If I Look Like One, Maybe I’ll Be One.

by Leave a Comment

I have an addiction. An addiction to blogs. And not just any blogs. Design blogs. Fashion blogs. It’s a wonderful thing to be addicted to – I can preoccupy myself by reviewing others who dress better, design better, than myself. They have the money and the means to wear all the things I can’t and drape their house in fabrics and furniture and prints that I can only dream of. And the blogs themselves – gorgeous!
I have visions of making my own blog easier on the eye than what I have at this moment. My hope is that before the end of the year, I’ll have a custom design for my blog to introduce to you. A friend is working on it for me, and I can’t wait until that day when my writing finally has a space that visually reflects the same quality.
However, like any addiction, my design-blog obsession has distracted me from what I really want, which is to delve deeper into the world of self-published writing. I’ve found a plethora of writing blogs, but I hardly ever read them because the designs are often nothing less than detestable. I don’t care if you’re the greatest writer to come along since Shakespeare. If you’ve posted your words in lime green over a cerulean background, I won’t get past the title before I click over to something more appealing. (Is there something wrong with taking the basic templates and messing with the color? Live a little, people.)
And so, I have this fear: if my blog isn’t visually appealing, it’s not worth reading no matter how well I write. Which means that my real problem boils down to this thought:
Maybe if I look like a writer, I’ll become one.
I hinge my success on how I appear to others. I may write well for my blog, but to be a successful blogger, I need to grab your attention, right?
Understandable. Proven fact with world wide web analytics. “Content is king” doesn’t matter if no one can read it.
But I can’t allow that to be my excuse not to write, right? Waiting for a better blog design is not a good reason to refrain from posting.
Once again, I find myself peeling back the layers of unnecessary negativity in my life in order to see what’s really there. Underneath it all, I have something good going for me and I need to unearth it. I need to let it out. I need to write. I need to create. I need to share it with others.
Here are some posts that have propelled me forward in my hope for my writing:
Jess Constable at Makeunder My Life has a fresh batch of wisdom every day – I can’t get enough. Read her post about why managing your business is like high school (no cringing necessary!)
Jon Acuff has some interesting things to say about selling out. What is your definition of a sell out? How do you impose that on others, and how do you allow others to impose their opinions on you?
A bad review isn’t the end of the world, right?
I found this blog today – I need more poetry in my life. And maybe I should start posting photos from my idea journal… what do you think?
Tools for writers. Exactly what I need.

This Artistic Life.

by Leave a Comment

Two confessions:
1. I am a public radio addict. Morning Edition, Eight Forty-Eight, Fresh Air, All Things Considered, This American Life. Without cable and time, I have limited connections to what is going on in the world. Thanks to public radio, namely WBEZ and NPR, I’m at least tuned in. More than that, I find the sound of their voices comforting, their stories fascinating, and let’s not ignore the fact that it has rescued me from the utter dread that is pop music radio.
2. I have taste. I have a deep love for all things artistic and I consider myself an artist of words, images and food. But I often recognize as I write, paint, photograph or cook that while I know the difference between what’s good and what isn’t, I am just not up to par with others out there. It took me a long time to admit this, and while the thought is somewhat discouraging, it’s also inspiring. So the more I see of something that’s good, the more I aspire to become good… After all, art and excellence take practice.
Just ask Ira Glass, creator of This American Life.
I dedicate this video to impeccable taste, and to the day when our abilities finally live up to it…

Better Mistakes Tomorrow.

