September 2nd, 2010
Taking basic care of your health is one of those things that most people consider a necessity, and not just a luxury for the few.
Of course, nobody likes to spend a lot of time and money on their health. We’d all rather be healthy and feeling good all the time, without expending much effort.
But we also know what it feels like not to be in good health. And most of us are more than willing to take steps to avoid feeling that way.
When we feel under the weather, we recognize it immediately and usually we do something about it. We’ll see a doctor, take some medicine, start a new fitness regime – in most cases, we’ll seek some kind of remedy.
This is the way most people take care of their physical health. But what about their creative health?
Did you just inwardly roll your eyes? Did you hear a little voice say, “Creative projects are great and everything but come on, they’re just not as important as your physical health”?
I have one of those little voices too too, and if I’m not careful it places everything above my creativity. Working at the day job, meeting other people’s needs, taking out the trash, anything.
On my to-do list, any creative projects I have automatically sink to the very bottom. And unless I take notice, they tend to stay there.
And yet, for people who need to engage in their creative passions (and guess what: that’s most of us), creating art is an important part of staying mentally, spiritually and even physically healthy.
Just think about what happens – or what is happening – when you ignore your creative needs for 10 days or so. What happens to your personality? I for one get pretty irritable, or melodramatic, or resentful. Or worse. If you’ve experienced those things, you can see how the effects on your work and your relationships are going to be noticeable.
What’s happening is that there is an important part of you that’s not getting what it desperately needs. And if you don’t help it out, it may just slowly wither away. Or it could eat up your energy, day by day. Sometimes, it bides its time and then suddenly explodes in a destructive flood of bitter resentment.
Now think about what happens when you ignore your creative needs for a month, a year, even a decade at a time. It’s often a snowball effect: that withering feeling, that resentment, that crankiness just keep on growing exponentially. Yikes.
On the other hand, what happens when you’re engaging in the creative process on a regular basis? How do you interact with the people around you? What changes do you notice in your face, your posture, your gait, your appetite for everything? I’m willing to bet you can tell the difference.
Maybe it’s about time we took our creative health a bit more seriously. If you take a vitamin in the morning, or work out for 15 minutes, or opt for greens over french fries, chances are you can do something quick and easy for your creative health. Please do give it a try. Even one small choice can make a huge difference.
COMMENTS: Is there anything you already do, or would like to do, to stay creatively healthy?
Do you want some more ideas on this? Because you know I’ve got ‘em. 
August 30th, 2010
Folks, I’ve got some problems with reminders.
I’m not talking about reminders to buy milk or to call the dentist. After many, many years of disorganized forgetting and frantic last-minute scrambling, I think I’ve almost got the hang of the everyday tasks. Most of the time.
What I have trouble with is the Big Stuff. Things like the reason why I create, or what I really want to get done in this life. The kind of things that your procrastination demons are trying ever so hard to make you forget.
Whenever you read a book or an article about starting or maintaining a habit – in my case, a creative practice – you usually come across the same advice: use reminders. Find a way to remind yourself of your commitment, of your intentions, of your purpose for creating, of your higher goal, whatever.
I’ve tried lots of different methods. I have my email service send me automatic emails every day. They are routinely ignored. They pile up in my inbox and now I quite literally have 1,168 unread emails, most of which are telling me about my higher purpose or something.
I set my computer calendar to give me annoying pop-up reminders. Ding! The damn thing goes off at least once an hour. I postpone, dismiss, postpone. The messages might be entering into my subconscious somehow. Or the message my brain is receiving might just be “Jeez, this stupid reminder thing is annoying.”
I tried putting a note in my wardrobe, near the door. I decorated it with crayon, I believe. I don’t think I ever saw it.
I’ve put stickers and notes on my laptop and they usually get ripped off with great annoyance by Day 2.
