Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Loves Me…Loves Me Not...

The life of a writer is so topsy turvy.
I'm sure you could say that for actors,
musicians,
visual artists…
basically anyone with an artistic temperament.

One day you're freaking out because the words aren't coming--
you've got writer's block.
Nothing sounds good.

And the next day, you're chock full of ideas.

Then you finish something.
And you're exhausted.
All you tell people you're going to do--
while you're sipping your fifth whiskey soda--
is that your'e going to take a break!!!
Your brain is tired.
You're tired.
Your body is sore.
You can't stand to write one more word,
or say one more word,
or think one more word.

FUCK WORDS!

Then the next day you're sitting at your office,
watching some videos,
reading some articles,
and you know you're ready to go at it again.

What?

Are you crazy?

Are you in an abusive relationship?

Yes, yes…and you know that I'm talking about me here, right?

I can't be ready to go again yet!  I haven't lost the ten pounds I gained over the last six weeks
that I excused myself for gaining because I was writing.
And when I write, I indulge.
I allow.
I live by the words: "Treat Yo' Self!"

I can't possibly ready to go again
because I'm still sore from the last time.
(I swear I'm talking about writing)

Yes,
I have been thinking about this play I want to write.
I've been talking to people about it.
I've been writing it for the past month or so,
truth be told.
Not in actual writing,
but in processing and talking through the idea.
It's a great idea.
But Jesus Christ!  Am I ready to go down the rabbit hole again?

Writing is like the mafia.
I want to get out,
but it keeps pulling me back in!

I flashback (such a writer)
to what my boyfriend said to me recently.
That he didn't see my passion for writing.
That it seemed like all I did was complain about it.

I can't speak for all writers.
But I do have a love/hate relationship with writing.
And it's not even "hate."
It's a love/fear relationship.
I love to write.
I love that form of expression.
I love when a new idea comes.
But soon after that exhilaration,
comes the doubt and the fear.
Can I do it?
Is it too big of an idea?
Am I smart enough to pull this off?
And I mask the fear by talking about
how hard it is,
how I've been writing all day.
Mostly, I've been doing everything except actual tapping keys on the keyboard.

But there are those days
where I fly and soar.
And I'm in love again.
It's like I was never scared.
Then it flips again
and it was like I was never good at it.

But I can't help that I'm a writer.
That's my blessing and my curse.
I'm a freakin' writer and I'm freakin' good at it.
It's the lens through which I see the word.

I'm not a writer because I'm trying to make a living at it.
Yes, I'm trying to make a living.
But I'm a writer because I know no other way
to answer life's questions,
explore what I'm confused by,
work my brain out…
I know no other way to do those things other than to write.
It's like I take a sliver off of a big wheel of cheese.
That is writing to me.

But today I was thrilled and romanced by the writing.
It was a chance meeting.
Soon we'll be on our first date
and then we'll find how compatible we are
and we'll be in a relationship.
Laughing a lot.
Impressed with each other.
Showing off our best stuff.
On our toes.
Then we'll get comfortable,
start wearing pajamas around each other all day,
farting, burping, eating out of cartons.
I won't be afraid to be in a bad mood in front
of the writing.
This is the real me, I'll say.
The honeymoon will be over.
I'll question why I even liked writing in the first place.
I'll question whether or not this is the right relationship for me.
I'll question it a lot.
I'll question it all of the time.
It will be torture.
Then something great will happen.
It'll surprise me again
and there I am, back in love with writing.
We'll go through our ups and downs.
We'll show each other our best and our worst.
We'll sweat a lot.
Then at the end of it…
there will be something beautiful, pure and fresh to look at.

Then I'll start picking it apart,
hating it,
judging it,
doubting why I ever wanted to have it in the first place.

And so it goes.
Writing…
I wish I knew how to quit you.

But not really.

I am grateful for my relationship to writing.
I am grateful for the opportunity I have to write whenever I want to.
I am grateful for Netflix and HBO Go (I say that a lot).
I am grateful for food.
I am grateful I didn't burn the house down.
I am grateful that the ideas keep coming.

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