of sweat and the particular scent of his house. But John was already moving to open her door and hold it for her.

“Come on, you’ve only got nine minutes to get home before your mom disowns you and starts cleaning out your room.”

Mariana tried to manage an airy laugh.

“Huh, I wish.”

John ignored her comment and closed the door behind her.

“Good night. Drive safe,” he said through the open window. Mariana smiled and wiped the dew off her side view mirror with her sleeve. Then she shifted into reverse and carefully backed down the driveway, glancing up to watch John walk back across the flagstones to his front door before she accelerated down the road.

She had gotten home in six and a half minutes before, but only once. Mariana wondered sometimes how she had accomplished it, whether the secret lay in how she took the turns or in her acceleration through the straightaways. Tonight she had enough time, but just barely enough. Trees passed by in a silver-green blur as she started to outrun her headlights. The car felt weightless for a split second as she crested a rise at close to 65 miles per hour, came down hard on the other side, and downshifted around a turn with a jagged outcropping of red shale closing in on her right.

As she descended through the gears and her neighbors’ post-and-rail fence took on a clearer shape in her periphery, Mariana breathed a sigh of relief. Her car stereo blinked 12:00 just as she turned into the driveway. The crunch of gravel under her tires urged her to slow her breathing, purge her body of its adrenaline.

Bouncing Around, But Getting Things Done

2010-07-05T19:13:00.000-07:00

Despite code red air quality alerts, unpleasantly hot (99°) temperatures, and a lack of sufficient air conditioning throughout my house, I made today's paid holiday hours productive ones. This is encouraging, since the forecast is calling for highs of 103° for Tuesday and Wednesday. Hopefully I'll be able to keep a positive outlook on life until things calm down (read: cool down) later in the week.

On the bright side, today felt more balanced than my life has in a long time. I woke up in a good frame of mind, thinking about various professional development I've undergone lately, specifically where I've heard the words "don't fight yourself." Clever girl that I am, I contemplated how I could apply this to my life at home, too. I think ADD adults spend a lot of energy fighting our natures, and sometimes it's important to remember we need that energy for creating positive, self-affirming strategies for living our lives.

I'm past making excuses for my house: it has become a pit. I love a clean, simple, orderly environment, so this makes me feel bad down to my core. And since I've gotten behind on so much stuff, catching up seems positively overwhelming. To make matters worse, the second I see clutter in the hallway, I tend to discount all my efforts in, say, our office. Today I decided to be more reasonable, setting a goal of one room per day and no more. So today I cleaned the bedroom, for real and true, and then accepted the fact that more work would lead to intense fatigue and eventually bad feelings about myself/the house/life in general. Clutter in the hallway was okay, because it gets its own day (not today)!

This small victory really started me rolling, and after I was done I didn't go back to my reading for class (time for that later). I took a break and played some WoW. Then I went back to my reading, added 1000 words to my manuscript (exciting!), and took another WoW break.

I work best when my life is fragmented, likely because I lack the attention span for longer tasks anyway. I get interrupted nonstop at work, but this rarely throws me off because, as I see it, I would have interrupted myself anyway. My mind bounces from one thing to the next, and it's often best to preempt it if I can. Forcing myself to work really hard on a single task (like cleaning out my basement) for a painfully long time leaves me feeling drained and often irrational.

Today, I encouraged myself to stop a task before I got super fatigued and celebrate my victory. This left me feeling energized for the next activity, especially since I built in breaks for myself throughout the day. In the end, I got an amazing amount of stuff done, including washing dishes, doing nearly all my reading for class this week, hitting level 75 with my druid, making my bedroom tidy and clean, and writing 1000 words on my novel. Yay for days off from work!

Grad School Week One

2010-06-27T21:05:00.001-07:00

The other day I began wondering if getting my master's degree might be a big mistake—all that time disappearing. Truthfully, I'm intensely ambitious in the present only. I do make a hobby of crafting big goals for my life, but I suspect it's just because the act of making plans is such an engaging pastime in the present.

Trying (and failing) to think of one long-term goal I have set and actually brought to fruition, I realize I may have a commitment issue. The immediate pain of losing time to spend with friends, work on my manuscript, play my piano, watch movies, and play WoW makes me feel I've lost something. Not to mention all those activities are immediately gratifying: a level gained here, a chapter polished there, a phrase suddenly becoming smooth under my fingers.

This isn't the first time I've gotten into one of these self-questioning frames of mind and rationalized my way out of a commitment, either. But wait! This story has a happy ending, after all.

Instead of feeling discouraged, I did something uncharacteristic, something I haven't done before: I visualized my future. I love to hate the word visualization, mostly because my mind generally refuses to craft a clear image. In this case I don't think I needed one.

All I needed was to imagine how it felt. I let my imagination wander, curious where it would go: I imagined my sandaled feet disappearing beneath a long skirt, eyes in their comfort zone hitting matte black at every angle. I was backstage, but on a quiet day, surveying. Something smelled like sawdust. I imagined a group of jovial adults gathered there to rehearse in the evenings, much like the groups I used to perform with—a pit orchestra wedged between empty seats and stage. Kids in a classroom reading a script for the first time, maybe even one they had written. Opening nights. Music. A small office, tidy, maybe with a secondhand couch, that I may or may not walk into with a baby cradled against my body in a sling.

I may never have this. Life has a way of handing us something slightly different than we had planned. But in imagining what I could create someday, I made my current efforts seem worth it. I guess this is what overly optimistic types call "keeping your eyes on the prize." I don't think I ever thought about what that means. Now I have an idea: when it's hard to see past the and nots (and not having endless hours to wander through writing and singing and aimlessness), sometimes we need to reach out and touch the thing we're working for in the end. Because in reality, 18 months is hardly any time at all.

And as a creative person, that imagining shouldn't be so hard to do.

And the Graduate Adventure Begins...

2010-06-22T16:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I began my first grad school course. I think I've been feeling as if, because my degree program is exclusively online, I can weave it seamlessly into my everyday life. Not so. An accelerated 18-month master's program does not slip into one's life unnoticed.

I posted this sentiment on my Facebook profile last night and a friend commented, "welcome to no time ever!" I've always struggled with time management. Actually, I'm surprised I don't have a tag for it yet. The fact that workaholic me said right off the bat I need to make sure I set aside time to practice piano, play WoW, and watch movies is a good sign, though. I'm no stranger to burnout, and every once in a while I take great pains to avoid it.

However, I feel distinctly ready to break out Stephen Covey's Seven Habits again. At times like this I need to remember, above all, how everything we do is a choice. Putting away dishes while a pot of water is boiling. Getting lost on Facebook, spying on people I haven't spoken to since 2003. Using my early Saturday morning to write, not clean or play video games, because I know mornings are where my ideas live. Sitting down at the piano. Watching a movie with my friends or husband. Working extra hours because I feel overwhelmed by my workload.

Each of these things represents prioritizing one thing over another. One of those half-hour jags on Wikipedia could have been a half hour of writing practice. I need to remember that making time for fun stuff is okay (not to mention necessary!) and I should feel good about viewing each time expenditure as a conscious decision. Would I really decide not to write on my manuscript so I could spend 45 minutes reading about people I don't know on the internet? Do I feel comfortable justifying an extra hour at the office—which, let's face it, is not going to be the thing that makes the difference in terms of praise or achievement—in favor of cooking a nice dinner with friends I'm intensely thankful to have in my life?

