Pearl doesn't like it.
Posted tagged ‘iPhone art’
Freezing Rain (March Madness Without Basketball)
March 23, 2011Blocking Writer’s Block – Swallowing Rejection (With Bhavana)
March 22, 2011
Rejection- Hurts Going Down
Today, I thought I’d focus on one of the biggest blocks to a struggling writer: rejection.
Rejection feels awful to anyone, whether it arrives in one’s personal or professional life, but it presents a double-whammy for a writer, perhaps because it automatically hits on both the personal and professional level.
Hard for anyone to swallow, it is an especially stony lump for someone who regularly focuses on “voice.”
It doesn’t help much to hear about the zillions of rejection letters received by famous writers.
For one thing, those famous writers are not you (and they were eventually famous.)
For another, writing is hard work; it takes time and has significant opportunity costs. While success/acknowledgement may not make the work fundamentally easier, it does seem to offer the struggling writer more time to write. It also offers a channel, a place and encouragement for “flow.” And a sense of respect. It can be easy to feel stopped up without those things.
What to do?
I am reminded of a yoga teacher who talked about the distinction between the sanskrit terms “bhava” and “bhavana.” He described Bhava as a state of spiritual ecstasy; bhavana as the cultivation of spirituality, the actual practices of devotion.
The fact is, he said, that you cannot force bhava–you can’t even be sure whether spiritual practice or any particular effort will induce it. But, while you are waiting and hoping (uncertainly) for enlightenment, you can at least go through some set of motions. You can, in other words, cultivate a discipline that feels like the groundwork for ecstasy, even understanding the quantum leap between discipline and ecstasy, and in that practice, you can, perhaps, achieve at least a certain contentment.
So (I tell myself), you cannot force success in the writing world, no matter how hard you work and scheme and (literally) plot.
But you can take steps to grant yourself some of the benefits you think that success would give.
More time? To the extent practicable, allow yourself to take that time.
A channel? At least get a writing-minded friend.
Respect is harder to come by, but at least try to respect yourself enough to finish what you begin.
Most importantly, keep in mind what started you writing to begin with; that you enjoy saying things. In print.
Too Many Explosions
March 21, 2011
Natural Disasters, Manmade Suffering
You Can Find Them Anywhere – Even with Pearl!
March 19, 2011
Naptime
Pearl- (Like the world) Unstable.
March 18, 2011
Pearl Going Unsteady
So much that’s difficult going on in the world, I decided to focus on matters closer to home today. Pearl!
Only she’s also losing stability; she also can be a source of distress.
The fact is that Pearl will be sixteen later this year, and though she capable of brief rituals of puppyesque enthusiasm, her legs are skewed and her vision is terrible. She is capable of running into even major obstacles (park benches) much less minor ones. Her walker has to continually watch for even very shallow stairs or steps.
Still, she’s intrepid, walking slowly, trotting briskly, (or simply allowing herself to be slightly dragged) forward.
Ongoing Nuclear Disaster Draws Fear (Japan)
March 17, 2011
Fear Continues To Spread.
Bad News, Writing, The Warm Fuzzy Blanket
March 16, 2011
I am so distressed by the situation in Japan that I am finding it difficult to think about other things.
The heartbreaking loss, the continuing catastrophes, the overload of uncertain information–all make the situation completely torturous.
Then again, torturous situations seem to abound these days–the onslaught of pro-Khadafi forces in Libya; the onslaught of the Republican Congress at home; the never-ending winter in Battery Park City.
I am not saying that these onslaughts are in any way similar; only that their combined force makes me feel like crawling under a blanket.
Which brings me to the subject of escapism.
And, since I am on the subject of escapism, writing.
How do you keep going as a writer when you feel like just crawling under a blanket?
In the face of terrible events in the world, in the face of personal obscurity, there can be an extremely strong sense that one’s writing really is pretty trivial.
This is an especial problem when your writing really is pretty trivial. There is a big part of me that would like to write profound, thought-provoking, English-language-expanding books. But the fact is that my mind tends towards the silly. (The verbal equivalent of cute little elephants.)
Right now, I am in the midst of a final, or next to final, draft of an extremely silly novel, a teen novel, no less.
I have given up at about this stage on other manuscripts. What’s different this time is I’ve enlisted the help of others–a young illustrator, and a young editor (more on them another time.)
Involving other people makes it a whole lot harder to just bunk off.
Still, that blanket lures me like a woolen Siren. What I’m trying to do at the moment is to just put it over my legs (a layer beneath my laptop) and not completely succumb.
Impression of Images of Japan Post-Tsunami – A Detailed Shattering
March 14, 2011
The news out of Japan continues to be heartbreaking. The translated words of survivors are devastating, their stoicism inspiring (and devastating).
The landscape is, of course, devastated. One of the most shocking aspects of the images, for me, is simply the clutter, the jam of detritus, the crisscross of shard, the shattered layering of mud and rooftop and car, fender and mattress, washing basin, chair, the wayward smile of child’s illustrated toy.
One doesn’t associate this kind of disarray with Japan. Crushes, yes, odd disjointed pairings (Colonel Sanders in the Ginza), but always, always, even in the plastic samples of dinner offerings in restaurant windows, there is a carefully decorous attention to detail.
I think of a visit there many years ago. Every leaf in our host’s not-inconsiderable garden seemed to extend from its twig (every twig from its branch) at a gently harmonious angle; the man-made and the organic accompanied each other like thirds or fifths or beautifully atonal sevenths in a single line of music. Yet the details were executed so thoughtfully that the garden (okay, forget about the plastic food) also seemed perfectly natural, randomly special–signs of forceful manicure a la Versailles were no where visible.
In the images of the last few days, one is conscious of a great and terrible force, careless of both men and the man-made, nature at its most ungentle,
Worried about Japan
March 13, 2011
ManicDDaily 
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