I use an online mindfulness bell, when I remember do turn it on (doh!). It rings at random intervals, which is great. But when it goes off, all I can remember to do is correct my posture. Which I suppose is good, but what about all of the other stuff I have to remember?
My latest attempt is above. It’s a list of five words that I want to focus on with my current art project. I’ve written it on masking tape – my preferred medium – and stuck it somewhat near the computer, on the top edge of my desk/workstation thingy, in the hopes that I’ll see it each morning.
Will it work? Huh! I doubt it.
I must confess: I’ve got some serious envy for people who “have an awareness practice.” I have no idea what that even means, but man, do I want one. Because I have a feeling that people who are practicing being aware of this kind of stuff all the time do not have masking-tape reminders stuck all over their work spaces. Plus I am pretty sure that their lives are significantly more awesome for it.
I guess I will just have to remind myself that I am working on this.
… Gah!
COMMENTS: How do you use reminders? Which ones have worked for you? Please share. Seriously.
August 24th, 2010
When you read this post, I’ll be on vacation. Somewhere far, far away, where Internet access is something of a miracle. And that’s the only reason I can make this confession.
Gulp. Here goes:
Resistance! I have it.
Some background. I’ve always thought of myself as a painter. I was either 10 or 11 when I stretched my first canvas, but even before then I knew that painting was what I had to do.
And I still know this. But I’m Not Doing It.
Until now, my usual reaction to this has been to ask myself “but whyyyy not?” in a whiny voice (well, whiny in my head). Why am I not doing it? Why is it so hard? What’s wrong with me, or what is keeping me from doing this?
I will come up with a million reasons, chief among them “lack of space.” While this may be true, a tiny and incredibly annoying voice inside me asks, “Are you sure that’s the reason?” And I kind of want to smack it.
Obviously, this strategy of asking “whyyyy?” has not worked very well at all.
But in the past year or so I’ve come into contact with a bunch of smart people. And they’ve given me ideas and suggestions on how to deal with this not-doing. I’ve taken a lot of them to heart. For example, this blog wouldn’t be here without the help of those people (hey guys, thanks!).
And yet… the painting, it is not happening.
I’ve been working on a genius plan, though. So when I am back and duly refreshed from my wanderings, I am going to start a new experiment to play with this resistance.
And I’ve been thinking that maybe some of you might have a similar problem. We could do this little experiment together.
I’ll reveal the details soon. In the meantime, I’ll give you one hopefully reassuring hint: this experiment will not require any big lifestyle changes. At all. In fact, it all sounds absurdly easy.
It’s based on a pretty radical idea, but it does not require radical changes. Because those just lead to more resistance.
Huh, I should know.
For now, all I’d like to know is: are you resisting some particular kind of creative expression? What is it?
COMMENTS: Which – if any – of your creative projects are you resisting?
Not everyone is keen on coming out about their creative resistance on the Internets. So if you don’t want to share, that’s perfectly understandable. But I’ll post more info on my experiment soon, and you are absolutely invited to join me, in any way you please.
August 15th, 2010
While experimenting with my gatherings, and even in comments on this blog, I often get asked, “Does this count as creative?”
My usual answer is something along the lines of “Hey, why not?”, just for the sake of brevity. But here’s my long answer, in case this is something you’ve been pondering too.
I’m not particularly interested in making distinctions between “Real Art” and “craft” and all of the other labels that have been placed on various kinds of creative expression.
But I do think there’s something very different going on internally when I’m painting as opposed to, say, baking a cake. Both of which I consider creative activities. But for me, painting is much more personal and expressive. It can be pretty intense, actually (which may lead to resistance, whereas I have no resistance to cakes).
Baking a cake is fun and you can certainly get very creative with it. But when you bring out a freshly made cake, it’s not exactly like you’re baring your soul to the world.
It seems like a lot of people have the same idea, more or less. And so they ask whether things like baking can really be considered creative.
My answer to that is: who cares?