At first I feared all this time crunching would lead me away from the blog. I think it may do the opposite. It may make it better. Incidentally, the first articles I've had to read have focused on creating multi-dimensional definitions of success by recognizing your own needs, values, and work style. As I continue to face plenty of challenges and shifts in the course of my life, this sort of critical thinking will serve me well. It will also, more than likely, give me plenty of fodder for my writing. We'll see where this big adventure leads, but I'm quite hopeful the challenge will prove worthy of my efforts (and vice versa).

Reading.

2010-06-13T15:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to the library to pay my fines (I'd gotten in a bad way post-surgery and neglected to return a big stack of books), enjoy the air conditioning, and pick out a new stack of novels. Being able to walk four blocks to my local library definitely ranks high on my list of things to love about city life, hence why I was appalled that my convalescence, followed by my late fine issues, contributed to my only finishing four (!) books so far this year.

Mind you, there are others that I've started and not finished, but that hardly counts. Any artist worth her salt knows you've got to expose yourself to what's out there if you want to succeed. Even if you're creating work that's wholly original, it still exists in our cultural context and in the larger canon of People Doing Work in Similar Genres. So even if no one's doing performance art quite like yours, there are still thousands of performance artists out there and you'd damn well better know what a a bunch of them are doing.

To that end, I've been trying to take in a healthy dose of young adult fiction. Part of me feels very reassured by what I'm reading, in that even though this is published work, I feel I could still mark it up and give plenty of editorial suggestions. Also, when I work on my own manuscript I feel more and more like it's developing the proper tone for a young adult novel.

The only hang-up is, sometimes I find young adult fiction a bit patronizing or superficial or just plain, well, juvenile. And that's not what I want for my work—at all. So I feel I need to walk a fine line between addressing "adult" issues and content in a way that's accessible for younger (i.e. late teen) readers and producing high-caliber writing.

As an aside, remember how I read a 472-page book in one sitting a while back? I've already finished one book since 3:00 yesterday afternoon and I'm well into another. This is a genre I tend to plow through like snack food at an all-day conference: after going back a few times I realize I've eaten way more than anyone could consider dignified. I'm offsetting this by also reading The Tempest and a real and true grown-up novel that kept catching my eye on the library shelves.

While we're on the subject of books, here's an open call: of the young adult fiction I read, much of it has (spoiler alert!) LGBT themes. If you've got any favorites, especially ones that focus on the 'B' in LGBT (underrepresented, you don't have to tell me), please let me know!

May Rundown

2010-06-09T20:55:00.000-07:00

June is here, May is over, and it's time to take a look over my goals for 2010 and see what I've been up to. Struggling with ADD often means I lose track of the contents of my days pretty easily, so pausing every once in a while to reflect really helps me figure out what I'm doing with all this passing time. While everyone at the office complains about doing their monthly reports during the first week of the month, I'm thankful for the benchmark/barometer.

May had 31 days to it this year, and I only sat down and did my daily writing practice for 21 of them. That's barely even most of the time, so I need some work there. On the bright side, I wrote a lot on some of those days, in addition to doing some good work on my manuscript. I just need to make sure I'm carving out time every single day and not letting "extenuating" circumstances become an every-other-day occurrence.

In the latter half of May I finally got myself down to Single Carrot Theatre, which is certainly something I'd like to continue doing. In college I had a friend who'd take me to plays, and I guess part of me thought I'd always have a person like that in my life. This month I learned that maybe I need to be that person for others!

A plug for Baltimore folks: Single Carrot is in a great spot (Station North: lots of new art spaces, plus easily accessible and free of the parking and/or transit complications of Mt. Vernon or downtown) and provides an intimate theatre experience not to be missed. The show I just saw was the sort I can measure by how long I spent cocking my head to one side—it's a slightly embarrassing habit when I'm really studying a piece of creative work. Plus you get a complimentary glass of wine or soda and a cheerful greeting when you walk in the door!

Directly after our theater excursion, my husband left me all alone for a weekend, and I took advantage of the opportunity to spend the morning writing at Carma's Cafe in Charles Village. Baltimore plug number two: Carma's is another absolutely can't miss. Sitting for two hours and focusing solidly on my work was a challenge, but that's why I made it a goal in 2010! That work session got me over a big editing hump, and I think this weekend I'll try dropping by the Evergreen, where all the trendy writers seem to hang out on their laptops.

In terms of big projects, I rededicated myself to editing my manuscript and got some really nice work done on it. I also started decluttering the house and making way for my new work space by spending an entire weekend in the basement sorting through stuff (and deciding to give most of it away to the Salvation Army). Big life news arrived on the scene, too, as I enrolled in an online MBA program concentrating in non-profit management.

While I'm not ready to move/create my office quite yet—our quick-and-cheap basement remodel needs to happen first—I did buy a real desk chair. My back is thanking me at this very moment, and typing away at my desk feels so much nicer!

All in all, I feel good about May, if not the first half of June. I've gone through a lot of rededication to my creative practice, and it feels good to be getting my life back again after my surgery disrupted the rhythm of things so much.

Trying to Avoid a Crash

2010-06-02T17:57:00.000-07:00

Summer is definitely upon us, and this is one of those busy summers that comes around every couple years. Last summer was beautiful and adventurous and full of friends and mojitos and space to slow down if we wanted to. I dug a big pile of bricks out of the yard and used them to edge the garden, I weeded and I cleaned. I stayed out until 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning caught up in late-night, lounge on the couch, doze off and wake up conversations.

This summer promises to flash before my eyes, swept up in a whirlwind of weddings and scheduled family weekends and reunions and...done. Right now stands a chance of being the worst of it, with twice-a-week physical therapy, busy times at work, and some ill-planned trips out of town. We returned from Memorial Day weekend on Monday night, only to leave this Thursday for another weekend away.

I haven't felt an exhaustion this bottomless since October, when I was part of a dreadfully understaffed team putting on our first-ever gala event at work. I keep wishing for something to grab hold of me and pull me safely to the other side. Now, like then, I'm not sure how I'm going to make it to the next foothold: next Friday. A free weekend.

Through all of this, though, I've been making a concerted effort to have restful time in the evenings. Tonight I came home from a nine and a half hour work day and promptly devised a way I could avoid doing laundry until Monday. Then I played the piano for a while, wrote in my notebook, washed the dishes. All things that enforce a slowing down. An even pace.

Somehow, through that dedication to not running myself completely into the ground, I've managed to get into editing full swing. Chapters are getting chewed up, expanded, soon even added.

It's so helpful to slow down at times like this, remember what makes me feel most satisfied about my life, and stop to do something that gives me space to think.

Speaking of pianos, great news! Mine arrived safe and sound about a week ago, and it looks beautiful in my dining room. It's anywhere between 80 and 100 years old, and I've played it every day (assuming I've been home) since it arrived. This piano has been in my family since at least the 1930s, broken for most of that time, and just now fixed! Ironically, it just took someone like me saying "I want to fix this," because the repair itself was surprisingly inexpensive.

Waiting.

2010-05-26T07:53:00.001-07:00

Organizing manuscript notes and waiting for an order to emerge while I wait for the piano movers to arrive.

Accepting Rust

2010-05-23T10:01:00.000-07:00

So a lot of exciting things are going on! As a brief summary, I checked another item off my list of things I absolutely have to do in 2010 by seeing CRUMBLE (Lay Me Down, Justin Timberlake) at Single Carrot Theatre on Thursday. I liked the play and thought it was well-executed on all fronts, so nothing but good news there.

