sheridanzig

An Open Letter to My Pores

Dearest Pores,

Okay, I get that you're necessary. And really, I appreciate all you do. But we need to talk.

First of all, I'd like to apologize for the way I treated you from 1971-1996. I really took you for granted during those years and only gave you attention when you presented me with a red shiny gift. This attention was pretty harsh and was occasionally accompanied by anger, such as in the Homecoming 1987 incident. And I know that. And I wish I would have done things differently. If there's anything I can do to rectify that old situation now, please let me know and I'll really try, I will.

That being said, we're now living in the present. 2009. And I know you've heard over the years that bigger is better and that everyone should supersize everything - but please realize this does not apply to you. I just caught a glimpse of you in the bus window, and I had to say something. Because, really, how far do you plan in taking this to prove your point? Uncle! I get it now that I never acknowledged your invisible awesomeness. Sorry for the confusion over this and the mixed messages on my part. I hope it's not too late to rethink your path.

Oh, and if you could go back to being invisible, I promise to notice and applaud you, as if you were more visible than Paris Hilton and Octomom combined.

Thanks in advance for your consideration.

Hey, is this thing on?

So lately I've been thinking a bunch about what I want to do when I grow up. I like to solve puzzles and be creative. I really need to have open-ended work where no one tells me how to get it done.
(I don't question authority - authority just doesn't really occur to me.)
Oh yeah, and I'd like some time around people, but the majority of time by myself (that's how I recharge).
There are a lot of professions I've thought about over the years, and I'd probably enjoy some of them, too. Being a researcher or a medical examiner, for example.
But there's one thing I've wanted to be or do since I can remember: artist.
Not a designer. Designers create things for other people, based on outside specifications. Artists create things they themselves like, based on their own specifications.
There aren't a ton of successful artists out there - designer is definitely a safer career path - but they do exist, they are out there, and why not me?
(Though I won't be quitting my day job any time soon!)
The first step I'm taking is going back to school. I don't have a college degree, and while you don't need one to create, art classes have always taught me a lot and are inspiring - and I need to get back into the artist (instead of designer) way of thinking.
So I will be applying to Cornish College of the Arts. I was very impressed when I took a tour of it in high school and have wanted to go there ever since.
And now it's time. Because, hey, I gotta try.

Chances for the Masses

I listened to the Beatles a lot in junior high and into high school. Now I'm not knowledgable on the how's and why's of music and music theory (that would be my brother!) but I always marveled at how their sound changed over time. From something boppy and fun to something mysterious and fun, with harmonies that are SO fun to sing along with (I'm looking at YOU, "Because").
They're very inspiring like that for me. Changing from awesome into...still awesome. Taking chances. But...chances for the masses, if that makes any sense. Doing their jobs, but in a way that they find interesting. Hmm...

Mental note: listen to more Beatles.

Changing Status, Changing my Mind

I just changed my Facebook status to "...is an artist."

This came about through I conversation I just had with my manager. I said that I really wanted to be an artist, and he replied that he thought I already was.  We chatted for awhile and it became apparent that I am the person I need to convince.  Hence the first step - a public declaration.

And it was freakin' HARD.

I feel really weird about it.  Like that someone may challenge my assertion and validate my fear that I'm not an artist.  Or artistic.

I also feel weird that I feel weird.  And that I'm admitting I feel weird.  Too weird.

Life, Discipline, and the Pursuit of Stompywalker

A quick update.

I'm still running and plan to complete a half-marathon at the end of March.  This past Saturday I ran for 9 miles, which is much farther than I had ever thought possible.  And what do you know, it felt great - after I was done I wanted to go out for another run.  Of course, I was really tired and wouldn't have lasted 5 minutes, but the enthusiasm was there.

My plan for "Stompywalker" is going more slowly than I had hoped.  If only I was as diligent about art as I have been about running!  I can see that I'm going to have to schedule it in - otherwise work, running, games, TV, breathing...or something else, ANYTHING ELSE, seems to fill up my time.

I may need to forgo TV (not a big deal) and reading (a much bigger deal) in order to focus on art for a while.  I was looking at random photos on Flickr today and felt like if I don't start creating, well, that would be a real waste.  One reason I may not throw myself into art completely - controversy.  I like images that make me uncomfortable or make me think but am not sure if I want the comments that would bring.  Another blog post on that sometime.  Anyhow -

So tonight.  I will create something tonight, and post it.