The Starbucks Project
In my efforts to write a book, I have decided to do a little field work in the way of character development; The Starbucks Project.
This is a blend of delicious beverages, comfortable seating in public spaces and my keen ability to eavesdrop like a jealous roommate and observe people from afar, making conclusions about their life based on knowing absolutely nothing of them beyond their current outfit and drink of choice, all while going unnoticed from behind my little notebook. Yes, I am creepy. Yes, I am exploiting my stalker talents for my own creative advances. Yes, it could be you, Miss Grande Non-Fat Milk Skinny Caramel Macchiato, that I'm writing about next!
As often as possible, I will visit a new Starbucks location and sit there with my little book, seek someone out with my naughty little eyes, and slander them with my presumptions about their life!
The trick will be to visit a different Starbucks each time for a change of scenery and also to broaden the scope and variety of patrons I can scheme over.
I have already written a few and I will post them in due time. Some of them are rubbish and go nowhere. Others inspire a whole series of stories. You've got to make a whole lot of rough copies before you get to something great though, right? Even some of the ones I've discarded may come back into my head with new revelations. Either way, used or discarded, it's all good practice. AND I get to creep people all day without guilt!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Fail
Well, my post TV drain day turned out just lovely. Funny what a little self-loathing (read: motivation) can do!
Now, time for a little Martha Stewart fun. Although, had I actually looked up how to do this by Martha Stewart, I probably wouldn't have spent 3 hours fixing my mistakes and throwing things at walls (read: learning creative development through overcoming obstacles).
I present to you, the very amateur and hardly worth mentioning...
10-Step Display Board Creationism!
Friday, March 25, 2011
TVDV
You know, I can reflect and meditate and write about false idols all I want... at the end of the day I'm still gonna compare myself to others. It's a sick, sick addiction. Everyone does it, so it's cool, right? It's okay? No one's going to send me to rehab because everyone's on the same drug.
I've decided today, as I have on many other days before, that TV is the DEVIL. Not to exclude all other mass produced media because those are just as deadly but the Tev Dev is the worst. You get sucked in, you think "okay, I'm just gonna relax a for a few ticks" and then you watch and watch, things that don't even interest you, but they're on... then 3 hours later you're watching Born To Be: Kesha and comparing her success to talent ratio versus your own and slowly spiraling into despair. Why did I wake up three hours ago with big creative plans for the day and am only getting up now, slothy and unmotivated to proceed with said creativities?
Due to this totally unheard of revelation, I am sentencing myself to be extra productive today. Like, super extra. I do know that I'm better than that, and I do know that I'm capable, so I do understand that there's no reason to sit and watch the picture screen while my aspirations and self confidence sizzle into nothingness. No more TeeVeeDeeVees and no more slacking and no more "if only I..." wishes.
And by this I do solemnly swear.
Check back for updates!
I've decided today, as I have on many other days before, that TV is the DEVIL. Not to exclude all other mass produced media because those are just as deadly but the Tev Dev is the worst. You get sucked in, you think "okay, I'm just gonna relax a for a few ticks" and then you watch and watch, things that don't even interest you, but they're on... then 3 hours later you're watching Born To Be: Kesha and comparing her success to talent ratio versus your own and slowly spiraling into despair. Why did I wake up three hours ago with big creative plans for the day and am only getting up now, slothy and unmotivated to proceed with said creativities?
Due to this totally unheard of revelation, I am sentencing myself to be extra productive today. Like, super extra. I do know that I'm better than that, and I do know that I'm capable, so I do understand that there's no reason to sit and watch the picture screen while my aspirations and self confidence sizzle into nothingness. No more TeeVeeDeeVees and no more slacking and no more "if only I..." wishes.
And by this I do solemnly swear.
Check back for updates!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Choice
Don't get me wrong, I'm so very lucky and grateful for all the choices and freedom our generation has...
But maaaaaaan, F%@# choices! This is the very root of so many of our problems. We just don't know what to do with ourselves because there's so much opportunity all around us!
I can spend 40hrs a week dedicating my heart, head and soul to a particular thing and know that, if I continue with such dedication, I will most like be successful at it. But after a couple weeks, I look to my right, and BAM! there's something else incredibly alluring that I could also be successful at.
No! I say, you will not sway me from my goal, I'm dedicated! I continue another couple weeks on my original project. All the while Mr. Alluring Side Project is hanging around, invading my personal space - so rude! I begin to question my choices, wondering if I'm really happy with this goal, and if I will really feel successful at it, as much so as I would if I took on that other sneaky little idea. Then I spend another two weeks, 40hrs a week, worrying about my choices like it's my job; toiling over my own brain, through my heart, to find a sign. A couple weeks of that and then I'm just a big ol' grumpy pants, mad at myself for wasting so much time thinking and not any time doing anything...
Are you with me?