In other good news, Piano Day is almost upon us! I'm fulfilling a lifelong dream on Wednesday, when I'm expecting an antique piano to arrive in my dining room. There will be a post about the piano's history, plus photos of its arrival. Yay!

However, before I get into all that (there will be time enough midweek), I've been thinking lately about perfectionism, aptitude, and attitude when it comes to creative work. I've said it before and I'll probably say it many more times: I struggle with perfectionism as an impediment to my work.

Despite all I've said about it, though, I've never mentioned the one case where aptitude won out against perfectionism in my life. When I was nine years old, I decided to learn to play the flute. It wasn't my first instrument or my last, but it was by far my best. For many years, I planned on playing my flute as a career, getting a BFA in music performance and signing on with a major symphony orchestra.

The flute was/is the one art I have ever felt, deep in my heart, set me apart from the crowd in a big way. Yes, I gave poor auditions and yes, I played obvious wrong notes sometimes. But I never felt I had met my match among my peers. This was something I felt unequivocally great at--when I tried to be the best, I was.

However, by virtue of self-doubt (as always, I wondered if I had the focus) and/or listening to other people, I didn't get that music degree. To this day, I gravitate toward people with performing arts degrees because I feel I relate to them on some basic level, but if I chime in too much I end up feeling like an outsider. A fake. A wannabe. After all, anyone can be a big fish in a small pond. Every teenager wants to take the stage for thousands of people. But I never really showed the world what I had.

At the same time, I know few people with performing arts degrees who have made it their primary career. In fact, if I look at my two closest friends with BFAs in performance, both are working for non-profit organizations, just like me. It's possible--maybe even likely--that I would have ended up in the very same place with or without the music degree I always wanted.

These days, I spend a lot of time singing and playing the piano, mostly because it's a great solo combination. I don't need to rely on a group of fellow performers to give me context. But I can't help but wonder if falling in love with being a mediocre singer is, in some sense, an easy way out. Not that I don't enjoy or shouldn't do those things, but no one is ever going to watch me sing and approach me afterward to say "that was incredible. Really incredible."

And by the same token, it hurts a lot to know that at this point, no one's going to say that after seeing me perform on anything. Not playing for four years while I went to college really set me back, and it's hard to get out my flute without focusing more on what's not there than what is.

I'd like to touch on this again, and more: the knowledge that I'm free to do anything I want, but I'm often impeded by the feeling that I've turned my back on something fundamentally important in my life. I really need to own the spot I'm in and make it what I want, but that's hard work indeed for a self-critical perfectionist like me. I'm interested to know if this is a common struggle for people who devote a lot of energy to a creative art in their younger years, only to be set back by a demanding degree program, a lack of a piano or fellow musicians, or a pure and simple lapse. Everything comes back eventually, but it's hard to face the reality at first. It's hard to realize you've let a great tool get rusty.

The First Step

2010-05-16T16:15:00.000-07:00

After coming to the conclusion that no one in the world wanted to help me clean out my basement -- or even sit and make conversation with me while I did all the work myself -- I decided to make a weekend out of it all on my own.

The situation: about a year ago, my parents packed a van full of all my childhood/teenage possessions that still existed in their house. My basement, which I'd just spent a long time cleaning and felt great about, was suddenly full of boxes upon boxes of completely unorganized junk. A lot of it had memories attached, and the task of dealing with all that stuff was so big and nebulous I just avoided the basement altogether -- until this weekend! Really, there's no pretty way to say it:

I began the day on Saturday with coffee in my Tomorrowland mug (which I love) and leftover brownies. Delicious!

By the time I reached 4:00 this afternoon, every muscle in my body was tired, but I was only one Broadway musical away from the finish line (more on this in a minute). The fatigue in my veins felt almost cleansing, pleasant to my calmed senses. Cleaning out makes my whole life feel lighter. By letting go of all the extraneous stuff in my life, I can give my mind room to breathe while really cherishing the artifacts I do choose to save from my past.

Remembering the 7 Habits, I began my weekend with the end in mind. Clearing out the basement and building a room down there is the first step in a chain reaction that will give me a really nice writing space. One of my goals for this year is to establish an "office" that acts as a writing studio, a space that I feel great about rolling out of bed and heading into to write in the morning. Letting go of a lifetime of clutter (which is totally empowering anyway) will allow this to happen, and that awareness really kept me motivated while I worked.

In the course of my travels through the mess I found some angsty artwork from seventh grade and a truly scary marionette.

Also, rather than exhausting myself entirely early on, I made sure to pace myself and take breaks before I reached a state where I absolutely couldn't go on. I started with on-the-go playlists on my iPod, but quickly began using musicals to divide my time into manageable chunks. Not wanting to break up the story, I stayed put until each show was over. I listened to:

Gypsy
Passion
Into the Woods (actually too long for this -- I got really tired by the end!)
Songs for a New World

Between musicals I made sure to take legitimate breaks: sit on the couch and read, play WoW, lay down, write in my notebook, etc. And guess what: I made it! Much like they do on reality TV, I sorted all the stuff I wanted to keep (actually less than I thought -- the picture below shows about 1/3 of it) into our storage room and left the main basement room full of boxes to give away. Now to figure out where it can go!

All in all, it was a great and productive weekend. I even found a binder full of letters that inspired me toward a major writing project. I've been waiting for the right protagonist to stumble into my life, and I think I've got him. But that's "a whole nother" post, as they say.

And look, I even got a chance to pot some tomatoes and strawberries for late-summer snacking!

Singing New Songs

2010-05-12T19:29:00.000-07:00

Recently I recorded another song phrase in Evernote with the intention of fleshing it out later. I did this a few weeks ago with another song, actually wrote down the lyrics to the whole thing shortly after singing a single phrase. I can feel an organic process developing here, and I like it. I haven't mandated or structured this, I've just let it happen. Part of me realized that making songs is sort of like my other writing: lots of rewrites, lots of revision, polishing pieces and making them into a whole later.

It's reassuring to know I can develop a process that feels good when I used to discourage myself so much -- thinking if something wasn't perfect I had to scrap it. Refusing to believe in rough drafts for songs and poetry.

I've written about relaxing before, and how performers need to know how to relax their bodies to be at the top of their game. Writers need to relax too, occasionally writing with the whole arm, always letting the words come out uncensored. After all, tense writing seems an awful lot like strangling your sound with anxiety when your're trying to sing.

At any rate, in the near future I may try to get some of my song ideas off the page. While wandering an antique store last Sunday I suddenly found myself playing a piano, which shocked me a little. I didn't realize until I'd already picked out a line or two what I was really doing, what it meant -- small pieces of my life are coming back to me one by one. If I just relax and forget about all that could be holding me back, things just happen.

Writing, Among Other Things

2010-05-09T19:41:00.000-07:00

It's been a quiet week on the blog, but in a surprising plot twist I've actually been writing more than usual. A week ago I sat down and struggled through three-quarters of a page in my notebook before getting too tired. Two days after that, I filled four solid pages and suddenly my writing practice clicked back on course. A return to my requisite pen and paper exercise usually causes a dip in my blogging, probably because I'm so excited to be funneling my writing energy into that space again.

Anyhow, this week has been full of sights and sounds, new pens and notebooks, and new and different faces -- all potential distractions I decided to turn into motivation.