by Leave a Comment

This is my new philosophy:
proportional_1000_mike_monteiro_mistakes_800px_largeview
I am not perfect. Far from it, in fact, and it’s really been bothering me. I annoy myself, quite often.
It doesn’t help that I have this theory that writers, more than most people (except for maybe designers and politicians) are thrown over the coals for mistakes we make. Why? Because our mistakes are out there in black and white.
It’s rather crippling when you think about it. And I think about it a lot.
Like, for example, when I’m about to send a mass email to 2,000+ people, or share a Facebook status, or publish an article on a website, or post on my blog… the possibilities are frightening. I scan every word, phrase and punctuation mark to see if I’ve done it right.
… And then, let the palm-to-forehead moment commence!
Or not.
Either way, I’m terrified that I’ve screwed everything up.
This is my excuse for the notebooks full of ideas that have never been explored, the plethora of blog drafts that have never been published, the unwritten articles that float around in my head: It’s scary.
Trust me. I’m notorious as the picky, stuck-up writer that’s constantly correcting others’ spelling, grammar, punctuation and pronunciation flubs.
The truth is, I spend a lot of time worrying that someone else is judging me just as harshly. It happens! And when it does it stings, like a band aid has been ripped off and all my insides are exposed. My flaws, raw and real for everyone to see. A classic case of the pot vs. the kettle.
Jon’s first post on his new site reminded me today, though, that a plethora of unwritten articles, a notebook full of unexplored ideas and a blog full of unpublished drafts mean nothing. They don’t help anyone, least of all myself. Of course, as a writer I believe in avoiding posting the first draft of anything. But the real problem comes when I never post anything.
My old philosophy: if you can’t write it “right,” then don’t write it at all. But that’s not what this blog is about, nor is it an effective philosophy for a writer.
The true process is always the same:
1. Write.
2. Then right.
3. Repeat until you come to the best combination of fresh words and edits.
4. Publish.
5. Give gratitude (or apologize) when appropriate.
So, my new philosophy is about accepting my mistakes, swallowing my pride, and doing my best. And if I fail, at least I have a lesson to learn from.
Strive for excellence, not perfection. Perfection doesn’t exist. Perfection is that nasty, cynical voice in your head, criticizing everyone around you and at the same time, telling you:
“If you try it, you could fail and that’s worse than if you never did it at all.”
In truth, perfection is envious of the freedom and confidence that others exhibit when they accept themselves as they are.
Maybe that’s why God made me a writer: it continues to teach me about grace. Our flaws are part of who we are, but they’re not the only part. The flaws don’t outweigh the gifts, and the passion that we possess to fulfill our purpose in life.
So here’s to tomorrow, to better mistakes next time, and the grace to write about it anyway.

Ritual: Poetry

by Leave a Comment

I have this book, Good Poems, a collection from Garrison Keillor. He compiled a collection of more than 300 poems of every type and subject, written by the greats – Shakespeare, Donne, Yeats, Dickinson, Whitman, Frost, Hughes – and other lesser known poets.
I first discovered the book when I was a page at my local library. When I was bored during my shift, I’d sneak into the poetry section, grab this book and read it where the librarians couldn’t see me from the front desk.
I loved it so much that I bought it, and now, every once in awhile I pull it from my shelf, entwine myself in a blanket, and read and read and read. I never start at the beginning of the book and worked my way to the end, a phenomenon I only just realized the other day. I always find myself opening to a random page and reading it. Backwards. If I open to page 342, I work my way back through the book: 341, 340, 339… I have no idea why.
And I don’t read it silently, and I don’t read a poem only once. I often find myself reading it aloud, many times over. The second, third, or even fourth time takes me deeper and deeper into the poem until its rhythm becomes ingrained in me, like a tidal wave or the melody of a song, or the steady tick of a clock.
And when I reflect on each word – its meaning, its placement, the subsequent punctuation – I find a clue, a piece of the puzzle that reveals a little more about the writer’s thoughts and feelings, their stream of consciousness.
Somehow this ritual, the book between my hands, the blanket cloaked around me, the sound of my own voice stumbling over the rhythm like waves over rocks until I am finally immersed in it like a river tide, feels more right and real to me than prose does right now.
One of my favorites:
A Light Left On
by May Sarton
In the evening we came back
Into our yellow room,
For a moment taken aback
To find the light left on,
Falling on silent flowers,
Table, book, empty chair
While we had gone elsewhere,
Had been away for hours.
When we came home together,
We found the inside weather.
All of our love unended
The quiet light demanded,
And we gave, in a look
At yellow walls and open book.
The deepest worlds we share
And do not talk about
But have to have, was there,
And by that light found out.
What are your favorite poems or poetry sources? Do you have a hard time reading poetry? Do you have a method for reading it that helps you understand it better? Do you enjoy another artistic medium better – music, visual arts, prose? What inspires you?

