Joan Didion expressed similar sentiments to me just this morning:
You know things are going well with your writing when you’ve used Time Machine’s backup FIVE TIMES in the span of one day.
Thanks to Elizabeth Gilbert‘s “Big Magic” (and a lot of therapy) … I’m over the idea that artists or creators should be tortured.
“I believe that enjoying your work with all your heart is the only truly subversive position left to take as a creative person these days,” Gilbert writes. “It’s such a gangster move, because hardly anybody ever dares to speak of creative enjoyment aloud, for fear of not being taken seriously as an artist.”
Conveniently enough (LOL), I’m already not taken seriously as an artist, and I love any white girl who tells me how to be gangster, so I don’t mind saying this: I had a LOT of FUN writing today.
Yes … FUN!
The word “fun” used to trigger me like you wouldn’t believe. I refused to admit I had fun. Ever. I didn’t want anyone – least of all me – to think I was enjoying something as crazy as … work. Or life, for that matter. I always had this strange sense like if I succumbed to fun, I’d get “in trouble.”
(Replaced that pattern. Thank you NLP!)
And hell yes, I’m at home on a Saturday night, chilling in my bathrobe with my word art and my pink hula hoop and my kombucha and one pretty badass 12-year-old white shih-tzu.
And you know what? I’m … happy.
No red carpet ever made me feel this good.
Tho productive … and hula happy! Especially if Petey keeps sending the checks.
Since Juliar also just posted that she’s going to Miami, the Caribbean, and BVI over the next three months – resort wear suggestions, please! – I’m sure we’ll be seeing Experiments in Crappiness sometime next year.
There’s so much pressure on women to be perfect! Is this the new I-may-fail-at-everything-and-am-too-lazy-to-get-a-job-but-keep-paying-my-rent-Daddy argument? Oh wait, she’s played the anti-perfection card before, but it’s hazy. Anybody remember?
And while we’re at it, sisters – let’s put an end to perfectionism. The relentless stress of having to be perfect ALL THE TIME, coupled with impossibility of EVER achieving such a state – while simultaneously believing (Really believing!) that we must be perfect to be loved: is KILLING US.
“In a recent poll done by Netmums in Britain, 81 percent of those who drank above the safe drinking guidelines said they did so “to wind down from a stressful day.” And 86 percent said they felt they should drink less. Jungian analyst Jan Bauer, author of Alcoholism and Women: The Background and the Psychology, believes women are looking for what she calls “oblivion drinking.” “Alcohol offers a time out from doing it all—‘Take me out of my perfectionism.’ Superwoman is a cliché now, but it is extremely dangerous. I’ve seen such a perversion of feminism, where everything becomes work: raising children, reading all the books, not listening to their instincts. The main question is: What self are they trying to turn off? These women have climbed so high that when they fall, they crash—and alcohol’s a perfect way to crash.”
I ask Leslie Buckley, the psychiatrist who heads the women’s addiction program at Toronto’s University Health Network, if she sees a pattern in the professional women who come to see her. She doesn’t skip a beat: “Perfectionism.”
Such an unforgiving word, such an unforgiving way of being—echoed by yet another doctor, who speaks of patients who look like they stepped out of Vogue: perfect-looking women with perfect children at the right schools, living in perfect houses, aiming for a perfect performance at work, with eating disorders and serious substance abuse issues.
The tyrannical myth of perfection: it seizes the psyche and doesn’t let go. My mother was in its grip, and she paid a serious price for it. This was in the 1960s, when men came home from work and expected dinner and a stiff drink—except my father was usually traveling. For years my mother held down the fort. She wrote perfect thank-you notes, she cooked perfect meals. As a new bride, she ironed bed sheets and pillowcases; as a new mother, she starched our smocked dresses. My sister and I wore white gloves when we traveled, velvet hairbands in our hair, and wrote perfect thank-you notes, too. And then my mother was the one with the stiff drink, and it all crashed—but not before I had it imprinted on me: Perfect was the way to be.”