I've heard that exposing very young children to new and different environments can speed their development, creating new connections in their brains and pushing them toward early childhood milestones. As an adult, this effect works its magic on my writing. I primarily think in words, so catch me staring off into space and my thoughts probably sound a great deal like the scribbles in my journal. Getting out of my rut and exposing myself to a variety of people and places pulls out phrases that wouldn't have surfaced at my desk -- the world becomes electric, my senses heightened, and small details really pop.

We spent this weekend entertaining my mom and sister, and having out-of-town visitors makes me view the city in a different light. Not only do I travel outside my usual radius to find the water blowing up in a fine mist off the harbor, a roomful of orchids at the conservatory frozen like dancers in the air -- I see my everyday surroundings through an outsider's eyes. My perspective on my neighbors setting up a picnic with their two-year-old in the backyard, that belligerent homeless guy in Fells Point Square, a stately brownstone, a boarded-up house, changes completely. I wonder what it all looks like to my 11-year-old sister who has experienced little outside our town in rural Pennsylvania. Or my mother, who has lived in the suburbs, the city, and the country, but most recently (and most steadfastly) the country.

Even seeing familiar friends but relocating to a balcony with stars overhead, the Baltimore skyline in the distance, and streetlights in the corners of our eyes left me enamored with the tiny details of life. I felt uniquely present in a significant moment, even though for all the world it looked like any other day.

Last night I was trying to capture this wide-eyed delight in the perceiving in my notebook before going to bed and realized all my favorite pens were on empty. Lately I've started running out my pens on a somewhat regular basis, which makes me feel good about the amount of writing I've been getting done. While replenishing my stock today I found the most adorable notebook and bought it despite two dangers: one, in the past I've had trouble writing in nice notebooks because I feel obligated to fill them with equally nice writing. Two, I often get antsy and move on from my current notebook long before it's full.

Today I decided that I'm feeling good enough about my writing practice not to set silly standards for it, and having a fun notebook to move into should motivate me to write a lot in order to fill my current one as quickly as possible. We'll see how it goes. I'd love to find myself in a race to the finish, filling page after page with unexpected thoughts. For now, I will show off some photos and make a note that my new notebook is made from 80% post-consumer recycled paper and 20% banana fiber. That's right, I'll be writing on banana leaves. Also, that makes it a "tree-less" notebook, which I think is pretty cool given the many eco-positive arguments for writing on electronic paper.

All in all, what a great week for writing. Next up: making headway toward a great writing space in my home, or maybe just enjoying a return to my old, good habits.

Just What You Ordered: A Disjointed Post About My Weekend!

2010-05-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

This weekend I...

Went outside at 8:30 on Saturday morning, weeded the front bed, and enjoyed my coffee on the porch steps while surveying the neighborhood and taking in the little details that make everyday life so beautiful:

I also started singing a new song and actually bothered to record a little snippet of it in Evernote so I'd remember it later. With my 2010 goals in mind, I'd like to try my hand at working it into a finished product at some point.

Earlier this evening I sat down to my daily writing and got through about three quarters of a page in my notebook before my writing muscles started burning with exhaustion. All in all, not too bad given my right arm is just barely regaining usefulness. I'm hoping for a tiny bit more every day, but I'm not going to push the fatigue too hard lest I evoke a return of the sore and sleepless nights.

Not part of the feature presentation here but getting an honorable mention for the weekend are: succumbing to the nesting instinct and planning home improvement projects with tape measure in hand, leveling both my main WoW characters, and overcoming my fear of telephones to discuss possible writing projects. Whew!

Last but not least, you may have noticed I somehow -- don't ask me how, really -- managed to get a camera up to my face even though I'm unable to lift the top half of my right arm off of my body. Oh, and I'm still wearing a sling. Ssshhh!

The Kinetic Sculpture Race in Patterson Park was really too much not to photograph, even though I'm not really an event photographer. I took around 150 photos (I think), a small sampling of which I uploaded to a little photo essay on Flickr. Here are a few of my favorites:

Don't Carry Troubles

2010-04-28T18:47:00.000-07:00

I don't generally subscribe to newspaper horoscopes, but Free Will Astrology makes me glad it's part of my job to read the Baltimore City Paper. This week my horoscope was so apt, I just have to share it!

(Click for an eye-friendly option)

Making Lists

2010-04-27T19:16:00.000-07:00

Last night I sat down to write, but didn't really feel inspired to expand on any of my notes. Instead, I found myself making a list. Somehow I've managed to feel both overwhelmed and directionless lately, and I'm not sure whether to blame that on ADD or not having a right arm (or maybe both).

Whenever I feel like giving up on something or just need to calm down, I make lists. The act of cataloging tasks, organizing them, breaking them down, and finally crossing them off a list is very therapeutic.

This time, I laid out the things I hope to accomplish in 2010. I tend to set overambitious goals, so we'll see how far I get. What seems easy now may seem ridiculous in the Fall, but then again, I wrote 50,000 words last November!

I even made a separate page to store my list, but for now I'm going to introduce it right here. My creative goals for 2010:

Finish editing my NaNoWriMo 2009 manuscript and send it out into the world.
De-clutter my house. The whole thing. Seriously.
Begin writing a stage or screen play, preferably as a collaborative project.
Win NaNoWriMo again.
Write a short story.
Begin pursuing a graduate degree.
Compose an original song.
Learn to play a song fluently on the piano, including singing.
~~Audition for something.~~
See a Single Carrot Theatre performance.
See a Broadway musical.
~~Write a poem and share it, even if it isn't very good.~~
Write a short story.
Fill three notebooks.
Starting in May, get out of the house to write at least once per month (and document it).
Create a writing space in the house (with desk and comfortable chair) where I feel productive.
Starting in May, write for at least 15 minutes every day (or at least 90% of the time...).
Take a creative retreat weekend (and document it).

Sycamores

2010-04-22T15:17:00.000-07:00

I had a drawing professor once who occasionally made us draw with our non-dominant hand. She said we would draw more freely, using our whole arms, and our proportions would be more accurate. This is the first drawing I think I've made in almost three years.

Pen and Ink

2010-04-21T17:30:00.000-07:00

Recently I discovered a blog called Notebookism, which consequently led me to discover this article: How You Should Take Pen to Paper, and Why. Seeing as I haven't been able to take pen to paper for a few weeks, this really resonated with me.

The author paints pen-and-ink writing as a nostalgic experience -- the smell of the ink, the swooping letters on the page -- but takes it a step farther, too. He contends that "this is what we should be doing rather than email. We should be writing to people on paper with fountain pen and ink. Even broken penmanship can be as smooth as soft summer waves. And the waves can carry the thought."

He is right to say that thoughts in writing come from the heart. For years I have kept writer's notebooks, journals, records of my thoughts. I have never written with my heart so much as I have done in those books. Many times I even address a "you" in my writing, like a letter never meant to be delivered.

I've already written about how much I adore the sight of my friends' handwriting -- on letters, in margin notes in a manuscript, on post-its left on my desk. Handwritten words carry more soul than type.

Writing with pen and paper is a tactile experience. I am particular about the kinds of pens and paper I use for my writing, and I always have been. I loved working at Staples as a teenager in part because it afforded me so many opportunities to examine the selection of notebooks, test their feel in my hand, fan the pages, measure them to see if they would fit in my bag. I loved the ritual of choosing, finding. Pens, too -- I was constantly searching for the right one. For about 10 years now my personal choice has been the Pilot G2 7mm gel ink pen, current colors lime and carmel. These pens feel balanced in my hand, write reliably, and allow my hand to move quickly and easily across the page.