Oh, not who cares about your question, my dear – it’s an excellent question, really – but who cares whether or not it’s technically considered “creative”?
The last time I checked, there was no Ministry of Creativity (although that would be pretty cool, wouldn’t it) passing laws about what counts and what doesn’t.
If the thing you’re about to do is something you’re passionate about, just do it. It doesn’t really matter whether it’s composing a sonata or knitting a sock. Does time seem to fly by when you’re doing it? Are you only awakened from your creative reverie by the sound of your grumbling stomach, or the phone ringing (“Um, hi, are you still alive? OK, just checking.”)?
Yes?
I think that’s all the answer you need then.
Labeling things as creative or less creative is kind of a waste of time. I advise just doing them.
(On the other hand, check out the picture of the cake layers I baked not too long ago. You have to admit the use of the cheese grater is pretty damn creative. Speaking of which, donations of wire baking racks to Artful Play are always welcome. Contact me for my postal address.)
COMMENTS: What’s your definition of “creative”? How many things that you’re doing these days fall under your own definition of what’s creative?
Or have you never even thought about this, because you’ve just been busy doing your things? If so: nice! And please feel free to share what you’ve been working on.
August 10th, 2010
(Disclaimer: Maybe it’s the time of year, but I’m feeling a bit ramble-y these days. You’ve been warned!)
…
It’s August. And August, around here, is synonymous with vacation.
For some people, August began back in June. This is the case of one of my students, who is 18. As soon as school was out, he was at his family’s home at the beach. “We’ll talk in September,” he always says to me, and that’s got to be one of the most frequent phrases you’ll hear this time of year.
And for other people, August begins in July. Specifically, Fridays in July.
I don’t tend to notice it starting, because I’ve always worked on Saturdays. But if I happen to go out on Friday around noontime, I can feel this sort of crackling energy in the air. People all around me have harried looks on their faces and seem to be in a great hurry. Cars are zooming by a little faster than usual. I start to hear the tell-tale sound of car trunks (or boots!) opening and slamming shut.
Ah, that’s right. It’s Friday.
On Friday afternoons and evenings, one must avoid the supermarket at all costs. This is where the heat and the hurry go to people’s heads. What may have ordinarily been a quick exchange of words about one’s place in the checkout line suddenly escalates to a fierce battle. There is yelling. There is exaggerated complaining about completely unrelated matters. You may hear an epithet or two, an appeal to various holy figures.
I choose to stay home and make do with what’s in the fridge.
Then, on Saturday, when going out for a walk I encounter an empty city, a ghost town. Dust, heat, oppressively humid air, deafening cicadas. Shops start closing early, or close for the whole weekend. Those shopkeepers who must stay open peer out forlornly from their shop windows.
I observe all of these goings-on from my darkened apartment, while sipping on a cold beer and eating unhealthy quantities of watermelon.
Some evenings I’ll go out for a drive with my friend and we’ll find, to our delight, that there are parking spaces everywhere. It feels like the city is all ours. We are inspired to sing gleeful songs and fantasize about it being like this all year round.
By Saturday night, all of my neighbors’ windows are closed and locked, the shutters drawn. “Hey! Is there anybody in the building?” I call out on the balcony, purely to embarrass my friend. Nobody answers, of course. And to think it’s not even August yet.
On Sunday, the few who had to work late on Saturday take off for the day. The silence deepens.
And then August arrives. All I have to say about that is the art supply shops close for the entire month.
I admit, vacation is all I can think about right now. But not because I can’t wait to join the millions of people sizzling away on the crowded beaches (dear God no). I’m just excited about the traveling, and the new scenery.
In a couple of days, I’ll be changing latitudes, from 43° to 41°. It may not seem like that much. But I swear that you can feel them as you travel southward. The landscape changes, the names change, the accents change.* The pace slows down considerably.
And then something else happens. I start getting all these ideas.
