Why Sparkly, you might ask. Maybe I was in the mood for something bright, to name this after something that could catch attention or keep me attracted and invested. Something a bit unexpected, something to shake us from the usual ruts and petty patterns of the everyday. Something different, a little exciting and bright and wild - like I'd like to be.
Did you know? Life is always beautiful. And miraculous. It just doesn't always feel that
way. Which is such a stupid thing to even type, for someone like me -
someone with a roof, clothes, food. Someone with love, for God's sake.
But despite the good, things can get very murky sometimes. From things
dredged up from the past. From chemicals confusing our poor tired
hearts. Sometimes, from no real reason at all. And we slowly get trapped
in a terribly great pit of self-loathing and smallness, right inside
our own little heads.
How do you clean the lens?
I get the blues. They can be pretty navy. It's hard to explain. There's
not always a particular reason. But I get despondent, and gray (blue
and gray, work with me, I'm a colorful one), and immobile. I don't
really want to see or speak to anyone, and I don't like myself very
much. I walk a fine-line, it seems, between this innate sense of
brilliance with great optimism and hope for a wonderful future andddddd
on the other side a very strong sense of what seems to be well deserved
self-loathing. Because I'm interesting, dammit. Or maybe not. Oh, God,
my poor human-sized brain that's so bad at math and yet so good at
remembering facts about Doctor Who.
But I keep trying
to make small stands on getting myself back: starting a painting.
Organizing old writings that might go somewhere one day. Working on some
freelance pieces for a few extra dollars, for another post-grad job
under my belt. A few days at a time, I'll have a spark. And then it's
dead. Most things are never finished. And I just resign myself to being
this mediocre disgusting creature that let all of its passions fall
Guys. Something that is so important to
remember, when you're in this little spiral of disgust and frustration
and NOTHINGNESS, is to not let yourself fade.
get gripped by the very uninspired and unnecessary clouds in your own
brain, fight back. Even if it's something as incredibly small as writing
little internet letters and creating silly, stupid, wild (and lovely)
random acts of art - whatever your art may be - for no other reason than
you still can. Do it. For the love of all that is good smelling and
lickable in this world, DO SOMETHING.
"Write it. Shoot it. Publish it. Crochet it, sauté it, whatever. MAKE."
up and down, dance your stiff limbs free. Scream if you can't stand.
Sing. Drum, shake, growl. Let the world know you will not lie down and
be still, simply because it's convenient to whatever mold you've badly
jammed yourself in. Never again listen to the people who make what you
want to do seem unimportant, because it's silly or you're not good
enough or because it's 'no way to make a living'.
This? This isn't really a way to make a living, either.
Which is EXACTLY the reason why it had to happen.
Make something, make anything. Now. And make YOU.