Author Natalie Goldberg (of Writing Down the Bones, a book I refer to often) recommends writers relax their bodies, ignore the margins on the page, let their handwriting go sloppy, and just write. Never stop to think, just set a timer and write continuously. At its core, writing is a primal experience. Just like music, it can exist in a very academic space, but when a performer makes a deep, raw connection to a song, we know. Likewise, when I read back through my daily writing exercises, decode all the scribbles and find a place where I broke down my hesitations and just wrote directly from heart to hand, I feel that. I feel it on a level I just don't get from typed letters on a screen.

Maybe this is why I've chosen to make audio recordings on a few occasions instead of typing out my daily writing in Evernote. Stripped of my quick-writing right hand, the next best thing is to see if I can keep talking in a constant stream until my thoughts are emptied out.

As we gain more and more tools for recording our thoughts, it's important that writers not forget our craft is a tactile one, too. We need to keep notebooks as much as a visual artist needs a sketchbook, so we can feel our words coming straight from our hearts.

Weekend Full

2010-04-18T18:13:00.000-07:00

This weekend was full of personally significant moments, like I was getting reacquainted with my life again. I started my application essay (finally deciding to go ahead with my non-profit MBA) and managed to articulate better than ever what I want from life. Check it out:

My dream job is running a non-profit performing arts center that puts on provocative music and theatre performances and provides a space for youth and adults to hone their craft -- be it acting, writing for the stage or screen, or putting poetry to music. I want to create a safe space where people of all ages and backgrounds can experience the intensity and enchantment of stage performance.

And also, while at a training for work (and secretly for me, too) I heard these words:

"Life is worth the risk."

Life is worth the risk. Yes. What good words to hear -- really hear -- right now. Because to get anywhere we must always be changing, always be willing to dive in headfirst. What a good thing to remember.

Bouncing Back

2010-04-13T19:52:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I heard some words that hurt a little bit.  No, no one was picking on me.  I'm talking about those people in my life who I can depend on to give the honest (and sometimes obvious) advice I'm not quite ready to hear.

So the truth? If I really, really wanted to be actively productive right now, I probably would be. I'd be stubbornly perfecting the left-hand part on some new songs.  I'd be typing one-handed, wearing out my wrist on my manuscript every day.  Instead, I've been reading and watching movies and eating animal crackers.

As an ADD person, this can be a big sensitive spot when said the wrong way.  After all, we hear a lot of hurtful (read: ignorant) words labeling us lazy, unmotivated, inconsiderate, unconcerned.

The truth is, that has nothing to do with it.  This is just where I am right now.  Maybe I just need to, well, recuperate.  Despite having only one arm, there's not a whole lot I can't do...just some things I shouldn't.  Examples include: hunching over a piano or computer, going on too many long car rides, and dancing around and acting silly.

Since these things aren't impossible, it's easy to overdo it.  Really, I should be sitting still and watching movies. Even more, it's okay to let myself want that. Maybe I feel like that's a wrong thing and I want my old self back, but this takes time.  I've never had a bounce-back period this long before.  More than likely, I need to stop moping, stop sneaking in two-handed typing, and just accept the fact that I want to take some time off.  Because that's the natural -- and most healthy -- way to recover from surgery.

And hey, at least I'll be able to say I watched five seasons of Weeds and all the 2010 Oscar winners when it's all said and done.

Picturing My Way Out the Other Side: 6

2010-04-12T19:45:00.000-07:00

Today was this color:

Picturing My Way Out the Other Side: 5

2010-04-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

I-83. Backdrop: Rilo Kiley, Pictures of Success.

Picturing My Way Out the Other Side: 4

2010-04-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

Picturing My Way Out the Other Side: 3

2010-04-09T19:06:00.000-07:00

Picturing My Way Out the Other Side: 2

2010-04-08T21:20:00.000-07:00

Pleasure seeking.

Picturing My Way Out the Other Side: 1

2010-04-07T20:47:00.000-07:00

You'd think life would be returning to normal two weeks after my surgery, but not quite. Not being able to write has been disorienting, I'm surrounded -- or not, it's turning into a ghost town -- by illness at the office, my husband has been pushing to meet deadlines at work, and the house is in a bit of a state due to my reduced capacity for general upkeep. On top of that, I've almost certainly been infected with mono, so I'm sort of waiting around to see if I actually get sick.

A couple years ago when I felt a little lost, I started documenting the places life took me on foot. I collected little grainy pictures in my plastic camera, snippets of sights seen in Baltimore.

This time I'm just using my phone. I'm going to take a picture of each day until life irons out again. Look, I even made this one look like it came from my 110 camera!

(Oh, and welcome back to daily posting!)

Disability & Disorientation

2010-04-04T09:32:00.000-07:00

There have been plenty of times when I've said that I generally lack ambition. In art school my professors talked about a drive to create, an insatiable need to keep working. They even used it as a cautionary note about choosing a partner who would understand and give us the necessary intangible room for art-making. I always thought that that was something that applied to other people, not me. After all, I had never created anything great. But times like this, more than anything else, show me what that need to create really means.

Most of my friends keep telling me I'm lucky. I'm lucky to have so much time to sit and watch movies, reruns of Weeds, to read a book or just not to do anything. And isn't that really enviable? Don't we all want extra leeway at work, plenty of down time, guilt-free television watching, an excuse not to accomplish anything for a while?

And maybe we do, generally speaking. Maybe I do. But when it comes down to it, I just can't enjoy it. I can't.

Do we call that an unfortunate excess of ambition that I'm suffering from? Maybe. All I know is when I wake up in the morning and realize I have all of these songs, all these words running through
my head and I'm not able to get them out in the way I'm used to, it's hard to get up and get going. I feel extra needy of support from my friends. When I'm by myself, I start feeling like life means less,
somehow. This is really unusual for me. Usually, alone time is full of creative energy.

This is all to say that being prohibited -- physically or otherwise -- from creating in the way we are used to can be very traumatizing for an artist. It removes part of our sense of belonging in the world. I'm not sure how to get around this. I guess the only choice is to find ways of creating anyway, ways of doing what I do anyway, despite physical limitations.

So far I've a few things that work. Among them:

Voice memos. Unable to write as quickly with my left hand, I've spent more and more time hiding in far corners of the house whispering voice journals, secrets, letters I'll never send. This amounts to my daily writing exercises, and even though speaking is hard to acclimate to, it's something.
Talking about my work. Some of these Evernote voice notes are about my manuscript, and I'm seriously hoping for a chance to talk some things over with a writing buddy sometime soon. At least then I'll be able to create a list of work to do when I can really type again.
Karajan! I may not be able to practice my usual stack of songs on the piano, but plunking out things by ear should be fine, right? Playing by ear has always been my weakest point, so I shelled out 15 bucks for this iPhone/iPod Touch app and wow, was it worth it. I've spent the past few days drilling on intervals and recognizing augmented, diminished, and suspended chords. This is what it's going to take for me to realize this is just another skill, and not a terribly hard one for me to learn. I want to write out a piano version of "Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod" by the end of the week.

Other than that, I'm just left to wait it out, watch those movies, and hope my best friends are able to make a little special time for me while I wander around like a lost lamb.

Seeing, Believing, and Singing a Little Song

2010-03-30T21:09:00.000-07:00

Whenever I'm using my sick time I always feel like it should be a special gift, some paid time to just do my thing. Too bad needing time off from work generally means, well...I'm not well enough to work.