Lately I’ve been wondering: what is it about travel and inspiration? Is it the physical movement? Is it that strange phenomenon of leaving yourself behind as you close the door to your home? Something about brain synapses being rearranged? Or is it something simpler, something having to do with seeing new and unusual colors, or with breathing different air?
Eh, who knows? I suppose all that matters is that you remember to pack a notebook.
*If you are a dialect geek like me and want to travel through Italy by dialects you can watch this silly video. And you’ll also get a taste of what’s going on in the supermarkets here these days.
COMMENTS: Am I crazy for thinking you can feel changes in latitude? OK, I suppose I am. But have you ever noticed that more ideas come to you when traveling?
Do you ever use travel as a way to access new ideas and inspiration?
August 5th, 2010
You may have been highly distressed by the fact that possibly noticed that a couple weeks have passed since my last post. Oh yes, friends, I’ve been up to stuff.
I wish I could say that I was busy doing wild and crazy creative things the entire time. Or at least say that I was vacationing in some exotic locale. Alas, neither of these would be true. Most of the time was spent doing boring things like dayjobbish work and paying the rent and fixing my broken website (See: Not-So-Exciting, above).
On the other hand, in keeping with my veggies-in-the-casserole approach, I have in fact been working on some fun things in between all the boring stuff. And I am hoping to be able to share them with you all in September. For now, here’s a quick peek at the goings-on.
Thing #1
The first thing I have to report is that I’ve been working on my gatherings. So far they have only been by private invitation, and there have been very few of them (ha, I won’t even say how many! Oh, the shame) but part of that has been due to wrestling with horrible Tech Demons native to this particular country. Yeah, I don’t even want to get into it.
But in the course of all this demon-wrestling, these gatherings are slowly changing shape. And I need to check with them first, but there’s a possibility they may be ready to meet the world in September. Aw, I’m so proud of them (sniff).
When they are ready, you will hear about it here. I’ll also put up a notice on the board (and you can sign up for updates to that, if you are so inclined).
Thing #2
This Thing is so tiny and brand-new that it doesn’t even have a name yet. But maybe I can describe it for you.
I had a friend of mine, Michelle, come over to my house to do some art. Michelle may in fact be an artist, but it’s not what she does on a day-to-day basis. And this means she doesn’t have a lot of art supplies hanging around. But hey, what do you know, I DO. So we made an appointment for a little art-date.
I should mention that Michelle is getting very, very close to giving birth to a baby whom we’ll call Peanut for now. And she was looking for a way to explore her pregnancy and the imminent birth experience through creative expression. Naturally, this sort of talk makes me jump up and down like a little girl, so I was all for having her over.
We kept it very simple: I provided the art supplies, the space, and the company, and perhaps a bit of support on occasion. She brought herself, some magazines, and some ideas.
At first, Michelle seemed a little intimidated by the blank page. Yep, been there, and I bet you have too. And in her case, she had chosen some pretty intense experiences to be exploring. But once she had allowed herself to make a few marks – no masterpieces, just some color – the rest came a lot easier.
One interesting thing that came out of this experience was how none of the ideas we had brought to the art-date ended up being the right idea. The drawing she made came pretty spontaneously, once she had played with the materials and chosen the one that appealed to her the most. We were both surprised by the results.
The whole time this was going on, I felt as if my presence was unnecessary, as if I wasn’t actually doing anything. But sometimes you just need another person and a dedicated time and space to create in. It can make a huge difference. Michelle was convinced that she wouldn’t have done this on her own. I believe her – I’ve got a little bit of experience in avoiding creative expression. Just a little.
So, that’s my news for now. And I’m sure there will be more developments in Artfulplayland this month. Any news from your neck of the woods?
COMMENTS: I’d love to hear any updates you have on your creative projects. And if you’ve been away from them, it’s OK. Really.
