So far,

So good.  I’ve set some small goals for myself and have managed to stick to them. Situps and pushups each day. Painting each day.  Just added “exfoliate” each day. I know that may seem silly, but it helps me to feel better when I look in the mirror.

I’m REALLY pleased with my painting efforts.  Not that I’m creating masterpieces, but that I’m actually just painting.  I have a tendency to avoid trying things I have not fully mastered, at least in the creative fields.  If that makes any sense.  Like I expect to be a full-blown master at something the first time I try it.

This is not the case with less creative endeavors, like I’d find in the safe confines of cubicle hell.  It took me a while, but I eventually became quite confident in my abilities as an administrative assistant, even though I loathed the job. I came to understand that I was viewed by my co-workers as one of the best, if not the best, admins in the office.  I had a professional demeanor and was technically much more than proficient.  This was due to my natural curiosity, and unwillingness to let a challenge go.  If I didn’t know how to do something on the computer, I figured out how.  I ended up sometimes irritated with others who would come to me for help, having not even bothered to hit the F1 key first, which is how *I* initially learned. Google is for everyone, people.

I suppose it’s ridiculous to not approach art the same way.  I would have been mortified to be so lazy as to give up the first time I tried, and failed, to accomplish something on the computer as part of my job. It was a point of pride to me to teach myself.  So why am I so impatient about my art? Maybe I’m hung up on the notion of, you either have talent or you don’t, as if every painter I admire just picked up a brush one day and ‘BAM’, “In Blue” is born.  It takes time, and I’ll never get better if I don’t work at it.

In Blue, by Wassily Kandinsky

In Blue, by Wassily Kandinsky

Waiting, by Audra Arr

 

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Step outside for a minute

Not literally, unless you think it will help.  I mean, when you’re thinking of your own problems, or watching tv (specifically, advertisements)…step outside your own world for a moment, and think about someone else.  I try to do this from time to time, and it can be alarming.

Example.  The other day I was watching Almost Human (Fox better not cancel it!) online and up popped a commercial for the Kindle, with the selling point being that it can be read in sunlight.  Two skinny white chicks sitting next to the pool in a tropical locale, one struggling to read her iPad, the other happily reading her Kindle.  The first thing that popped into my mind is “first world problem”.  It can be sooo easy to forget how privileged we have it.  By “we” I mean members of the middle class and up.  This can mean Americans, Britons….anyone who’s biggest concern on any given day may be that they can’t read their $500+ tablet in sunlight.  We can become so insulated, it’s easy to forget there are those out there without electricity, let alone without a tablet to read on.  Maybe they can’t read.  Watch enough advertising and it can be easy to forget that there are non-whites in the world.

One of the things I find helpful, but that I do far too infrequently, is to try to pull my head out of my ass long enough to empathize with those who have less than I do.  Not just materially less, but physically, mentally, even spiritually less.  I’m not trying to sound like an egotistical ass, but I probably do.  For example, I was abused as a child, struggle with depression/bipolar, loathe myself physically, and am not living the life I want to live.  Yadda yadda yadda.  I was given a harsh reminder of how good I have it the other day when I learned that Josh’s sister has breast cancer.  At the age of 36, she had to have a mastectomy.  Her mother abandoned her and her brothers when she was a baby, her father was killed in a worksite accident not long after, so her unbalanced, drug addict mother returned and took in her inheritance and her brothers, one of whom would commit suicide when she was 18.  She’s struggled her entire life with drugs and abusive men, and now has to fight cancer.  But, no worries, since she has little education and no money, the prospects for her beating this are great!

Her life makes my life look like a Hallmark film, and I need to be more grateful.

But I’m sure if I buy her a get well gift, like a Kindle she can read as she lounges by the pool, all will be well.

Kick ass. Please.