As it turns out, recovering from surgery takes a lot out of you. Noted. But I've had this entry brewing in Evernote for a week now and I feel like it's time to get back into the swing of things just a little.

While vacationing in Disney World with friends and husband, I decided to audition for the American Idol Experience attraction. This was one of those spur of the moment decisions that left me too little time for adequate preparation, but I knew deep down I'd be disappointed if I didn't go for it.

The rundown: with no prep time I had to make a safe choice, so the song didn't show off much besides my ability to pick a song I could sing. Oh well. More importantly, it was the first legitimate audition room I'd set foot in in at least seven or eight years. Secretly, I don't think I audition well. I do well at acting nonchalant all the way until the first note. Then I have trouble seeing it as just another performance and get a little (or a lot) nervous.

Anyhow, that 30 second spot in front of the casting agent was way important for me. Sure, she gave me good feedback after -- that my instrumental music background gives me great breath control and a decent ear, but I don't have quite the depth and breadth of vocal experience they're looking for -- but I'd already proven all I needed to. In that moment, I made myself believe. I proved I could do it.

Since then I've felt different, better, more inspired to keep at it. More comfortable with the idea of singing with my friends, making mistakes, starting one of those ridiculous YouTube-based bands that seem to be all the rage.

This is something I've been watching very closely on the real American Idol, too. I think it could decide who wins the competition. Conviction and a genuine belief in oneself is perhaps the most important ingredient when you're talking about being an artist -- and probably a successful person, too. Once you know, accept, and like who you are, once you feel good about putting that out there and being bold, others can't help but believe right along with you.

YouTube Artist: Approaching Respectable Job Title?

2010-03-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think I have an addictive personality. While it's true that I can't live without caffeine in my life I've learned over the past few days that a narcotics addiction is just not my speed. I've spent three days hovering in oxycodone dreams, thinking I should write a press release for work or return an e-mail or two or maybe get some writing done. It's not until I try to do these things that I realize all the sharp edges of my mind have been dulled. I'm not even taking a high dose, but then again I do have a reputation for being a lightweight.

Today I decided it was time to step it down and start getting back to my normal old self. I still haven't had the inclination to write a word or sing a note or even really read a whole lot of books since my operation on Wednesday, but I did find something really exciting this afternoon. It's called Musicians Wanted on YouTube and it looks like a program created for people just like me in terms of their career aspirations. Seriously. Check out a couple of their promotional videos. This looks like it could be really, really cool. Just another example of how huge and how open the playing field has become in an online media world that encourages us to do and be what ever we want.

On a seemingly unrelated note, thanks to Dragon Dictation for giving my left hand a break from doing all the typing. This post was born 100% spoken word.

A Few of My Favorite Things...

2010-03-23T21:17:00.000-07:00

In a little over eight hours, I'll be in surgery. I started to write a blog entry about that, but what a downer, right? I've had an awful day on account of being preoccupied by my fear of anesthesia and medical procedures.

So guess what, I'll write about the finer points of my day, like writing myself notes so I remember to try to figure out Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod by the Mountain Goats on the piano. In an attempt to make my evening somewhat enjoyable, I sang along with everything, including the continuous procession of songs playing in my head. Hell, once my arm is in that sling tomorrow singing will be one of the only things I can do largely unhindered (though the sore shoulder might make it a little hard to breathe).

This evening reminded me of my previous post on music as a coping mechanism, and this is one of those times when it was great to come home from work, sit down at the piano, and figure some stuff out. Focusing on telling stories through song took the weight of my stress away, and I think I really relaxed for the first time since this week started.

Writing about my experiences and making music have been my standby coping mechanisms since the first moment I had anything real to cope with. Not surprisingly, they're the only two things I chose to do tonight (in addition to watching American Idol, that is).

The Death of Print Media?

2010-03-21T15:15:00.000-07:00

This is something I would usually share on Twitter, but I thought it was so cute and clever that I'd actually make a post about it. You have to stick with it to the end -- enjoy!

Review, Reflect...Reject?

2010-03-21T07:07:00.000-07:00

Over the past few weeks I've written a bit less and read a lot. I tend to operate in phases with my creative work, listening to music nonstop for a couple weeks and then rededicating myself to playing or singing every day, devouring novels one after another before taking out a writing project again, mulling over photography exhibits and waiting for an idea to surface.

Upon coming back from a week-long vacation, the first thing I wanted to do was get my current manuscript out and read over the last half of it with fresh eyes and a good cup of coffee. This I did, and I discovered exactly what point of the creative process I had entered.

I found myself experiencing considerable distaste for every paragraph. Had I really created this haphazard story, these preachy chapters full of flat characters?

I always seem to encounter this hump when working on a big project: the no man's land between finishing the foundation work and beginning to see a well-developed product can be brutal. After spending too much time on something to reasonably turn back, I realize I've brought something utterly mediocre into the world.

This likely happens to every artist, with perfectionists like me experiencing an intensified version thanks to our desire to make everything top-notch material fit to win an award on the first draft. I know I've felt it looking at half-completed paintings, first batches of photographs, and most recently this manuscript that's taken up weeks (months) of my life. Suddenly, I'm struck by the question: was this even worth my time?

I suppose what defines the experience -- and the artist -- is the decision to say yeah, it was, and keep moving. Take the awful last half of that manuscript and make it something to be proud of. Figure out how to make my characters dynamic and believable people the reader feels invested in. Plenty of people stop at this point and let that self-doubt get the best of them, let it convince them that they'll never create something amazing. But some of us don't, and no matter what I think we've got a great accomplishment to look forward to. Nothing great comes out of an easy task -- otherwise there'd be no reason to feel we'd done anything.

Quelling my self-criticism and deciding to keep developing a project past the tough halfway-point is, to me, one of the most important pieces of the artistic process. Overcoming frustration and/or disappointment, refusing to feel embarrassed at the quality of a work in progress, and stubbornly coming out with something I'm excited to put on display gives me perhaps the biggest sense of achievement. It's what -- in my mind -- sets me apart as a professional artist.

Singing With Your Headphones On

2010-03-09T19:46:00.000-08:00

Despite having heard some advice to the contrary, I enjoy singing with headphones on. More accurately, I tend to sing with one earbud in, one earbud out. I think it's pretty effective as an accompaniment, especially for songs I have no hope of ever being able to play on the piano.

During Hollywood Week on this season of American Idol I caught a glimpse of Mary Powers doing the same thing in rehearsal -- complete with holding the iPod like a microphone -- and I thought, hey, it's catching on! So naturally I was pretty impressed when I watched a video about the audition process for Disney's American Idol Experience (I'll be in Disney World next week and have half a mind to check it out) and saw they'd done us one better. They rigged iPods to display the lyrics while the song is playing, kind of like your own personal karaoke. This is what they give you for rehearsal if you make it through to the performance rounds.

Maybe it follows naturally, maybe it doesn't, but my next question was, I wonder what this looks like when I do it? Also knowing recording yourself is an effective practice tool, I whipped out my video camera, pressed the YouTube button, and ran through an entire song.

It was...awful. I watched the entire thing to see if it got better toward the middle (or end), but it just stayed dreadful. I felt like I was watching one of the American Idol auditions where the judges ask, "has anyone actually ever heard you sing before today?"

