I had to take a half a Xanax to write this post.
I’d gone out to breakfast with my housemate, co-conspirator, best friend, for the first time in months (and as I write this, I triple-check my reverse alphabetization of appellations and fuss over whether reversing it is ‘wrong’). We finally had enough extra money to do something that we both enjoy and find a necessary part of our creative processes. After we ordered, I opened with, “So I have to write a blog post for this thing…”, realized I hadn’t talked to her about #HoldOnToTheLight, and then did a piss-poor job of explaining, out of my increasing uncertainty that I had a good grasp on the cause or any business contributing to this event. Read On
SSA Clara and I were talking today about my writing. Specifically, why I’m not doing it. While I have a lot of pieces of the Pollocking puzzle, it’s not coming together. I’ve been vacillating between “BICFOK, Allie. Damn it,” and “But it’s not cookies yet.”
Most people would probably call my “not sitting down to write” either laziness or the dreaded WB (not Warner Brothers, people; the other one). Me, I’m reluctant to use that phrase. Like, I don’t even want to actually type it. (Okay, I have to, because my SEO check is coming up poor and it’s bugging me, but I’m going to close my eyes until I finish this paragraph, because I don’t even want to see the words writer’s block). Read On
A one word name refuses gender identity, marital status, socio-political or cultural and geographical identity by not separating the family name and the first name. – Kimsooja, Action 1
It’s 2:50 on a Monday. I should (I know, SSA Clara, I know) be ‘at work’ getting the book releases ready to go. Instead, I’ve been spending a few minutes with a good friend on Google Hangouts. While there, a joyous profusion of rainbow light caught my eye, and I decided to add it to my Rainbow Collection. Read On
Not writing. Not-writing. Not!writing. Knot-writing. Knot writing. In knots. In NOTS.
I haven’t felt like blogging the last, I dunno, since I wrote last. Don’t feel like looking how long it’s been either. Because that’s sort of NOT the point. The opposite of the point, if anything. And, that’s not even really true. I’ve wanted to, but I didn’t have anything to say. Anything WORTH saying. Again, NOT the point.
I’ve been spending a lot of my Pollocking time in NOTS this past week. Not the super-bad kind of nots, where it’s like, “you’re not worth anything,” “you’re not going to amount to anything,” “you’re not really going to write anything.” More like, “I’m not ready,” and “I’m not done researching,” and “I’m not sure where I’m going with this yet,” and “Still reading not writing.” Read On
Yesterday was a complete wash. Stayed up the entire night before, reading Robinson‘s Close to Home, ’til after 9 am. Then a belated birthday celebration with Lily and Miss MeL at FATE Brewing Company. (Second time in two days we’d been to FATE, because we discovered it, and its amazing Coffee Kolsch, on Saturday after massage.) That led to early bed or a late nap because beer and homemade key lime pie weren’t conducive to doing a whole lot of thinking or writing or even sitting up watching the A++ hilarious entertainment that is Alaska State Troopers. Read On