I was on a date last night (with the architect)(more on that later) and he said “I’m a pretty quiet person. You… are not.”
(smile)
He did not mean it as an insult and he made sure that I knew that. It’s true, I’m not- and that isn’t just about how much I talk, it’s literally an overall statement of my energy and expression. Living in New York has really helped me to move from wishing this was different to fully inhabiting my natural volume. I kind of think that is the secret to “making it” in New York- be who you are because nothing else you try will be useful or interesting. You can take up space here, trying to be something else- and no one will notice, no one will give a shit. New York says to you ‘Figure out who you are and be that’ and this is why we stay in spite of all the things that make it just a touch insane to live here: because here one can be free.
I missed it, completely, if this is what life had expected of me all along, wherever I was. If anything I feel like maybe it was the exact opposite that was communicated. I bought it, too- the idea that I had to be something different than what I naturally was to be acceptable or loved. It still fucks with my head because the message is reinforced every time I do something that makes other people uncomfortable.
Like, write this little blog.
Every time I sit down to write, I make choices. Choice number one is to write first, edit later; the rest of the choices are really in the editing. Years ago I read The Artists Way by Julia Cameron and have been writing morning pages regularly (often daily) ever since. It’s part of my mediation practice. Before that, I have been writing in a journal since I learned how to write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts and feelings, probably since I was maybe 6- though then journals were diaries and they had keys. It has always been a free association of sorts; an exfoliation of thoughts & ideas in an effort to make sense of them. It’s how I learn, process, express, take in, let go. For all of my life I have written poetry, and have always understood it as something being channeled through me- itself a free association, most of my poems are edited very little- because they are kind of not mine. I’m sure I will share some here, over the next 75 days. Point is that what you end up reading here is an edited topical free write: I just get it all out, remove the parts that I think might be uninteresting/irrelevant and leave the rest. Everyday there is at least one thing that remains intact that I consider removing because it’s too crass, too sexual, too… unsettling, disturbing, or revealing. And everyday I choose to leave it there because sometimes it’s hilarious, other times erotic, irreverent, controversial or disgusting- but I can almost always hear my own voice in it and that makes it brave and true.
Someone I loved very much told me that art should make people feel something powerful. He also told me that everything we see began with a sketch; that it all starts in getting the idea out and down. To me this meant create from the heart- take what you are feeling and make it a sensory experience to share with others. To date, any of the powerful work I have created is made from this holy space; the rest of the stuff I make is fine, pretty, useful, cool, or whatever, though I have always struggled to share my work with people- too much anxiety. I was so deeply unsteady in myself that I just couldn’t deal with the judgment and vulnerability. Artfucks can be real dicks. Regular people can be horribly cruel. It was just easier and safer when I payed attention to who you wanted me to be and delivered that; pleasant to the point of obliteration and invisibility.
I have invited you all into this space with me so that I could take what I was feeling and hopefully create a sensory experience for you, that leaves you in some way altered- maybe mad, turned out, exhausted, concerned, inspired- etc. What I am feeling as a result of asking out at least one person every day (often more) is going to be all the feelings I have about love, romance, sex, and myself described to you through stories that are memories of my life. That’s the first layer. The second is that I am an artist- in this case, the writer- and so the feelings I have about that get folded in there. Now bring in the feelings I have as a result of the critical thinking and insight on these REALLY IMPORTANT AND BIG DEAL areas of my life contribute to the folding layer metaphor I am too tired to complete. I am pointing this out to you because this space is hella bigger than me just updating you on whether or not I fulfilled my commitment to ask someone out each day and telling you a story about it.
Today there were a couple people who are kind of important in my life who made it very clear to me that they had some judgment about what I was writing here. One was concerned she would somehow be affiliated with it, the other told me plainly that I should not share this with people I want to date or am dating. It definitely upset me. I’m mostly over it, or I will be when I wake up.
But hear this: I hold my audience to the highest of standards, I think VERY well of each of you. I know you are sensitive, brilliant, thoughtful people. I assume that, given how intelligent and open-minded you are, that you can read this and see it is a small part of a big picture. I am especially moved by how much you love LOVE and really want to see me find someone to love, who loves all of me- madly. Hell, you might even want somebody who would love me precisely for being brave and sexy and committed to this project! I know you are way past the premature layer of existence where you would think I am a slut or that I cannot be taken seriously. In fact, I can feel your warmth for me glow and grow with each passing day, each entry. My audience is composed of the most extraordinary beings who know I too am extraordinary.
And if this ⬆⬆⬆ does not describe you? Well, don’t bother reading any more. It’s not for you and I assure you it’s over your head.
That said…
The architect is a very attractive man. I’m smitten. He does not know about the project yet, and I don’t know if he wants children so I think we are in the right place for 2 dates. I am a little tempted to turn down the volume on myself, tighten up the screws and stuff- because I really want him to like me, choose me… but I’m not doing it this time. This time, he can see exactly who he is getting himself into.
I did not ask anyone out today- I didn’t see anybody I wanted to ask out, and I let myself off the hook because of the date and I had a little surplus of asks, anyway.
Going hard into it tomorrow. I spoke with a friend the other day and he asked me, “so do you just walk up to people and say ‘I think you’re attractive, will you have dinner with me?'” and truthfully, I have not done that yet. But this week, I am going to force myself to do it just that way. Get it! Wish me luck!
xxx
no i do not love you 