Ouch. So that left me wondering, is it the headphones thing? I feel like I can hear myself sing. Or is it that at a certain age, you just can't just decide you want to start singing? Well, really? 20 is too old? What if I should have listened to my fellow instrumental musicians when they said "there's a reason we play instruments and don't sing?" What about the people who have complimented me in the past, the juries who have given me passing grades? Does this really need to be an existential crisis, or can I just note the flaws and work them out?

The thing is, this is something find really, really fun. So fun that if I had my druthers I'd put on my carefree and fun-loving face and audition for the Idol Experience while we're in Disney. And who knows, that might end up being the moral of the story: just because you have a discouraging experience doesn't mean you need to give up entirely. And I probably will keep on going like I've been forever, though not without a lot of harumphing along the way. After all, I eventually got over what was arguably my most frustrating performance moment ever: blowing an audition by messing up a scale. I missed the cut by one slot, but still scored at the top of every other category (sightreading and a prepared piece, as I remember). Ugh.

The thing is, no matter what the circumstances I expect all this to come naturally. If it doesn't, I'm just "bad at it." But of course, I'm sure my manuscript has shaky passages I'll need to rework. I play bad notes on the piano all the time. I sat through some brutal critiques on the path to my BFA in Studio Art. It all requires work, even when that work involves watching a torturous video that's nothing like what I saw from my own point of view.

Maybe I just need to spend more time walking around the house with one earbud in my ear.

Good Things Today:

2010-03-07T11:42:00.000-08:00

Every morning begins with Zeke's coffee for me.

One way you and your partner can be mutually inspiring is for one of you to be productive (and joyful about it). My daily piano playing has begun to rub off on Doug, who has a whole repertoire of songs he's learned by ear and memorized. He can't read music, but he can play Ben Folds Five's Brick now just from watching me practice. Anyone want to play Name That Song for this video?

Got this in the mail on Friday. After reviewing my favorite songs and seeing that they're all more or less right in my range, I'm way excited to try singing them.

A CLEAN DESK has made me so much more productive at the office, and I'm ready to start feeling those effects at home, too. My desk hasn't looked like this in a long, long, time -- I feel like I've opened up a whole new world for myself!

Catharsis

2010-03-05T08:11:00.001-08:00

A few years ago, I knew someone who was Chinese and played the violin. She was really passionate about music – playing, sharing with others, everything – and I knew this because it was so clear in her eyes every time I saw her. When someone close to her died, she stopped playing for a little while. This she explained, was because her culture dictates that one shouldn’t engage in anything cathartic during a period of grieving.

I remembered this at an odd time, just sitting on the bus on the way to work today. It gave me pause because throughout my life, I’ve used music as a cathartic vehicle that way: an escape from grief and struggle. I always thought it was a good thing, a way to stay grounded, and I think it’s fascinating to consider a cultural viewpoint completely opposite.

If anyone else out there has used art – be it performance, visual, craft, or anything else – as a sort of cathartic outlet during a difficult time, I’d like to know your thoughts on this. Does it allow us to escape, experience a lesser magnitude of grief? Is this a bad thing? Cultural traditions surrounding grief and loss are really interesting to me – for example, the Jewish tradition of covering all the mirrors in a house where someone has died so mourners needn’t be self-conscious about showing their feelings. Again, this seems to encourage a sentiment of embracing emotion, letting it carry you for a time, and letting it go.

For me, I’ve often said music is the one thing that carried me safely through some really rough (read: angsty) patches in my life. I don’t want to think about how I would have felt without it. I don’t view that as escapism, I view it as self-medication in the best way, like exercising to increase your endorphins. I view it as taking care of myself. But I can also see how someone might argue it’s an act of running away from the full impact of my emotions.

Thoughts?

Perfectionism -- and Letting Go of It

2010-03-02T21:10:00.000-08:00

As artists (and I use the term generally here), we often want to create something great. Even from a young age, when our lives are filled with praise for our talents, expectation tends to accompany it: "you're such a good actor, let me know when your first big movie is coming out," "invite me to all your gallery openings in New York," "you'll autograph a copy of your first CD for me, right?"

These fantasies are a lot of fun as a kid, imagining our great successes later in life. And indeed, it's this aspiration to greatness that keeps us going through good times and bad. I attribute a lot of my successes to being born and bred a perfectionist, and a stubborn one at that.

At the same time, when we get to art school we spend a lot of time debating whether there's anything new under the sun. Are we constrained or liberated by the fact that "new ideas" really don't exist anymore?

And when I find myself feeling no more than average, when I start mourning the fact that I'm not a good friend, that I'm bad at my job, that I'll never be a great writer, and/or I haven't ever done anything truly commendable (none of which are true), I start to wonder: when should I start focusing my energy on tempering this craziness rather than praising it? I'm always wondering, will letting some of my self-criticism and perfectionism go make me complacent? Will it lower my aptitude? Will it hold me back from doing great things?

The truth is, I don't think so. As someone who often thinks if the bar isn't out of reach it's not set high enough, I've been wondering lately if asking too much of oneself can be constraining in its own right. For example, musicians are trained to relax our bodies completely. This is the only way for our fingers to conquer the fastest notes, the only way for our voices to acquire a pleasing tone. How often have we seen a great performance and heard someone say "she makes it look so easy?" In fact, musicians can suffer a whole range of serious injuries as a result of poor technique, keeping tension in wrists and vocal cords.

More and more, I feel like this training can be applied to everything we do in life: only when we are entirely at ease and sure of ourselves, only when we release our tension and stop anticipating difficult passages with trepidation in our hearts, can we sail right on through the rough patches and come out on the other side unscathed and wickedly impressed with ourselves. In this model, worry and perfectionism don't have a place. Sure, sometimes we have to concentrate a little harder to make sure things turn out the way we want them, but unrealistic expectations don't really get us anywhere. It's all just work, and eventually it all comes together into something great anyway -- isn't that why we do it in the first place?

Inspiration #28: Sticking With Something

2010-02-28T19:39:00.000-08:00

Sometimes sticking with something is much harder than it sounds. I have a lot of trouble sticking with things, and that can put me in a rut. But I stuck with these 28 days of blog posts, and look! I have a lot of new material to expand on in future months. Hopefully you've enjoyed this little window into my life as well.

Maybe entirely coincidentally, I've managed to stick with a few other things lately, too. I've played the piano every single day for the past nine days (if I get to 21 it's a bona fide habit, right?). I've spent the past week being pretty dedicated to sorting through, cleaning out, and generally minimizing stuff around the house. This may not sound like much, but I often have a lot of trouble moving past the "I should really..." stage, where I spend a day or two on something and never pick it up again. When I manage to keep up with a pursuit long enough to see the positive results of my efforts, it opens my eyes to a whole new world. I'm discovering that I actually can play the piano. I filled the trunk of my car with stuff to take to the thrift store today, and my living space is beginning to look and feel different (better). I am creating spaces where I feel good about living and working.

Last but not least, four months after National Novel Writing Month began, I'm still writing a novel. My attention span, combined with my sometimes-crippling perfectionism, make personal investment kind of hard to get out of me sometimes. But somehow I've kept it going, and I'm connecting the pathways in my brain that know sustained effort can bring really gratifying results.

Hopefully this trend will continue and some months from now I'll be sending my manuscript away in the mail, playing the piano and singing at the same time (far harder than it looks!), and living in a comfortable and uncluttered house. Wouldn't that be nice?