July 14th, 2010
This time last year, I was celebrating my 30th birthday. It was an eventful day, and not just because I had officially entered my 30s. There was a hilarious victory, a hilarious defeat, and a delicious meal. In that order. Oh yes, and I should mention that I was in an unnamed Sicilian town with two girlfriends, because the setting is important. Being able to take a cheapo flight to Sicily is one of the best things about living where I do.
The hilarious victory
The day before my birthday, we had left our car (a rental) in a parking lot that seemed completely legitimate at the time, given the hundreds of cars parked in it. We spent the day on one of the Aeolian Islands, hoping to encounter the god of the winds (it was pretty hot). Instead we encountered Alessandro the insistent yet friendly taxi driver, but that was good enough. When we returned, we found to our dismay that we had been given a parking ticket. But this was no ordinary parking ticket. At the top of the page was a grand seal. The ticket was from the Ministry of Infrastructures and Transport. We were in trouble with the Italian State. Apparently we had parked on State territory and let’s just say that the fine reflected the gravity of our crime.
The last thing I wanted to do on my birthday was spend the morning sorting out a parking ticket and paying more money than we had budgeted for. But since there was no indication on the ticket of what to do next, no number to call, no office to visit, we were at a loss. That evening we tried not to think about it. The next morning, hearts heavy, we went to the tourist information office to ask for some guidance.
The woman in the tourist office had a lovely Sicilian accent and I was immediately enchanted. I handed her the fine and explained our plight. She read it over, perplexed, and then picked up the phone. “I’ll figure this out,” she reassured us. My friends and I exchanged amused glances at the fact that she knew exactly whom to call.
When she had put down the phone, she told us that we had to go visit the Italian Coast Guard office near the parking lot that was the scene of the crime, as they were the ones behind the fine. “But listen,” she said sotto voce, leaning forward with a conspiratorial air, “I’ve told them you’re three innocent foreigners who speak no Italian. When you get there, act like you have no idea what’s going on. If they insist you pay the fine, pretend you have to go get the money from a cash machine. Be sure to look distraught. I’m sure they’ll let you off the hook.”
I was a little nervous about confronting the Coast Guard officers and pretending that I spoke no Italian but I wanted to have faith in our accomplice’s advice. I had a feeling that this was a woman who knew how to work the system to her advantage. It was worth a try.
It was a long walk to the headquarters and it gave us plenty of time to rehearse our best looks of utter confusion. Finally we arrived, took a deep breath, and walked in, looking as distraught as possible.
Our arrival seemed to cause quite a stir. We were told to go into a specific office (how cruel we were, forcing everyone to attempt to use their very rusty English) and once there, we walked in on some officers sitting around, apparently doing nothing. I couldn’t blame them, given the heat and the obvious lack of any real work to be done. Everyone turned and stared at us. There was awkward silence. “Who are these distraught foreigners?” they must have been wondering.
Seated at the desk was the officer in charge. Now, this is an important point to make: this officer was hot. I won’t get into the details, but I will say that he was a very fit, very tan Sicilian man in a crisp white uniform. I was nervous. “Hello,” I said meekly. “Um, we received this.” I thrust the fine in his face.
The Incredibly Hot Officer took my fine and read it over. I could hear the wheels turning in his head: “O cavolo, how do you say car park again?” was written all over his face. He mustered up the courage to produce his few words of English. “You park the car here… ehm…. yesterday?”
“Yes, yes!” I may have been a little too enthusiastic. “We left our car here yesterday morning. And we found the fine yesterday evening.”
“Ah!” he replied. A pause. “You go to the Isole Eolie?”
“The Isol… what? Oh, the islands? Yes, we took the ferry to the islands. Yesterday.” (I am evil.)
“Mm-hmm.” He pondered this for a while. We were sweating. I’m guessing that it made us look more the part.
Several seconds passed. We could feel the other officers burning holes into our backs.
Then Captain Hotness made a little wave of his hand. “Is no problem.” And he put the fine away.
