First thing....my latest song obsession GHOST by Kylie Rothfield, produced by Ester Dean. Love Kylie Rothfield's tone, love the lyrics, love this song. It has so much ache and pain that I can't stop listening to it over and over again. You need to put the close captions on because the words are gorgeous. Before I even put it up on this blog, it was making me well up. So good!!
Gosh, it's been 6 month since I last wrote on this blog. Nothing much has been going on. Pandemic, protests, looting, fires, working from home...you know, same old, same old. Not!
This blog was always supposed to be about the creative work, my process and even a bit of whinging. However, my day job has basically hijacked my brain for the past year and a half. That's the very short answer to the very complicated question of, "where have you been hiding?"
I've been working and reading. That's a fair assessment of the past six months. I've been binge reading on books because I've been out of pace with my writing. I'd rather navel gaze than pick a pen up to write. My sister Ces is (right now) writing a story that she's so excited about that she's trying to finish it, so she can bring over a draft for me to read. Seriously?! Ugh, I have no excuses. * head hung low in proverbial shame *
My friend J gave me a couple of cheesy romance novels to read, very niche, very quirky...I won't even bother with the title but the writer in me was appalled at the simple story. The writer's inability to keep to the story arc. The climax of the story was 10 pages from the end of the book. Terrible! So disappointing and formulaic. I won't get back the couple of hours that this 200 page novel took from me. I'm sure you're asking, "well why didn't you just stop reading after the first 10 pages?" The quirkiness of the language kept me engaged and it had some funny literary references that made me laugh out loud. I admit it, I'm a literary geek and once I'm engaged in some way, I need to see it to the end.
I digress, my point is that reading this book reminds me I am quite capable of writing my own novel/play/story. Seriously!!! I can't stop saying that word...even in my own head.
Next week, I'm taking a couple of days off just to give myself a break from work. I am going to spend those three extra days painting my living room (FINALLY!!!) Can't wait. I love painting, it takes me out of my head and the task itself is almost meditative. I've already taken all the books and DVDs out of the bookshelf and piled them on my dining table. If I can tackle moving the furniture out of the way, then painting on my own won't be quite so overwhelming. I was going to reach out to a friend to see if she has time to help but I have a hard time asking for help. There is a part of me that thinks..."I can do this on my own" and only when I'm in my 6th hour of trying to paint edges will I kick myself for not having reached out to friends or family. Stubborn. Like Mule <said in a Russian accent> The other part is that it's a small space and once I move furniture, there won't be much room to navigate. Better to do it on my own so no one gets hurt. Ha!
The last bit that I wanted to share is that I tried out for a playwriting residency with a NYC theater. I received my rejection letter at the beginning of this month. What a bummer! My creative life has taken a dramatic turn AWAY from where I had hoped to have been with produced and published work. Does that last sentence even make sense? I've read it several times and I still don't know if it's grammatically correct. I'm losing my touch. Where is my Modern English Usage book? Oh, that's right at the bottom of a pile on my dining room table.
That's all I for today. I don't know if I'm going to keep this blog going but at least for today, just one more entry into the ether.