Inspiration #27: Reading Other People's Writing

2010-02-27T20:55:00.000-08:00

No matter what kind of artist you are, it's important to look at other people's work. This is what our college professors tell us, right? "You can't create art in a vacuum." I guess it's true, since I feel absolutely great when I spend time in a moving photography exhibit, listen to someone sing a song, or read a particularly engaging book. It all gives my mind something to chew on.

Today I finally made the four-block trek to pay my $6 library fine so I could once again request inter-library loans (a favorite pastime of mine). While I was there I visited the fiction section and ran my fingers over the spines, pulling out books that caught my eye. I made a point of visiting the young adult section, since I'm currently writing a novel with a teenage protagonist and could use a little reference material. A thick novel called Absolute Brightness won me over with the flamboyant stripes on its jacket and mentioning of Spring Awakening on the back.

First let me tell you: I read the entire 472 pages after returning home from lunch today. When I began the book I found the prose a little sparse, but I kept reading. I started taking issue with the way gays and "theater geeks" were being portrayed, but I kept reading so I could at least write a proper review at the end.

But as the plot unfolded, things changed for the protagonist and, consequently, for me. I cried a bunch toward the middle of the book. I read the author's bio and found out he's actually an LGBT activist. Then I realized I'd been seeing through his main character's eyes the whole time -- and no, I don't just mean it was written in first person. I only put on my writer's hat for a short moment while I wondered how he was going to get us on her side when she was so snarky at the outset. The rest of the time, I was experiencing everything as she was, prejudices and all.

While I do see how one might find the book a bit preachy and the message too obvious, that might be part of the "young adult" in young adult fiction. However, I'm very glad to have read it even just for the study of a young person who goes from self-centered and judgmental to compassionate and grounded. That's exactly what I'm trying to do with my main character, and it's just invaluable to experience how other authors treat that transformation.

I will say, though, that much reading can really make a person's eyes feel puffy!

Inspiration #26: Not Setting an Alarm

2010-02-26T22:15:00.000-08:00

Most of the time I'd list setting an alarm and waking up early on a Saturday to write as an inspiration. However, there's a certain point you reach after working too many long days, inexplicably finding yourself in front of the piano at 11:45 p.m. several nights in a row, and finally ending your Friday evening fast asleep on your friends' couch, that your body just needs to rest. So instead of pushing myself even further, as I generally want to do, I'm going to take just one day to sleep in and let myself recover from the week. Wish me luck!

Inspiration #25: Dredging

2010-02-25T18:30:00.000-08:00

Almost a year ago, I came up with a big idea for a new photo project. The subject matter was much more personal and far less pragmatic than my previous photo work, which I'd generally describe as a little quiet and intellectual. It also tried to take on portraiture, which had never really been an interest or a skill of mine before.

Tackling a personally tough project at the same time as a new style can be a little daunting, and sure enough my lack of that special Avedon-esque touch in my portraits gave me just the excuse I needed to shelve the whole thing.

A week or two ago I got into a conversation that dredged it up again, and today new ideas finally broke free and got me scribbling out notes at the office so I didn't lose my train of thought. When I got home I wrote for two pages in my notebook about audience, medium, process, and narrative. The project has gotten big again, but this time I'm feeling really engaged in figuring out how I want to make it happen.

Sometimes an idea seems really good, but it's just not ready. Did I mention I first came up with the idea for the novel I'm writing now 13 years ago? Sometimes we realize those ideas weren't so great after all, but sometimes they speak to us in a new and different way when we pull them off the shelf and wipe away the dust. Hopefully that's what happening now, and I guess time will tell.

Inspiration #24: Let's Stay Together

2010-02-24T20:14:00.000-08:00

I couldn't think of an adequate title for this one, so I decided to go the foolproof "reference a favorite song" route.

We're (hopefully!) inspired by our partners in a lot of different ways. They can feel like our opposite, our twin, or maybe equal parts of both, but they're always there to provide a steady stream of companionship and support. I had an interesting conversation the other day about how our partners' critique can affect domestic bliss and creative inspiration, but that's another post for another day. Just suffice it to say, the kind of support I'm talking about is in the pictures below, not necessarily in lengthy analyses of prose or brush strokes.

My husband and I can both be pretty intense about our own personal projects, and sometimes it's important to remember to make time to spend time together as friends enjoying a little down time. He can forget to eat, I can forget to laugh at jokes...check out these little sticky notes I found during another cleaning spree:

Practical:

Adorable:

Honestly, not sure what was going on here. Maybe I was forgetting to laugh again?

Inspiration #23: Company

2010-02-24T06:21:00.000-08:00

I've been one lonely lady in an empty house for the past few days, but there are a couple things that keep me company. Playing the piano until the little muscles in my fingers are all sore can be very therapeutic.

Inspiration #22: Purging

2010-02-22T17:31:00.000-08:00

I'm the kind of person who can see a pile of stuff that needs to be sorted through, shove it in a corner, and not touch it for two years. Don't even try to imagine what happened when my parents brought a van full of my childhood possessions to my house and dumped them in the basement. (Okay, fine, I'll admit it: I haven't really gone down to the basement to do anything but laundry for nearly a year and a half).

On the flip side, we learned all the way back on Inspiration #6 (wow, is this over yet?) that I need a clean, quiet, uncluttered work space. Also, I secretly pine for a more minimalist life (Inspiration #12). These are the things I feel I need to be most productive and most creative.

For the past few days I've been possessed by a strong desire to purge these clutter piles from my life, surround myself with smooth, uninterrupted surfaces. As painful as the purging process can be, I also find it one of the most fulfilling chores I do around the house. Today I felt extra rewarded by finding a total of $115 in gift cards to Target and Amazon.

Rewards like this are nice, especially when the path to my inspiring, clean, uncluttered work and living space is littered with things like random place cards from my wedding. Or even better, a screw that, as of December 2, 2007, we can rest assured will never be usable again. Wonderful.

Inspiration #21: Photo Walks

2010-02-21T12:08:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time since I went on a walk with my camera, but today I decided the weather was just too nice not to. My sister and I went for a stroll up through Roland Park and even saw some budding trees!

Inspiration #20: Entertaining Friends & Family

2010-02-21T12:05:00.000-08:00

As much as I love to set my weekends aside for writing, cleaning, and resting, I forget how much I love to arrange special dinner gatherings from time to time. My dad and sister are in town this weekend, so I invited a couple of friends over to fill out the table and enjoy some food and games with us. We enjoyed a big tray of lasagna, delicious garlic bread, wine, and a caramel chocolate tart with hazelnuts and espresso for dessert. Assembling a group of people and cooking for them makes me feel wonderful. Plus, it's always fun to try a fancy recipe and get out the nice silverware!

Inspiration #19: Friday

2010-02-20T07:52:00.000-08:00

Enough said.

Inspiration #18: Making Sure Your Day Job is Fun

2010-02-18T21:14:00.000-08:00

I worked 10 hours today, only to come home, make dinner, and spend until midnight straightening up around the house. Not a lot of fun, and certainly no time to sit down at the piano or work on my novel. But on a normal day, it's important for an ambitious soul like me to make sure my day job isn't sucking the creative life out of my bones. Lucky for me, I enjoy the work I do. Even luckier, I have some friends at the office who make me laugh on a regular basis.

Because everyone knows that when you're in the midst of a hard day, baffled by your own monthly report, and/or wondering how you're going to meet your deadlines, spending five minutes pretending you're on a reality TV show can be exactly what you need to keep going. That leads to better work, yes, but also to a mood that's much healthier to carry home.