If we lived 50 years ago, yes we would have been through harder times and missed out on all this spoiling we get. I'd probably be a housewife with 6 kids, going crazy with boredom and lack of self expression, feeling pent up and taking it out on a bottle of vodka that I keep hidden under the kitchen sink where I know my husband will never look. After a few years of internalized stress, it would start to seep out and heads would turn in the hair salon as I complained about how horrible it is to have a lovely husband who provides for me. Word would get out that I was letting my thoughts out of my little red-painted lips and I would be sent to a shrink who would tell me that my parents probably abused me as a child and I'm just crying for attention. But you know... at least I wouldn't have to make decisions for myself.
But maaaaaaan, F%@# choices! This is the very root of so many of our problems. We just don't know what to do with ourselves because there's so much opportunity all around us!
I can spend 40hrs a week dedicating my heart, head and soul to a particular thing and know that, if I continue with such dedication, I will most like be successful at it. But after a couple weeks, I look to my right, and BAM! there's something else incredibly alluring that I could also be successful at.
No! I say, you will not sway me from my goal, I'm dedicated! I continue another couple weeks on my original project. All the while Mr. Alluring Side Project is hanging around, invading my personal space - so rude! I begin to question my choices, wondering if I'm really happy with this goal, and if I will really feel successful at it, as much so as I would if I took on that other sneaky little idea. Then I spend another two weeks, 40hrs a week, worrying about my choices like it's my job; toiling over my own brain, through my heart, to find a sign. A couple weeks of that and then I'm just a big ol' grumpy pants, mad at myself for wasting so much time thinking and not any time doing anything...
Are you with me?
If we lived 50 years ago, yes we would have been through harder times and missed out on all this spoiling we get. I'd probably be a housewife with 6 kids, going crazy with boredom and lack of self expression, feeling pent up and taking it out on a bottle of vodka that I keep hidden under the kitchen sink where I know my husband will never look. After a few years of internalized stress, it would start to seep out and heads would turn in the hair salon as I complained about how horrible it is to have a lovely husband who provides for me. Word would get out that I was letting my thoughts out of my little red-painted lips and I would be sent to a shrink who would tell me that my parents probably abused me as a child and I'm just crying for attention. But you know... at least I wouldn't have to make decisions for myself.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Alone
This is a lovely video I had saved a long time ago.
I forgot about it, and found it again today... what a nice surprise!
I forgot about it, and found it again today... what a nice surprise!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Book
That's it - I'm writing a book.
I've decided.
It's another one of those things that I keep in my head, swirling around and around, developing slowly, secretly and silently. I should know by now that SHARING ideas BREEDS ideas. Silly rabbit. I've decided that this hesitation to share my ideas is a fear of letting them out before they're fully formed. I've done this my whole life. I come up with something and I tuck it away, hoping to grow it in to something so worth sharing that all its recipients will be motionless with awe over my radiating brilliance. But I've realized two things over recent months of mind and soul exploration. One; people are just as impressed with your processes and ongoing, adventurous, soap opera-like pursuits as they are with any single stationary moment of completion. Two; the more you talk about it, the more it grows and becomes real.
I currently subscribe to the opinion that things in my head aren't real. They're just things in my head. In a day or two they'll move on out of an ear or an eye socket and be ideas of the past, forgotten. That, or they'll linger and haunt me with their lack of development. Once they come out of my tightly sealed lips, they are a thing in the WORLD. Other people know about it. They may even think about it again once you've gone. If they keep thinking about it, and bring it up again, you know it's good. Plus inspiration, when shared, can both inspire someone else and re-inspire you.
My favorite time for inspiration to hit me is when I'm at home, cozied up in my big woolly slippers with a cup of tea, my computer opened to a writing program and nothing but time on my side.
Unfortunately, inspiration has other plans for me. I always get hit when I'm at the gym sweating like a horse or in the shower, equally saturated, or in a busy public space with no pen or place to sit and think. I guess it's in those times that my mind has the freedom to go anywhere because I'm not focusing on some specific project or needing to carry on a conversation and appear to be involved.
So after all that, what is my book about?
I'm not telling.
I've decided.
It's another one of those things that I keep in my head, swirling around and around, developing slowly, secretly and silently. I should know by now that SHARING ideas BREEDS ideas. Silly rabbit. I've decided that this hesitation to share my ideas is a fear of letting them out before they're fully formed. I've done this my whole life. I come up with something and I tuck it away, hoping to grow it in to something so worth sharing that all its recipients will be motionless with awe over my radiating brilliance. But I've realized two things over recent months of mind and soul exploration. One; people are just as impressed with your processes and ongoing, adventurous, soap opera-like pursuits as they are with any single stationary moment of completion. Two; the more you talk about it, the more it grows and becomes real.
I currently subscribe to the opinion that things in my head aren't real. They're just things in my head. In a day or two they'll move on out of an ear or an eye socket and be ideas of the past, forgotten. That, or they'll linger and haunt me with their lack of development. Once they come out of my tightly sealed lips, they are a thing in the WORLD. Other people know about it. They may even think about it again once you've gone. If they keep thinking about it, and bring it up again, you know it's good. Plus inspiration, when shared, can both inspire someone else and re-inspire you.
