8:13 - 8:35
I will water my vine and leave the windows open when I'm gone. Hopefully ambient sunlight will nourish it to grow up around the balistrade, the well stained handrail of carpeted stairs. Then, of course, the asparagus fern hanging off of a piece of wood I nail across two window frames. It is happy there although the tiny spikes on the branches, an evolutionary defense mechanism, betray my desire to reach in to find if is dried out. Only once parched should one re-water. (I water myself now as a reminder of what good it does to my body for flushing toxins and giving my complexion that radiant glow we all think about when we see someone we love).
Ocean currents, photosynthetic bacteria, floating objects al bound up in the North Pacific Gyre, oil spills from ships or BP get the attention though our everyday activities add up to infinitely more crude oil spilling out through storm drains into the canals, the rivers, streams, the ocean at once seemed boundless until we found out how long we left the water running --- I could study this because I have a test on these subjects and more (hypoxia causing 'dead zones' due to a low level of oxygen in the water and the chain of events that can cause these scenarios... nutrient loading causing algal blooms which can lead to oxygen deprivation after decomposition and respiration of bacteria.... exhale). I could study, yes I could! What if I finally wrote myself into a meaningful story about my experience with an open mic night and made it relevant to the radio station's website. It could masquerade as a sort of editorial. An advice column to amateur musicians or perfectionists who spend all their time practicing and sharpening up their (personally evaluated) 'dull edges' instead of revealing the true nature of their artistic spirit to the eyes of the world. It is good to be self-aware. Criticism from kindred spirits is valuable. Go to a coffee house with a microphone. Bring your guitar. Play that one song you've been kinda sorta working on and finish it mentally before you get on stage. You are the element of surprise. Surprise yourself and see what happens.
On a whim, that spirited day where angels seemed to come from the woodwork to offer me advice. They were just students like me. One of 40,000 or more. We talked of our ambitions and I told of an opportunity for this open mic paired with a lacked of preparation on my part. The pianist angel, with Icelandic dreams, told me not to worry. "The worst that you will do is just be 'mediocre.' You will not fuck it all up beyond repair."
"Okay. I'll do it. Now I'm going to be anxious all day," I replied after a moment of hesitation.
That is what you must kill, creatives. Those moments of hesitation are no good for the ambitious, desirous mind. Be brash and bold, feed your spontaneity. Write your name on lists that will be called in order. Go first. Nervous energy will feel silly compared to the weight of an honest passion.
Take your paintings to a gallery without a meeting. Force your talent to be reckoned with. Get published.
No more bullshit.
