Archive for August, 2014

Bark

I am a dog barking in the nighttime.
There may have been a reason, once,
but I’ve long-since forgotten.
Now, all that matters is that burning
in my throat commanding, “Bark!”
It lets me know I’m here.
It says that I’m aware.
It shows I feel you out there
moving past the verge of darkness,
potent with the mystery of why I bark
yet free from it.

I would be with you if I could.
I would be you if I could.
But I am on this side of the light,
a dog barking in the nighttime.

Random quote of the day:

“We owe almost all our knowledge, not to those who have agreed, but to those who have differed.”

—Charles Caleb Colton, Lacon: Or, Many Things In Few Words

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Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

CHINESE EGGPLANT* IN AFRICA

 

 

I wasn’t even hungry. Especially for eggplant.

 

 

*Engagement

Random quote of the day:

“If a thing loves, it is infinite.”

—William Blake, Annotations to Swedenborg

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Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Random quote of the day:

“Some women become obsessed by the man they lose. The rarer kind become obsessed with their own stupidity in having had anything to do with the man they lose.”

—Nina Fitzpatrick, Daimons

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Random quote of the day:

“Hateful, the writer who talks about and exploits what he has never experienced. But be careful, a murderer is not the best man to talk of crime. (But isn’t he the best man to talk of his crime? Even that is not certain.) Essential to imagine a certain distance between creation and the deed. The true artist stands midway between what he imagines and what he does.”

—Albert Camus, The Notebooks, 1942-1951 (tr. Justin O’Brien)

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Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Random quote of the day:

“Let the coming generation attain happiness; but they surely ought to ask themselves, for what did their ancestors live and for what did they suffer.”

—Anton Chekhov, Note-book of Anton Chekhov, tr. S. S. Koteliansky and Leonard Woolf

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Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Random quote of the day: 

“Suffering breaks our world. Like a tree struck by lightning—splintered, shaken, denuded—our world is broken by suffering, and we will never be the same again. What will become of us is a mystery.”

—Nathan R. Kollar, Songs of Suffering  

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Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

IT WASN’T.

I can almost guarantee you that the person I was referring to doesn’t read this blog or my Twitterfeed.

That post wasn’t really about that person, anyway. It was about me not letting go of something that contributes to the clogging of my creative pipeline. That person wanted to put me in my place and I allowed her to do that. I’m trying to let that go so I can be liberated from that influence. I haven’t quite made it yet because, hey, I’m human, but I’m working on it.

That’s what that post was about.

If you are reading this, I love you and I am grateful for all the help you have given me. Okay?

I have only ever taken one critique of my writing personally, and that was largely because it was meant personally. The critiquer mostly wanted to put me in my place and take revenge for an honest review I did of her Very Precious Novel. I told her that her writing was lovely, the characters in her book were interesting people I liked hanging out with, but I thought she’d done some chickenshit stuff with the plotting. Although I used, yanno, polite language, phrased things as positively as I could, trying to be supportive.

In turn, she said my novel was such utter dreck that she couldn’t make it past chapter 3 and didn’t want to waste anymore of her Very Precious Time actually finishing. Except, yanno, in semi-polite language. Though not very polite. Rather dismissive, in fact. Really hard not to take that personally.

Her novel went on to be published, mine did not, but mine got some positive response from agents. The ending was too controversial and “anti-market” but send the next novel along, and etc. Life took over and I wasn’t able to do any of that.

I admit to some perverse gratification when my critiquer’s novel was reviewed in Locus. They called her on the selfsame chickenshit plotting I had. Although the reviewer used, yanno, polite language. Though not as polite as mine. And I’d be lying if I said I was anything less than perversely gratified when the novel didn’t sell well.

Mostly, however, I take criticism like a grown woman. I ask people to read and critique my work because I want honest opinions so I can make it better. And I stay away from the perverse gratification as much as possible because I really do believe that negativity breeds negativity. It’s not healthy for me as a person or an artist to nurse grudges. They’re rather like hoarding useless junk. Too much of it in any one life and you wind up being one of those people buried alive and suffocated to death when a pile of old smelly junk falls on top of you.

No, envy and salacious glee at another person’s fail tend to choke the creative process. That needs to be as free-flowing as possible and if the artist encumbers herself with negative emotions she’ll stop moving altogether. I see it even more clearly now that I have so little time to do creative work, so little Me Time. An artist needs to be able to take those precious moments and run with them whenever they occur, wherever they lead.

And that includes being grateful for the time others spend reviewing and giving honest critiques of my work. I’m grateful for 99.9% of the reviews I’ve gotten. As you can probably tell from the opening of this post, I haven’t entirely succeeded on letting go of that one unfair one. I still grit my teeth when I see that person’s name. Fortunately, I don’t see it much anymore unless I masochistically google it. And I hardly ever do that. Hardly.

I don’t have time for that. I don’t have time for hoarding old newspapers of envy, scrap tin of grudge, and empty boxes of perverse gratification. I need to let go, lighten my load, and liberate myself completely from the junk preventing me from moving freely.