Not that I aspire to become a self-centered ass, but I am going to direct my energies more towards things I can change, like myself, rather than focusing SO MUCH energy on the regretful past or the imagined future.  Living in the past/future leaves a virtually meaningless present.  That being said, my list, not of things to necessarily be done this year, per say, but to work towards in general.  In no particular order…

  • Sign up for kickboxing
  • Become kinder
  • Become kick-ass
  • Take singing lessons
  • Improve my painting skills
  • Audition for something
  • Become less cynical
  • Stop getting rabid over little things, like a printer not working or some yahoo cutting me off in traffic.  In other words, let go of the little things
  • Take dancing lessons with my husband
  • See more plays
  • Stay sober
  • Write more
  • Photograph more
  • Play with my kid more
  • Live in the moment

On the subject of acting/auditioning; Something possessed me to google “late bloomers” in terms of acting.  Even though the majority of the actors referenced in the article I found were people who had been working in the movies/theater for decades, the article focused more on when they actually “hit it big”, which was later in their 30’s, 40’s or 50’s.  The article actually referenced 32 as being past your prime.  Kinda like basketball players, right?  So here I am, reading how rare it is to succeed the older you are and blah, blah, blah, when this little voice inside me asks, “why the hell are you reading this crap? what does this have to do with you?”  I then realized I was setting myself up for failure.  Without even realizing it, I had approached the idea of taking a creative leap as an impossible feat.  Like the nasty voice inside me (I call her Agnes….not a literal voice I hear, mind you, just a name I’ve given my negativity) was saying, “you want to do what?  well, let me show you how impossible that will be.  suck on that!”

I had to pull back, and remind myself that my focus should be on taking little steps.  Go on an audition. See what happens.  Don’t worry about the result, just take that leap.  If it works, great, if it doesn’t, try again.  So, to add to the list…

  • Replace negative thoughts with positive ones; aka, kick Agnes’ ass.  Tell the b*tch to pound sand.

Wish I was you. Or not.

When I was a freshman at Holmes High School in San Antonio, Texas, I met an obnoxiously tall boy named Will.  Something about this gawky kid made me crush on him immediately.  Three years later, he’d ask me out after a blissful two week flirtation when he suddenly became aware (or decided to act on) a crush he, too, had on me.  He stood me up, and ushered in my first major depression.  For a solid month I’d come home from school and cry until dinner, when I’d wipe off my tears so my mother wouldn’t see I was upset and ask “what are you crying about!?  I’ll give you something to cry about!” (sadly, this was often her reaction to my tears), eat my dinner, then return to my room to cry the rest of the night.  At this time, one of my good friends was Laura, who I would lament to about Will and my broken heart.  Summer break came, and when I returned to school for my senior year, I sat next to Laura in my creative writing class.  She quite sheepishly informed me that she was now dating Will and that, oddly enough, he had stood HER up on THEIR first date, too.  She let it go and they tried again, and were now a couple.  I secretly kicked myself for having called him up and chewing him out after he had stood me up, for I now realized that I had blown my chance with him.

For several months after that, I found myself trying to dress more like Laura, as if my suddenly wearing long flowing skirts and being more girly would make Will notice me again.  I soon abandoned the desire to “be Laura”, for I realized, while I may have wished Will back in my life like that, I didn’t want Laura’s life.  Laura’s life would come with her past, her experiences, her family.  At that time, I preferred my own life to hers.

I’m now at the stage when I don’t necessarily prefer my own history to someone else’s.  I’ve recently discovered Jenny Lawson, and am apparently the last to do so.  She’s wickedly, hysterically funny.  She struggles with depression.  She lives in or around San Antonio.  She’s married and has a daughter.  This morning I realized, I’m close to wishing I was her.  I don’t *think* I’m entirely there yet.  I think what I’d most like is to have her chutzpah.  How is it she’s struggled with so many of the same issues I’ve struggled with, yet she’s been brave enough to put herself out there?  Now, for all I know, her lifelong desire is to be a world-famous tap dancer, and her life as a blogger/writer is her gilded cage but, still, how did she push past her fears to become…fabulous?

About Will….we remained friends for years, but for at least 10 years after high school, I had a monthly dream about him that somehow involved the lost opportunity I had with him.  Finally, about 10 years ago, we were both visiting our folks in San Antonio and decided to go out on that date.  I arrived anxiously at the restaurant and waited for him out front.  My heart leapt as he turned the corner and approached me….and sunk as I saw the expression on his face change from happiness to horror at the site of me.  Though he was the same tall, lanky boy he’d been in high school, a back injury, chronic depression, and an ever-increasing dependence on Jim Beam had left me 100 pounds overweight.  Watching that disappointment register on his face completely crushed me, and it was the most painful date I’ve ever had in my life.  We no longer communicate at all, and I no longer dream about him.  It took me a while to get over, but somewhere in my subconscious mind it must have registered that if that prick was so shallow as to discount me due to my weight, he wasn’t worth dreaming about.