30 for 30 Challenge, or How Not to Go Naked to Work.

by Leave a Comment

It should come as no surprise to any of you that I am a shopaholic.
If you haven’t met me, here are the obvious clues:
1. I’m 23 and I’m female.
2. I’m 23, I’m female and I was born in the 80′s. We are living in a material world and I am a material girl…
3. I’m 23, I’m female, I was born in the 80′s and I live in Chicagoland.
THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS AND THEY ARE EVERYWHERE.
But alas, this material girl has had a lot less material to work with in the last few years. I graduated college, got married and our fledgling money tree has a lot of growing to do. My credit card is maxed, my income is minimal, and my hubby and I are learning to live within our means.
So when I stumbled upon a few fashion bloggers in my ongoing quest for creative inspiration, my clothing obsession hit a whole new level. These girls looked so freakin’ cute, but I was sure I didn’t have the resources to pull that off.
I was wrong. I’ve recently become addicted to KendiEveryday, a blog that feeds my fashion addiction but also delivers an important message:
AFFORDABLE FASHION IS ATTAINABLE.
Don’t believe me? Check out Kendi’s 30 for 30 Challenge, which I am now participating in. The game goes like this: take 30 pieces from your closet, skirts, pants, dresses, jackets, shirts and shoes. Remixonly those pieces for 30 days into 30 different outfits. At the end, you’ll have a better idea of the staple pieces that your wardrobe might be lacking, and you’ll be less likely to impulse-purchase yet another flowy jersey-cotton top from Target’s clearance rack.
I know, it sounds a little nuts. Maybe it is. But here’s the reason why we think this concept is nuts, or at least, here’s the reason why I thought so:
If you’re like me, you’re the kind of girl that… approximately every 15 days or so goes to get dressed in the morning and stares into the closet thinking, “I might just go naked to work today.”
Because nothing fits. Nothing is bright and shiny and new in there. Nothing matches my mood. Nothing says cutting edge. Everything is old and dowdy and overworn.
Here comes trouble in the form of this one thought, “If only I could make a quick trip to Target or H&M…”
Enter Hubby [or sister, roommate, mom, or boyfriend]: “No way can you afford another shopping trip.”
And then one of two things happens, and neither are good.
1. I ignore hubby and buy something anyway, wear it repeatedly for two weeks, and then slide back into my fashion funk.
2. I abide by hubby’s wishes, wallow in my fashion funk and look like a slob for several days until I finally do all my laundry, find an item I forgot about because it was buried in a pile for 2 weeks, and begin putting effort into my appearance again.
How is this sustainable living? How is this learning to live within my means and be thankful for what I have? How is this using my creativity in all parts of my life? It’s not, it’s not, it’s not. We’re only in our 20s, friends. We’re going to be forever broke and miserable if we keep doing this to ourselves. [Sounds a little familiar… like I’ve heard it in the news recently or something, no?]
Fashion, personal style, is more than just the clothes you wear or the latest item you’ve purchased. It’s creativity, and it’s confidence in yourself. And it should be created through sustainable means.
I’m beginning to realize that this is how habits change – by challenging ourselves with our own creativity. Whether it’s words or clothes or food or design or dollars and cents, we can only realize our potential when we challenge it’s limits. It’s how we grow.
SO I’m joining the 30 for 30 challenge. I definitely won’t be able to post about it every day, or post cute pics of myself in my ensembles, but I’m doing it anyway. Want to join me? Head on over to Kendi’s and sign yourself up!