My favorite time for inspiration to hit me is when I'm at home, cozied up in my big woolly slippers with a cup of tea, my computer opened to a writing program and nothing but time on my side.
Unfortunately, inspiration has other plans for me. I always get hit when I'm at the gym sweating like a horse or in the shower, equally saturated, or in a busy public space with no pen or place to sit and think. I guess it's in those times that my mind has the freedom to go anywhere because I'm not focusing on some specific project or needing to carry on a conversation and appear to be involved.
So after all that, what is my book about?
I'm not telling.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Mile
I've hit a milestone.
I've miles and miles and miles yet to go.
Over the past year of exploration (myself, my friends and the world), I've come to terms with the possibility that there IS a place for my creative space in the world. I've now finally convinced myself that is both possible and probably that with inspiration and hard work, anyone can make a decent go with their art.
I know this is a simple concept and that hundreds of thousands of people already know this but the feat is in believing it myself. Denial denial denial.
Okay, so I'm secure in the thought that I can be successful with my art. That obstacle has been crossed.
Now I just have to figure out WHAT my art is...
I've miles and miles and miles yet to go.
Over the past year of exploration (myself, my friends and the world), I've come to terms with the possibility that there IS a place for my creative space in the world. I've now finally convinced myself that is both possible and probably that with inspiration and hard work, anyone can make a decent go with their art.
I know this is a simple concept and that hundreds of thousands of people already know this but the feat is in believing it myself. Denial denial denial.
Okay, so I'm secure in the thought that I can be successful with my art. That obstacle has been crossed.
Now I just have to figure out WHAT my art is...
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Reality
I just want to share this with everyone...
It's an excerpt from this book, which I find quite amusing. And I agree completely.
"Here's the thing - Carrie Bradshaw is a fu-, i mean, a dang... liar. Seriously, she lives in a chichi part of town in a great apartment and has forty thousand dollars' worth of shoes. She's forever out having drinks with her friends and she's not the kind of girl who goes to Dollar Beer Night at a seedy sports bar. She's all 'top shelf or don't bother, please.' Plus, every time a trendy restaurant opens? She's there, and you know they're the twenty-five-dollars-and-that's-just-a-dollop-of-goat-cheese-appetizer kind of places. She doesn't cook and buys all her meals out. She keeps sweaters in her oven, you know... She's a writer. And she has/does all this cool stuff and she's not drowning in credit card debt, nor does she, you know, shake it on the side for extra cash... Although really their lives make me a little crazy. You'd think sometimes they'd just want to stay in and eat Rasinettes and watch old episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 while tucked under a fluffy down comforter...The point is Carrie Bradshaw set highly unrealistic expectations."
And I, for one, can not be expected to live by them without going mental! (See previous post)
Time to start separating fantasy from reality and getting being our own role models!
It's an excerpt from this book, which I find quite amusing. And I agree completely.
"Here's the thing - Carrie Bradshaw is a fu-, i mean, a dang... liar. Seriously, she lives in a chichi part of town in a great apartment and has forty thousand dollars' worth of shoes. She's forever out having drinks with her friends and she's not the kind of girl who goes to Dollar Beer Night at a seedy sports bar. She's all 'top shelf or don't bother, please.' Plus, every time a trendy restaurant opens? She's there, and you know they're the twenty-five-dollars-and-that's-just-a-dollop-of-goat-cheese-appetizer kind of places. She doesn't cook and buys all her meals out. She keeps sweaters in her oven, you know... She's a writer. And she has/does all this cool stuff and she's not drowning in credit card debt, nor does she, you know, shake it on the side for extra cash... Although really their lives make me a little crazy. You'd think sometimes they'd just want to stay in and eat Rasinettes and watch old episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 while tucked under a fluffy down comforter...The point is Carrie Bradshaw set highly unrealistic expectations."
And I, for one, can not be expected to live by them without going mental! (See previous post)
Time to start separating fantasy from reality and getting being our own role models!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Pride
The American Dream is a fear of success. A fear that if you do not achieve the standard, you have failed. In a world where anything is possible and you can be whoever you want to be, rags to riches and bottom to top with all that hard work; you forever face the pursuit of coming up short.
Look around yourself, your friends, collegues, teachers, idols. You hold some up in high esteem and on their pedistle they stay, regardless of their flaws. We watch as those on top live, and base our choices on becoming them, when really they have looked to someone else all along.
To base yourself on someone else is a sure path to not being good enough.
To base yourself on something new is a direct line to not fitting in.
American Dreams are wonderful things, and everyone should have their own. But fresh new trails are assumed to be derailment from the norm and dreams, when based on others' pride, can only leave you stranded.
A path of your own, leaves you lost and when you find your way it's new. When there's nothing to which you compare yourself, there is only success in your own right. When no one can define you, you have achieved a dream of your own.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Paper
I'm not feeling very articulate so far this week, so I haven't much to say.
But I found some wonderful art!
These are paper sculptures by Peter Callessen
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