I talked to my friend last night who told me to do a “Living Vision.” You talk to whatever it is you’re trying to create as if it’s already happened and then you record it and listen to it. I did that this morning with my black teas since coffee — trying to wean off of it again.
I’m exercising that muscle from Istanbul.
Talking to it as it already happened.
Even that, what do you want your life to look like?
I appreciate having this diary to support my process since I am very much at a new beginning. And sometimes, what can I say? I didn’t want to necessarily come up in the age of social media. Someone rightfully suggested that I get on a couple of years ago which ended up confusing me more so than not. But then, you know, how many years does it take to make an artist? Ahhh.
Direction. I said that.
I had to separate myself in a sense because I had a couple of people come into my life over the past decade — and thanks for mentor help — I appreciate it, but I’m trying to listen to myself and steer the course. Clearing the noise to hear my own voice. Whoa……….
Obviously, look, I published something on my Substack last night, and someone else thought it was an energy leak, except I thought, look, I’m trying to be a writer, today. I’m going to concentrate on that… over here. Social media is the least of my concerns. I’ll do Christmas in Naples, you know, waving at it. I could spend hours on videos…or hours writing other things…reading…that shit.
I said I needed concrete goals so that’s what I want. I want to publish. I’m going to concentrate on that. I wanted to do a newsletter about Naples. Just putting up a hand.
I need to generate income.
I had another dream, Jesus, with the money men, like why, please tell me why, why do these money men keep on popping up in my dream? Especially after I publish something that I’m proud of…I love The Oldest Storyteller. In that space, I’m in my heart, feeling that as a good, sophisticated idea. I go on social media, dipping out. No.
I might end up just making another section in my Substack. Just thinking how I can get my stuff out there — pitch. Not quite sure what to do on Medium but someone at a mag picked up the first thing I published and it wasn’t even that great…so that’s my goal.
I should try and focus my energies.
If I want to research into what I went through — maybe there’s a space where I can do that. Once a week, go, here’s a little tidbit on childhood neglect?
I’m going to work on making a schedule, just work on structure. This has been a particular challenge. I wonder if that’s neglect, avoiding putting myself out there, or just struggling with basic structure. Secret Alzheimer’s. It’s fine, I feel silly at 37 dealing with it, but I got in touch with that and the beauty is…no one needs to know, no one knows me…
I feel much better this morning, again, I’ll keep reading Bukowski because…truly, I have never been more surprised…he has supported me greatly. Giving me a little boost. Cracks me up. Someone, one of my mentors, was like — think Joan Didion. I enjoy her, but it’s funny who, which artists, end up filling you up. When I plug into that voice in my own way…he would laugh, too, I mean, looking at me…I find that flow. Maybe we both moved through strange universes…
The thing is, about these money men, which they would find hilarious, right? They didn’t send me that stupid goddamn message. It’s like dealing with insecurities I don’t even agree with, conceptually. Everyone be your most fabulous, best selves. This is abundance 101: my abundance does not negate another’s. I hate hate competition, not my thing, I’m a solo sport person. I do not do jealousy, not even as a compliment, this is an automatic, I’m flung into a Game of Thrones universe where I’m drawing swords! I do not do agenda. I do not want it. I do not — sometimes — with these two symbols —understand these — dynamics! I feel less than or ambiguous…I keep on sweeping that away…I don’t dream about my parents, you see, I had a couple of nightmares but that’s about it. And who cares, who cares, these two symbols will end up being funny…in our aviators.
With a hand, I have to remind myself that I’m awesome and I can exercise the muscle of where I’m going from here. That’s my goal this week. Publishing, figuring that out, working on my book, pitching. I’m changing my direction of focus. I have a friend that supports me. She wants me to support her. This is a relationship that’s give and take…this is what I mean…this is where I’m focusing my energies. I can talk about that, one day, in that, “you never guessed I came from a story like that,” or I didn’t have problems. Sure, I wasn’t a drinker, drugs, that was hilarious to me. How are you so normal…well, I still am…but getting a grip on myself…I can see across my life…where I made some funny choices…what are you doing? So glad to be here now.
Last night, I just worked on another section of the Oldest Storyteller — love. What that is. We have ideas, right, and some of those take off…it’s downright magical how events will begin to organize themselves around that idea. Death, we’re talking about every moment, your whole life, that’s the perspective. So, he, she, they can pin you, that fine, that precise. Right there. I remember where I was, even, when I thought this.
“I never doubted that she loved me…” she just had bigger problems…
No, love isn’t sentimental. Love isn’t ethereal, it’s active, so in my own life, that evidently made an impact. Engage. Rage, that can be an act of love, too, because we cannot accept everything as being love. Not everything is love. People do things in the name of love but that doesn’t mean that it’s love. I’m sorry, but she gave you away to save you from herself. I can further go into this, this particular problem, in not being able to say no. I hear all sorts of phrases and ideas about what acts are full of love…and love might be “the only thing that’s real” since I was thinking about all this but in my case, love was truer than true but some of what happened back there…I had to say no. Death is in the back of this car, getting real, getting very real.
We tell ourselves things, we make all sorts of decisions when we’re young. No, I decided for myself, no, I do not agree, that’s not love. That was a big moment for me for much more than a passing thought in motion on Overland Blvd. I remembered in the car almost at our driveway, “I’m just going to forgive everyone, just skip it…I’m just going to fly over whatever this is…and just forgive, yeah,” and I might have even been four. Sounds good, in church. That didn’t seem to work.
Thanks because I feel tons of support for that story. It’s emotional, it’s a story that has enough confusion, drama, intrigue, and a healing psychological fiction through childhood sounds just about right, actually. And my case gives me a lot to work with…even how some of these problems might have gotten me sick, can’t really feel, repression, getting to know oneself, what mattered, right? Through the real, what was really there, and my childhood was so complicated. Death being like what are you doing here? What are you doing living in another house? You see? Now, maybe, right, I could have children if I wanted to, because I had to become a parent for myself and it’s going to be clear why and people come from all sorts of backgrounds…so I’m over feeling physically tumultuous over all this, like I have to say it wasn’t anything, not the worst, just the way people could respond to my story sometimes…this is a strict focus with a difference built in.
At least, there’s a lot of do, wisdom to be reaped from it, and that’s for everybody, a journey to get here…someone who gets in touch with their potential…and it’s true, most people don’t really know what their capable of, and Death, as a character, isn’t human, in the sense, he’s not after you. Can’t totally explain why, how, someone dies, but some of that is a reflection back on humans. He can’t change that he exists, he, she, they. And why would God have a man made relationship to power, why would this life not be about fulfillment…again, nope, this one is easy. Death is not playing the human game also. Not bad, no?
Sometimes I get overwhelmed by just how many people there are, how immense it is; we’re all leading our own separate lives, too, we’re on a journey, and I’m trying to heal even around that idea myself. I’m sure plenty of people out there can relate.
These are my thoughts this morning in the ‘81 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme with Death in the back… there, regardless. You see? Right there? Your whole life, the rest of your life, I liked that idea. Maybe this is a good newsletter, I don’t know, I’ll think, but I need to engage this way especially now that I have gotten out of a “good / bad framework” because creative writing is something else and I feel better about where I’m at. So, thanks again.