Sunday, April 16, 2017

Moved

SEIZE the day has moved.

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Monday, April 10, 2017

SEIZE the day has moved.
Last week I forgot the link. I am trying again. Thanks for letting me know.

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Monday, April 03, 2017

SEIZE the day has moved.


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Saturday, January 28, 2017

The Zen of Self-Publishing

The stars have aligned, and you've already received visions from on high. You've decided to self-publish. I know how you feel. I'm in the same boat. Self-publishing is like thumbing your nose at the establishment in one hand while becoming the establishment at the same time. This plunge takes moxie and something more.

I'm talking Zen, Urban Dictionary Zen. This is a "total state of focus that incorporates togetherness of body and mind." It takes bravery and insanity to put your work out there with no vetting but something called BETAS.

Self-publishing has changed the game of publishing. Vetted stuff with agents and editors and fancy folks drinking cocktails in lovely hotels is so 2000. The publishing game has changed forever. It's about your voice being heard in the NET noise without an advertising budget like a Disney blockbuster behind you.

Yes, you plan to HORTON HEARS A WHO this thing and say, "Yopp." But you have no idea if you are the voice that breaks through or just so much static.

You are here because the establishment is not for everyone. So of us must march to the beat of our own drummer. Self-publishing is about doing your own thing and hoping and praying you're not old American Idol worst singer for comic relief.

So here I am. In the coming month, I'm plunging again into the icy waters of wannabes. This time it's with an urban dramedy called WEIRD AND WONDERFUL. I've got the glorious pages edited. I've got a cover designer hard at work. Me? I'm losing sleep at night.

I'm lying on the bed thinking about dreamy greens and blues. I am procrastinating as much as I can. That's followed by energetic bursts of work that feel like solar flares. The words are on the page, but where is the love? Will there be love? As the great poet Paul McCartney said, "All you need is LOVE. Everybody, now." I need love.

Consider: your heart is in this dream. My heart is in this dream. Who wants a broken heart?

So I am breathing deeply. Perhaps this will be the breakthrough that moment that will cause my voice heard. Perhaps this will be one more misstep in a wild journey toward an unknown future. The thing that is important, my yeoman friends. For me and you. We have cultivated our pieces ground, our books. Our words.

Be Brave. Be insane. Soak in the Zen. Soak it in.

Here is a doodle for you.




Here is a quote for your pocket.

Either this is madness or it is Hell.” “It is neither,” calmly replied the voice of the Sphere, “it is Knowledge; it is Three Dimensions: open your eye once again and try to look steadily.
Edward Abbott Abbott

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Have You Failed at All Attempts To Be Conventional?

Hey, Artist, you started hearing it in elementary school: Gosh, that girl is weird. You remember wondering what the Dickens weird was. In your head, you were a slice of Wonder Bread. And what was weird about that?  It is true conventional is not your style. The whole "be at work at eight a.m. and leave at five" meme is just weird to you. 
What happens if you have an idea at one in the morning?  It won't wait for the "correct" time frame.   When you work all night, it is tough to get up in the morning. Some manager person at work points a finger at you and says you are trying too hard and bucking the natural order. You feel that you should receive a medal, but instead, you get a pink slip. 
Now you are out of work again. And you are supposed to unhappy about that. Instead of being unhappy, tripping glee is coursing through your veins. It had been a dumb job. Now you finally have time to work on the art projects that on the back burners. You pull them out and take long walks at the park and enjoy the chance to breathe. You are a bubbling cauldron of "toil and trouble" and that is a wickedly good thing. 
One day at a lunch with your friends, strangely your friends always have the time for lunch, you mention that you don't understand why people think you are weird.  Someone leans back in a chair and entreats. "Dear God (Insert your chosen deity here, or not), why would you want to be normal?" That makes sense and you forget about being weird and focus on that important discussion about Star Trek that you and your friends have been arguing about for the past five years.  
The next day between your stare-out-the-window time and your hour to stare at a painting that you think is cool, it occurs to you that you have failed at all attempts to be conventional. You have been fired from every conventional job.  People call you lazy, but you know that you are the busiest person you know.  The truth is immutable. You are an off-beat Bohemian. 
You know the solution for world peace. You know how to stop all inequality among people. You even know the how to stop world hunger. This kind of rebel knowledge does not endear you to the world at large, but leads you to hard knocks from "The Man." You wish you had a nickel for everyone that has told you that you will never amount to anything.  It has not gone beyond your notice, that those folks are specks of dust on a small planet, in an average galaxy, in a mongo universe, that's probably part of infinite multi-verse. I mean. 
Here is my bit of advice, avant-garde Weirdo.  Thank your lucky stars.  Thank them every day. Do your thing. Never stop. 
You need a doodle. Here you go: 
Here is a quote for your pocket from a werido, the great poet, John Lennon. 
You may say I'm a dreamer but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us and the world will live as one.

This blog was reposted from Reposted from Niume.  

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