It wasn’t difficult to pretend I was stunned. “Really? It’s OK?” I asked, incredulous.
“Is OK,” he repeated and he may have even smiled.
After numerous, exaggerated thank-yous and excited smiling we left the scene. And yes, once we were sufficiently out of earshot we laughed all the way back up to town.
So that’s what happened a year ago today. I could tell you about the hilarious defeat and the delicious meal, but this post is getting too long, isn’t it? Maybe next year, OK? 
COMMENTS: Today I just wanted to tell a story, really. I suppose it counts as part of my creative practice. Although if it weren’t for the Incredibly Hot Officer I wouldn’t have had a story to tell! So thanks, IHO.
And you? What were you doing a year ago today? Got a better story than mine?
July 12th, 2010
I wish I could say that I’ve been hard at work on my current Art Project of Excitement. Truth be told, all I can really say is that it’s been progressing, slowly. At least my mind has been hard at work on it.
On the other hand, it has been between 93 and 100 degrees here for the past week. Getting up to drink a glass of water is hard work. So honestly, these days we’ve all been hard at work at trying not to melt.
Some things did get done, of course. This particular project calls for some planning stages, some sketching and drawing, and then some more drawing, and some more. Today I got started on the second phase which involves sharp instruments. Yikes!
Sharp instruments aside, it’s been a real delight to work in this particular medium because it reminds me of some projects I did at the Conventino. And while I’m in the boring stages of the project I might post an image of something I did back then, a project I’m particularly attached to.
In the meantime, here’s a sneak peek of what’s been going on in my kitchen. Note empty glass of water (ehh, too much effort to refill)
I’ve photographed it with an intentional glare so you can’t yet tell what it is I’m making. Oooh, the suspense!
That’s about all I’ve got going on here. Now please excuse me while I go throw a bucketful of water on my head. Again.
COMMENTS: How about you? Any interesting projects you’d like to share? Throwing a bucketful of water on your head counts as an interesting project these days. Seriously.
July 7th, 2010
Oh, my sweet blog, how I have missed you. Yes, of course I should let you know when I’m going to disappear for a few days, but alas, I never know when the desire to disappear is going to strike. Such is the way of us annoying creative types. Next time I’ll try to be more considerate.
But I’m here now, dear blog, with a mini update from Artfulplayland. And we have past and present projects to report!
The past project should technically go under the category of creative procrastination. A friend of mine had emailed me with a request: would I be willing to take care of the invitations for our friend’s baby shower?
Now, I am not a baby shower person. OK, I’ve never even been to one. To be honest, I really never thought I’d ever have to deal with such things. And yet here we are, adults and everything, having baby showers. My God!
So I was a little appalled, I must admit. But then my friend threw in the magic words: “Maybe you could illustrate them by hand? If it’s not too much to ask of course.”
Ha ha ha! Too much to ask? My creative procrastinator genie loves that kind of stuff.
So we spent the better part of Saturday afternoon with blank cards and crayons. That’s right, people: I made invitations for a baby shower. The creative procrastinator genie is open to anything really – as long as there are crayons involved. Here’s a picture of creative procrastination in progress:
… And we also have a present project. As in, a project happening in the present, not a project for making presents. Although that could happen too.
But this project has to remain a bit of a secret for now, because it’s in such an early stage. I thought I might post some updates as the project grows.
In the meantime, I’ll give you some clues to the nature of this project. It’s an art thing, of course. And I have come to an agreement with my monsters: I am allowed to work on an art project as long as I treat it like a game. With a spirit of playfulness. No serious art, no Grand Masterpieces to be hung above a mantel. Just drawing, color and play.
So, more on that coming soon! Muses permitting.
COMMENTS: Do you have any updates on your own creative projects? I’d love to hear about them.
Would you like to join me in a project based on playfulness, with no Great Art allowed? Because you are more than welcome to come play here on the blog.
