Today is a heavy anniversary day. It’s the anniversary of that thing that makes me cry and will always make me cry. That day that showed us the absolute worst a group can do to another and the little things that showed the best of humanity as a result. It’s the kind of anniversary that makes you want to hug your loved ones close (if I did that sort of thing) and do all the things you wish you could but scare your pants off. Which is why two years ago on this date I started writing this blog.
Two years of TMI and inappropriate sharing and pictures of wild life doing wild and scary wild life things. To years of blurting the wacky thoughts and feelings that occupy my headspace. Two years of challenging myself to embrace the freak-out that posting here does to me every single time. This date is reminder that life is short, to do and say the things that terrify you most. Which is why tomorrow freaking myself out again. Tomorrow I’m going to get as emotionally naked as I have ever been and I’m going to share my ‘Art’, my Stabby Trees and see if anyone wants to buys them. I can hear my friends telling me to be more positive. Ugh. I don't call this blog “Emotional Maintenance’ for nothing. So, a more positive spin on that sentence would be, “Tomorrow I’m going to sell my trees to people who find them as enjoyable as I do. “ Snort. Positivity doesn’t sit well with me. There are too many "What if..." scenarios floating about in my head to blow sunshine up my butt. A more realistic (and yes, negative) version of that sentence would be “Tomorrow, I’m going to stand around for eight hours and be judged.” It’s funny, most people think performing on stage is the most terrifying thing I could do but on stage, there is a character I’m playing. A character I’ve created and spent time on and lived with and if people hate what I’ve done, I can say they actually hate the writing not me. Or I can say that the interpretation of the character was because of how the author wrote it or how the director told me to play it or because the audience was a shit that night. Then I can go out with my fellow actors and cuss the critics out while drowning my righteousness and misunderstood talent in booze. But this, this ‘art’ thing is way WAY more terrifying. I’ve made these trees in my studio at home. I’ve enjoyed making these trees. They make me happy to look at them, see them catching the light from the windows in the morning or casting shadows on the walls at dusk. They evoke such feeling in me that I am more than a little scared to stand in the booth tomorrow and let people pick them apart to my face. So I’ve created a list of the worst things that could happen – mostly to get the worst-case scenarios out of my head. There are more things spinning around my head than are listed here but this is all I can firm up and focus on right now. Really the day will be what it is. People will buy or they won't. And if they don't, I get to take my trees home and look at them some more. Silver lining: I’m with my friend – who talked me into this thing – so I can spend the time laughing and joking and hating on her while no one buys anything. It’s the little things… Okay, here comes the crazy: · No one buys anything. · Someone bleeds. They are Stabby Trees after all, so someone might stab themselves and bleed and that someone might not me. · I’m in a booth next to the chiropractor I broke up with in January and I have to pretend I don’t think he’s a Napoleon-istic, verbally abusive ass all day. · No one buys anything. · Worse, people walk buy, look at the trees, say something passive like “Oh… that’s um… interesting…” and then walk on by. · People hurry past with that smug “Aw, you poor sweet thing.” smile on their face. · My friend sells way more than me and spends the day trying to make me feel better. · I have one of those hot flashes that make me squirt sweat out of my forehead at an alarming rate. · My credit card reader thing doesn’t work. · It rains and no one comes. · I have one of those emotional hot flashes that make me burst into tears for no apparent reason and cannot get myself under control. · It’s too hot and no one comes. · I have to use the port-a-potty. Who am I kidding? We’re there for hours. I’m going to have to use the port-a-potty. Ugh. · Someone buys a tree and hates it. · No one buys anything. No one buys anything. No one buys anything....
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
Categories
All
|