*An unedited script on death, time as an artist, with some poetry and what it actually means to be silent as a creator.
My art and writing turned quiet and inward in the last year.
My Dad died.
He wasn’t just my Dad,
he was a great guy and someone I could talk easy too. he was a good friend. A constant inspiration. Before that, his mom died, and that was a whole other well of lost thoughts and dreams I have to find in the world again.
The world turned inward. Colors spread out came through my eyes and flipped like the biological lens we Carry.
The last thing I made that people saw was his obituary.
Colors turn backwards.
The thoughts turn inward.
It’s something we do. We watch things come and watch things go. The waves bring new stones and broken bones, and sometimes we loose the way.
The way leads on, says Edwin Muir.
I turn 30 this year. I’m collecting pages of old books and burning old dreams. Those dreams recycle, into something tangible.
We are the sum of what we leave behind. Who do we become?
The lens reverses.
When the colors are ready.
My mirror is full of scars, dark eyes, and things I never wanted to see.
Full of life experiences that are beyond comprehension in their beauty. Generosity. Camaraderie.
I am fortunate in my work.
If I was handed the riches
Of the world, I’d decline,
I would rather have friends, in all the wrongful right places.
They are the riches the world forgot. Rough like stone, glittering in the harshest light.
We don’t get to choose what happens to us, but we get to choose what we do with right here and now. We choose what we do with what we got when we got it.
Tomorrow mourns, the fallen artisan.
Tomorrow awaits, the aspiring dreamer.
Tomorrow mourns, the end of time.
Time reveals the Calls,
Stuff and stout in place.
The prospect long sought, defines its line,
To stand again,
At End Of Time.
The fallen artisan.
The Aspiring Dreamer.
Last Updated 7.15.2018
Sometimes people ask me about writing. Here's the thing's I say.
Q: I have always wanted to write a story, but it seems daunting and I don't know if anyone would like it.
A: Write the story. It is worthy. Making it is worthy. Do The Thing. Tell the voice of doubt 'Not Today.'
Q: My gr4mmar and speling suck, I cant write good.
A: You'll learn the rules as you go. What's important is you write it down, and keep working to make it the best it can be. This may be the painter in me, but I like to write by building layers. Mistakes are common and frequent, because getting the point across is more important to me in the first drafts than making sure my letters are arranged correctly. Getting that final draft polished is important, but don't let perfectionism stop you from finishing that first draft. And when you've don't what you can do, that's what editors are for. (Like Lara Milton)
On social Media, Internet, and Marketing:
Just do what you're comfortable with.
I don't care what all these people are saying about "You have to get a twitter/instagram/tumber/youtube yadayadadydada' just do what feels right and natural to you. Weigh the good with the bad. (Because there are benefits, but chances are that if you haven't used social media and utilized those benefits yet, they are not going to work for you.)
Your job is to write stories. If you have other things that are taking gratuitous amounts of time away from that, consider if it's worth it. (With social media, chances are, it's not.)
Decide what you want out of writing.
Ask yourself questions. Research what you want. Research what that looks like. Research how to do it. There's a million ways to 'Make it', and the definition of it changes from person to person.
The only way to do it is to keep doing it, and there will be a million times you want to quit before it gets better, and it will be harder in more ways than you though possible. Do it anyway. (cuz goonies never say die)
On Writer's Block:
If you're stuck, try this:
Sit down at your writing spot, and think of something you DON'T want to write about. Then take it a step further and thing of the thing you want to write about least. Then go farther and think about the thing that would curl your fingernails to type on a keyboard. Write that. At least a page.
You'll have a different perspective of what you want to write about after that.
That first few hours of finishing something are ****** magical. Enjoy! Rejoice! Celebrate! Huzzah!!!
But you are not done.
Put it away for as much time as you can. A week at least, longer for novels. you need to forget about it for a while, and then come back with fresh eyes to chip away to become something to give to others.
I hate this part, and usually muster about 45min before I'm back reading it through again, but it does work.
And when all else fails, remember:
Making Something Important
What makes something important?
Art and writing can be imperfect. Perfectly flawed, like humanity.
I don't think you can make something meaningful unless you bring complete, vulnerable truth to it. Put it out there and say, 'this is the pure, ugly, beautiful, chaotic truth.' Even when it feels like it's clique, over used, or overstated.
No, it's not.
Someone else might have said it, but not in a way that YOU can say it. It's important to remember that, when your making things, or doing whatever it is that you do.
Making art is important. It's the shelf we sit our heavy hearts. It's the place we build ourselves up from, a flame we can light our candles with. Torches passed from country to country until they light a beacon of unity. Unity in Humanity.
We are imperfect beings,
and we are flawlessly flawed.
But someone else needs to hear the story,
so they can get through it,
or see something
or carry another torch.
If you're not dead, keep going.
If you get killed, walk it off.
What you do is important.
Go latch onto what holds you up. Make something else.
Somebodies world might depend on it.
I salute you, fellow artist.