June 28th, 2010
I took another break from blogging this past week in order to deal with some more fun bureaucratic tomfoolery. Because around here, taxes don’t take a day, but a week to file. Or two.
And this brings me to my story. Or stories, I should say.
Here, a lot of your filing and enthusiastic stamping is done in a post office. It’s your one stop for all bureaucratic madness. Well, most of it.
This week I had to go twice. And at some point between the first and the second time, something interesting happened.
The first time I went, I had a story in my head. It went a little like this:
Oh no, I have to go to the post office again. And when I’m having such a bad day. There will be a ton of people waiting. There will be old ladies asking questions about everything and I’ll lose my patience. When my number’s called I’ll get some rude, incompetent clerk who doesn’t know how to help me. Or they’ll give me some really bad news about my situation, like I have to pay a fine or something. Or I’ll get in a fight with them. Oh, it’s going to suck. I wish I didn’t have to go.
And guess what? I was pretty much right.
I waited for ages. I got a clerk who was incompetent and didn’t know how to help me. She also wasn’t willing to get the information I needed, which was on her computer. She ended up handing me a form which I couldn’t fill in because I was missing some codes, conveniently sitting at home. My problem went unsolved. I went home and cried.
The next day I had to go again, obviously, and sort it all out with my handy codes. But this time I did something different: I wrote a new story, and posted it on a forum.
I’m not sure why I did this. I guess I was making fun of myself and my situation. Here’s how it went:
Man, we are sooo lucky that we get to go to the post office – on a Saturday! – and do some more bureaucratic $^%# today. Here’s how it’s going to happen.
We’re gonna stroll in there with our tax forms and get a number. People waiting their turn will be all, “Hey dude, weren’t you here yesterday? How’s it goin’?” They may want to hi-five us. And then a bunch of them will leave so we don’t have to wait for more than 20 minutes.
The teller will be totally chill and respectful. He or she will explain what the hell went wrong, and apologize. And then we’ll just hand over our forms, which of course will all be totally fine, and then after a moment he/she will pause and say, “You know what? We feel really awful about this mixup, just thinking about the stress and inconvenience we’ve caused you. So how about this: for 2009, your taxes are on us. What do you say, are we even?” And, you know, we’ll ponder it for a moment and then decide to be gracious. “Yeah, alright then, no hard feelings,” we’ll say, and there will be moving music on the overhead. People around us will burst into enthusiastic applause.
Oh yes, today’s trip to the post office will be awesome. Are you ready? Let’s go!
OK, don’t worry: I am not going to tell you that this is what actually happened, and that all we have to do is think positively and everything will turn out for the best. Because eew. And that’s not the kinda girl I am.
But I will tell you that I waltzed into the post office with a little smirk on my face. As I waited, my number in hand, I composed that moving score in my mind and imagined my fellow post office-goers offering me high fives. And as strange as it may seem, I ended up getting another clerk this time, even though Miss Incompetent was also working that shift. And this new guy helped me figure out what went wrong. I got everything sorted out in about ten minutes. I was suddenly a lot poorer, but it was DONE.
I went home and I did not burst into tears. I came back to find a few readers of my thread enthusiastic about my story and wishing they had one for other dreadful errands they had to run.
So here’s the moral of this fine story: figure out what story you’re carrying around and rewrite it. Make it incredibly silly and totally improbable. It surely won’t happen they way you’ve written it, but at least you’ll have something to giggle about as you’re going in for that checkup at the dentist’s.
Oh, and you’ll also have done something creative for the day. Hooray!
COMMENTS: Have you ever tried this? Has it worked for you?
What’s the thing you’re dreading right now and could use an alternate story for? I will totally write you one!
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Well hello there!
This site is a record of my (almost) daily creativity practice.
It's mainly silly drawings with commentary. Or silly writings, with a chance of illustrations.
If you're new here, you might want to start at my about page (it's up there, on the left).
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