I lost a good portion of that weight prior to meeting my husband.  I put some of it back on and at one point was the heaviest I’ve ever been since we married.  The entire time my husband has adored me. He’s stuck with me through back surgery and childbirth (though he fell asleep briefly while I was in labor…grist for the mill right there), through morphine drips and alcohol withdrawal, gallbladder attacks, the death of my grandfather, two beloved cats and a dog, and recurrent depression. And he gave me a beautiful, funny, smart daughter who makes us both laugh and our hearts smile on a daily basis.

Though I aspire to be braver like so many of the people I admire, I do not yet wish to actually be them, because if I were, my husband would not be in my life and my daughter would not exist.  And that would be a greater loss than anything I’ve experienced.

First….

…day one of vacation, and I didn’t stay in bed all day.  So victory there.

Now on to it.

As previously mentioned, I’ve been at this crossroads of Major Depression Highway (it’s a dead end) and Mid-Life Crisis Boulevard.  So I’m trying to talk my way out of my regrets.  Today on Twitter I noticed someone commented on the fact that The Beatles were rejected by record companies multiple times before being signed.  This got me thinking of other successful creative people who had to have experienced failure and kept plugging away.  Of course, this isn’t a new concept.  I’ve often spoken aloud the words, “fall down seven times, stand up eight”.  And every time I say that, I see in my head Manu Ginobili getting knocked to the ground on a drive to the basket, then getting back up.  All in slow motion, set to music, with the previous text written under it.  One of the NBA’s promo videos years ago.  But I digress.  The number of times I’ve said it to myself, for it not to have sunk it…well, that just blows.  I’m now seriously considering plastering the walls of my house with reminders to just get back up.  Sounds cheesy, I know, but perhaps the only way to beat all the negative self-talk and regrets is to literally surround myself with motivation.  I found the text below on a website that is, in my opinion, very hard to read (hate anything but white background behind text).  So, I’ll include the text below and a link to the site here.

A long read, but worth it in my opinion.

But They Did Not Give Up

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.” ~ Samuel Beckett

As a young man, Abraham Lincoln went to war a captain and returned a private. Afterwards, he was a failure as a businessman. As a lawyer in Springfield, he was too impractical and temperamental to be a success. He turned to politics and was defeated in his first try for the legislature, again defeated in his first attempt to be nominated for congress, defeated in his application to be commissioner of the General Land Office, defeated in the senatorial election of 1854, defeated in his efforts for the vice-presidency in 1856, and defeated in the senatorial election of 1858. At about that time, he wrote in a letter to a friend, “I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth.”

Winston Churchill failed sixth grade. He was subsequently defeated in every election for public office until he became Prime Minister at the age of 62. He later wrote, “Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never – in nothing, great or small, large or petty – never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never, Never, Never, Never give up.” (his capitals, mind you)

Socrates was called “an immoral corrupter of youth” and continued to corrupt even after a sentence of death was imposed on him. He drank the hemlock and died corrupting.

Sigmund Freud was booed from the podium when he first presented his ideas to the scientific community of Europe. He returned to his office and kept on writing.

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall.” ~ Confucius

Albert Einstein did not speak until he was 4-years-old and did not read until he was 7. His parents thought he was “sub-normal,” and one of his teachers described him as “mentally slow, unsociable, and adrift forever in foolish dreams.” He was expelled from school and was refused admittance to the Zurich Polytechnic School. He did eventually learn to speak and read. Even to do a little math.

Louis Pasteur was only a mediocre pupil in undergraduate studies and ranked 15th out of 22 students in chemistry.

Henry Ford failed and went broke five times before he succeeded.

R. H. Macy failed seven times before his store in New York City caught on.

F. W. Woolworth was not allowed to wait on customers when he worked in a dry goods store because, his boss said, “he didn’t have enough sense.”

When Bell telephone was struggling to get started, its owners offered all their rights to Western Union for $100,000. The offer was disdainfully rejected with the pronouncement, “What use could this company make of an electrical toy.”

John Garcia, who eventually was honored for his fundamental psychological discoveries, was once told by a reviewer of his often-rejected manuscripts that one is no more likely to find the phenomenon he discovered than to find bird droppings in a cuckoo clock. (sort of a cute critique actually)

Rocket scientist Robert Goddard found his ideas bitterly rejected by his scientific peers on the grounds that rocket propulsion would not work in the rarefied atmosphere of outer space.

