
I have willed stuff into being. Lot's of it. Will will willing willfulness. And if you dared to tell me (brave soul, you), in the midst of my willfulness, that I should let go of my expectations, (gasp!) I would have gone stone cold, or snortle-laughed you off, or pressed delete. Because I thought expectation was a key ingredient to manifestation. Turns out it's a major distraction. And I'm done with it. For now. (One day at a time 'n all that.)
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I’ve been writing a novel since the beginning of time. Okay, perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration, but it sure feels like it. In actuality, I started it in 1999 or 2000 and have been working on it, on and off, for twelve years or so. It’s all kinda fuzzy.
And I’m only about 160 pages in, so take my advice with a single molecule of salt.
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I'm all for mental health days. And gentleness. And I think the world should take the month of December off. And for the love of God, a 4 day work week would revolutionize the collective human spirit and thusly, healthcare. But this pep talk isn't about taking it easy, this is about another form of self care: doing whatever it takes.
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I've decided I don't give a shit anymore.
Not about an agent. Not about a book deal. Not about the number of blog hits I get. And not about the fact that my platform is barely big enough to reach the cookies on the top shelf.
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The other morning I woke up with the uncontrollable urge to make art in some form or fashion. It didn’t much matter to me what that art was or wasn’t. And it also didn’t matter to me that I have no art history at all. I don’t hold a fine art degree or have some extensive list of various art workshops that I’ve taken. All I have is a folder full of pencil sketches that I have done at random intervals over the years and a sudden yearning to create. Lately it seems that I have been more interested in wielding a paint brush dripping with color and attacking any surface in sight (including my bedroom walls) to fulfill my creative needs than doing just about anything else.
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Here's my personal creative credo, synthesized into 5 lines (it's all you need, really):
1. Keep it pointed to where you want it to go.
2. Pay close attention to your creative fantasies.
3. Keep it lean and keep it clean.
4. Art involves risk.
5. Form informs feeling.

I was just asked by my awesome new friend SARK to write about why I write. Now mind you, I write every day. For hours. Writing is what I do. I've written three books, countless magazine articles, and over 350 blog posts, in addition to the private journal writing nobody sees. Writing comes totally naturally to me. And yet, faced with this task, I found myself paralyzed. How do you write about writing? I mean I'm a big fan of Anne Lamott's Bird By Bird. And she does it so brilliantly! But I struggled. Then I muddled through. This is what came out.
From the time I was six, when a family friend gave me a leather-bound blank book and invited me to write in it, I have been a writer. I was offered my first publishing deal when I was 11 (I turned it down -- they were my private stories, after all. Sheesh!).

I am staring at a blank page.
My daughter is sleeping. So is The Husband. And here I am. Finally able to sit down at the computer to let the thoughts I’ve been hoarding in my head spill on to the page.
This is a frequent occurrence in my home; this little moment of solitude one I steal from myself. After the dishes have been done, the laundry taken out of the dryer, and lunch packed for The Husband’s next work shift, I forgo sleep for a moment of creativity.

A long to-do list sits before me, but I set it all down to plan my birthday dinner with friends even though it’s more than a month away.
I’m looking at the menu of a local vegan restaurant about which I've heard rave reviews, but have never been to. Listen to this first dish: whole wheat tortilla with spicy butternut and black bean chili, ground walnut chorizo, zucchini tahini nacho cheese, scallion, avocado and roasted red pepper sour cream served with blue corn chips. Just reading the description of this first item makes me want to go shopping at the local market and fill my basket with fresh ingredients to whip up an amazing feast. The restaurant has just opened a cocktail lounge too, with “fresh juice cocktails” like The Lemon Bomb with lemongrass and cardamom infused vodka, fresh lemon juice, agave and soda.

Do you feel called to give birth to something within you the way I described here? Are you trying to think your way through something you just need to feel?
Yeah. Me too. That’s why I spent this weekend back in my art studio, which has been too long neglected. When I find myself in stuck in some part of my life -- or when I’m having a hard time making a tough decision -- I paint. Suddenly, my hand is swirling and my mind is slowing down and I find myself in a sort of meditation that I think some call “the zone.”
It all sounds very mystical, doesn’t it? Something reserved for monks and professional artists. But it’s not. It’s right there -- completely accessible to you -- any time, any place.
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