Not to worry, Donkey. One actually has to put forth some effort to project the illusion of perfection.
Smelly just posted a James Michener-sized screed in which he looks deep into the female psyche, sharing with us the allure of bad boys and how nice guys can become just as enticing to the weaker sex.
Lonely? Awkward? Still can’t get that hottie in homeroom to look at you? Let Michael teach you how to become:
–And of course, how you can become 50 shades of exciting in the bedroom
Soon, you’ll be exciting, too! Envision yourself as a whip-wielding dominant! Maybe you’ll even snag a goddess like Julia Allison, who owes her new found self-esteem to the greasy gargoyle and is now dating a pixie-ish 43 year old who goes by … Rain Phutureprimitive?
Update: Over 10 hours ago Donkey shared “a gorgeous new album” with the world. So far, no one has commented and she’s received one like – from Grape Nehi. I LOVE YOU, RAIN!
The generation gap has been caused by a bad financial paradigm? Has the old raunch informed Lewis Stone and Mickey Rooney? Jim Backus and James Dean? More pressing, will her adopted son and co-parent be participating in this fiasco?
A couple of months ago, I caught the vision of an event where I would host millenial, gen-y and gen-x “kids” and their boomer parents, designed to heal the inter-generational divide that has been created as a result of our current financial paradigm.
These families would come together to envision a new future for their family for this and future generations, in which family resources and wealth are re-imagined and re-envisioned.
As a result of this re-imagining, these families would create their own short and long-term Family Wealth plans to move beyond the survival mentality we’ve been encultured into (that for the most part traps our resources where they are doing the least good and are often left to stagnate, decrease in value or even be lost entirely) to create a thrival reality for many generations to come.
Two days later, I was contacted by a production crew that wanted me to put together an event and a follow up 5-day “in the field” transformational experience for a select number of the attendees to seal in the teachings and integrate the learnings into the ancestry and future generation of each family that attends.
As soon as I received the invitation, I knew the resources I needed had shown up to make this event a reality. Truly, beyond my wildest dreams.
Today, we are on the precipice of signing the contract to see this event become a reality.
I have tears streaming down my face as I write this because I am both terrified and more enlivened than I have ever been. It truly is the culmination of it all. If you think you and your family (adult kids and/or parents) might want to attend something like this, please do be in touch or comment here and I’ll add you to the early invite list.
A cat peep shared this PhuckPhace promo. Rain is stoked and festival season will be epic! We love you, middle-aged DJ! Is a song about rainbows in your future? Perhaps to be played during your OMG! wedding at the Lakefront Assisted Living Facility?
Re: the lost mixtape of Michael “Pimp Lion” Jacobs, ONE SONG has finally dropped. Ali is so proud of her (former?) adopted son’s incredible accomplishment, which sounds far less accomplished than the hip-hop shit my neighbor’s 14-year-old son is churning out in their garage.
A couple of months ago, Michael Jacobs was ALMOST done with his whole mixtape, when the whole thing was lost from his computer.
I watched him struggle with what to do, want to give up and say forget it and I prayed that wouldn’t happen because the music I had been hearing him make for the months up to that point had shifted my own consciousness and I so wanted others to experience it.
Michael rallied, saw the gift in the loss and has kept going. Today, he releases the first track from the mixtape — the Invitation — for your listening pleasure. I hope you love it as much as I do. Follow MAJiii to be notified of future releases.
Update: Fozzie has cleaned up his act, because it’s best to look at least semi-profeshunal when asking one’s parents for another handout.
As a kid, I built a defensive wall around my heart…
To “protect” me…
I was afraid what would happen if I let it all in.
Last night, I let it in. And that wall caved in.
And the pain fell in. The guilt. The sorrow. The stories.
They ket falling to the center of my heart.
Now, I’m off to San Diego to spend the weekend with my parents, open even more, and see how much deep the Hall of Mirrored Illusions goes…