Daniel Boone was once asked by a reporter if he had ever been lost in the wilderness. Boone thought for a moment and replied, “No, but I was once bewildered for about three days.”

“Only those who dare to fail greatly can achieve greatly.” ~ Robert F. Kennedy

An expert said of Vince Lombardi: “He possesses minimal football knowledge and lacks motivation.” Lombardi would later write, “It’s not whether you get knocked down; it’s whether you get back up.”

Michael Jordan and Bob Cousy were each cut from their high school basketball teams. Jordan once observed, “I’ve failed over and over again in my life. That is why I succeed.”

Babe Ruth is famous for his past home run record, but for decades he also held the record for strikeouts. He hit 714 home runs and struck out 1,330 times in his career (about which he said, “Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.”). And didn’tMark McGwire break that strikeout record? (John Wooden once explained that winners make the most errors.)

Hank Aaron went 0 for 5 his first time at bat with the Milwakee Braves.

Stan Smith was rejected as a ball boy for a Davis Cup tennis match because he was “too awkward and clumsy.” He went on to clumsily win Wimbledon and the U. S. Open. And eight Davis Cups.

Tom Landry, Chuck Noll, Bill Walsh, and Jimmy Johnson accounted for 11 of the 19 Super Bowl victories from 1974 to 1993. They also share the distinction of having the worst records of first-season head coaches in NFL history – they didn’t win a single game.

Johnny Unitas’s first pass in the NFL was intercepted and returned for a touchdown. Joe Montana’s first pass was also intercepted. And while we’re on quarterbacks, during his first season Troy Aikman threw twice as many interceptions (18) as touchdowns (9) . . . oh, and he didn’t win a single game. You think there’s a lesson here?

After Carl Lewis won the gold medal for the long jump in the 1996 Olympic games, he was asked to what he attributed his longevity, having competed for almost 20 years. He said, “Remembering that you have both wins and losses along the way. I don’t take either one too seriously.”

“Our achievements speak for themselves. What we have to keep track of are our failures, discouragements, and doubts. We tend to forget the past difficulties, the many false starts, and the painful groping. We see our past achievements as the end result of a clean forward thrust, and our present difficulties as signs of decline and decay.” ~ Eric Hoffer

Walt Disney was fired by a newspaper editor because “he lacked imagination and had no good ideas.” He went bankrupt several times before he built Disneyland. In fact, the proposed park was rejected by the city of Anaheim on the grounds that it would only attract riffraff.

Charles Schultz had every cartoon he submitted rejected by his high school yearbook staff. Oh, and Walt Disney wouldn’t hire him.

After Fred Astaire’s first screen test, the memo from the testing director of MGM, dated 1933, read, “Can’t act. Can’t sing. Slightly bald. Can dance a little.” He kept that memo over the fire place in his Beverly Hills home. Astaire once observed that “when you’re experimenting, you have to try so many things before you choose what you want, that you may go days getting nothing but exhaustion.” And here is the reward for perseverance: “The higher up you go, the more mistakes you are allowed. Right at the top, if you make enough of them, it’s considered to be your style.”

After his first audition, Sidney Poitier was told by the casting director, “Why don’t you stop wasting people’s time and go out and become a dishwasher or something?” It was at that moment, recalls Poitier, that he decided to devote his life to acting.

When Lucille Ball began studying to be actress in 1927, she was told by the head instructor of the John Murray Anderson Drama School, “Try any other profession.”

The first time Jerry Seinfeld walked on-stage at a comedy club as a professional comic, he looked out at the audience, froze, and forgot the English language. He stumbled through “a minute-and a half” of material and was jeered offstage. He returned the following night and closed his set to wild applause.

In 1944, Emmeline Snively, director of the Blue Book Modeling Agency, told modeling hopeful Norma Jean Baker, “You’d better learn secretarial work or else get married.” I’m sure you know that Norma Jean was Marilyn Monroe. Now . . . who was Emmeline Snively?

At the age of 21, French acting legend Jeanne Moreau was told by a casting director that her head was too crooked, she wasn’t beautiful enough, and she wasn’t photogenic enough to make it in films. She took a deep breath and said to herself, “Alright, then, I guess I will have to make it my own way.” After making nearly 100 films her own way, in 1997 she received the European Film Academy Lifetime Achievement Award.

“Flops are a part of life’s menu and I’ve never been a girl to miss out on any of the courses.” ~ Rosalind Russell

After Harrison Ford’s first performance as a hotel bellhop in the film Dead Heat on a Merry-Go-Round, the studio vice-president called him in to his office. “Sit down kid,” the studio head said, “I want to tell you a story. The first time Tony Curtis was ever in a movie he delivered a bag of groceries. We took one look at him and knew he was a movie star.” Ford replied, “I thought you were spossed to think that he was a grocery delivery boy.” The vice president dismissed Ford with “You ain’t got it kid , you ain’t got it … now get out of here.”

Michael Caine’s headmaster told him, “You will be a laborer all your life.”

Charlie Chaplin was initially rejected by Hollywood studio chiefs because his pantomime was considered “nonsense.”

Enrico Caruso’s music teacher said he had no voice at all and could not sing. His parents wanted him to become an engineer.

Decca Records turned down a recording contract with the Beatles with the unprophetic evaluation, “We don’t like their sound. Groups of guitars are on their way out.” After Decca rejected the Beatles, Columbia records followed suit.

In 1954, Jimmy Denny, manager of the Grand Ole Opry, fired Elvis Presley after one performance. He told Presley, “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, son. You ought to go back to drivin’ a truck.”

Beethoven handled the violin awkwardly and preferred playing his own compositions instead of improving his technique. His teacher called him “hopeless as a composer.” And, of course, you know that he wrote five of his greatest symphonies while completely deaf.

“No matter how hard you work for success, if your thought is saturated with the fear of failure, it will kill your efforts, neutralize your endeavors and make success impossible.” ~ Baudjuin

The Impressionists had to arrange their own art exhibitions because their works were routinely rejected by the Paris Salon. How many of you have heard of the Paris Salon?

A Paris art dealer refused Picasso shelter when he asked if he could bring in his paintings from out of the rain. One hopes that there is justice in this world and that the art dealer eventually went broke.

Van Gogh sold only one painting during his life. And this to the sister of one of his friends for 400 francs (approximately $50). This didn’t stop him from completing over 800 paintings.

John Constable’s luminous painting Watermeadows at Salisbury was dismissed in 1830 by a judge at the Royal Academy as “a nasty green thing.” Name of the judge, anyone? Anyone?

Rodin’s father once said, “I have an idiot for a son.” Described as the worst pupil in the school, he was rejected three times admittance to the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. His uncle called him uneducable. Perhaps this gave him food for thought.

Stravinsky was run out of town by an enraged audience and critics after the first performance of the Rite of Spring.

When Pablo Casals reached 95, a young reporter asked him “Mr. Casals, you are 95 and the greatest cellist that ever lived. Why do you still practice six hours a day?” Mr. Casals answered, “Because I think I’m making progress.”

“Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; but great minds rise above them.” ~ Washington Irving

Leo Tolstoy flunked out of college. He was described as both “unable and unwilling to learn.” No doubt a slow developer.

Louisa May Alcott, author of Little Women, was encouraged to find work as a servant by her family.

Emily Dickinson had only seven poems published in her lifetime.

15 publishers rejected a manuscript by e. e. cummings. When he finally got it published by his mother, the dedication, printed in uppercase letters, read WITH NO THANKS TO . . . followed by the list of publishers who had rejected his prized offering. Nice going Eddie. Thanks for illustrating that nobody loses all the time.

18 publishers turned down Richard Bach’s story about a “soaring eagle.” Macmillan finally published Jonathan Livingston Seagull in 1970. By 1975 it had sold more than 7 million copies in the U.S. alone.

21 publishers rejected Richard Hooker’s humorous war novel, M*A*S*H. He had worked on it for seven years.

22 publishers rejected James Joyce’s The Dubliners.

27 publishers rejected Dr. Seuss’s first book, To Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street.

Jack London received six hundred rejection slips before he sold his first story.

English crime novelist John Creasey got 753 rejection slips before he published 564 books.

William Saroyan accumulated more than a thousand rejections before he had his first literary piece published. Way to not take a hint, Bill!

Gertrude Stein submitted poems to editors for nearly 20 years before one was finally accepted. See . . . a rose is a rose.

There is a professor at MIT who offers a course on failure. He does that, he says, because failure is a far more common experience than success. An interviewer once asked him if anybody ever failed the course on failure. He thought a moment and replied, “No, but there were two Incompletes.”

Let’s end with Woody Allen: “I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying. Eighty percent of success is showing up.”

A long list, I know, but surely there’s something for everyone there, right?