One Small Step
I made a big decision today which has little to do with perfumery except as a means of unclogging the block in the creative flow.
I find that between the ADD and the paranoia I've developed from living in a neighborhood which hosts such characters as The Shooting Man, a Vietnam vet who happily shoots you down with his fingers whilst calling you a motherf*cker, unless, of course, you give him money; a homeless woman who screams and shouts racial slurs at other women and often 'gets in your face' for no apparent reason, because she never asks for money or, well, anything; and the various and sundry zombies (those are the folks addicted to meth, heroin, and pills) who panhandle in the most odd places, such as where you're walking from your front door to your car in the driveway, that I have become creatively stunted (again) (I know, that was a long sentence and if you tried reading it aloud you'd be blue by the time you reached the last word).
Why do I allow these outside forces to control me this way? I don't know, but I've taken a small step to alleviate some of the stress of this situation by leaving the FB pages of various crimes-in-the-city and neighborhood watches. I guess this is a classical case of ignorance is bliss. I just can't have all this negativity rammed down my throat in a constant 24-hour feed. It's enough I see it with my own eyes and experience an occasional weird front porch moment, I don't need to commiserate with other people in my neighborhood fielding the same issues. I think I'm more suited to country living. Perhaps even deeper, mountains maybe. Heck, I'll throw it out there -- living in a cave for a while sounds refreshingly lovely, though I'm sure the little voice in my head would be shouting and breaking windows before too long.
I guess the long and short of it is I'd like to be in control of the amount of BS being spilled on me at any given time, I mean, who doesn't? Media out of control filled with non-news stories (dieting, perfect eyebrow plucking, deodorant dos and don'ts, 10 ways to know if your man/woman is cheating), then there's the real news which can be so brutal and painful that it leaves scars, then there's FB feed and endless blah-blahs from friends and acquaintances and ads interspersed here and there to entice you to like and buy, then there's familial, real-life news, drama of a different sort, that saps what little emotional and mental energy is left, so that by the end of the day it feels as if you've worked your tail off when all you've really done is troll the internet and listen to your family gossip and complain.
The only real thing is action. I have to get the new syllabus and course curriculum up for the Fall class, and I'm developing an advanced composition class -- it's hard to do these things while allowing (and yes, I am allowing it, or was anyway) outside forces to take me off track. It's exciting new stuff coming from the Academy these days. I have so many ideas and programs I wish to implement. We're growing!
AND I have this awesome new project -- foodie and fabulous, and if all turns out well, I will be presenting some of these olfactgustatory treats on the Etsy site in late fall for holiday purchasing. You're not going to believe what I and my cohort in olfactory crime have dreamed up.
I'm off to the J-O-B, where more responsibility means no raise here in Poorsville. Gosh, why leave on a negative note like that?
Okay, everyone, it's Friday! Go have a nice gin and neroli hydrosol cocktail, and drop a cardamom flavored sugar cube in there -- see how that 'does' you :)
I find that between the ADD and the paranoia I've developed from living in a neighborhood which hosts such characters as The Shooting Man, a Vietnam vet who happily shoots you down with his fingers whilst calling you a motherf*cker, unless, of course, you give him money; a homeless woman who screams and shouts racial slurs at other women and often 'gets in your face' for no apparent reason, because she never asks for money or, well, anything; and the various and sundry zombies (those are the folks addicted to meth, heroin, and pills) who panhandle in the most odd places, such as where you're walking from your front door to your car in the driveway, that I have become creatively stunted (again) (I know, that was a long sentence and if you tried reading it aloud you'd be blue by the time you reached the last word).
Why do I allow these outside forces to control me this way? I don't know, but I've taken a small step to alleviate some of the stress of this situation by leaving the FB pages of various crimes-in-the-city and neighborhood watches. I guess this is a classical case of ignorance is bliss. I just can't have all this negativity rammed down my throat in a constant 24-hour feed. It's enough I see it with my own eyes and experience an occasional weird front porch moment, I don't need to commiserate with other people in my neighborhood fielding the same issues. I think I'm more suited to country living. Perhaps even deeper, mountains maybe. Heck, I'll throw it out there -- living in a cave for a while sounds refreshingly lovely, though I'm sure the little voice in my head would be shouting and breaking windows before too long.
I guess the long and short of it is I'd like to be in control of the amount of BS being spilled on me at any given time, I mean, who doesn't? Media out of control filled with non-news stories (dieting, perfect eyebrow plucking, deodorant dos and don'ts, 10 ways to know if your man/woman is cheating), then there's the real news which can be so brutal and painful that it leaves scars, then there's FB feed and endless blah-blahs from friends and acquaintances and ads interspersed here and there to entice you to like and buy, then there's familial, real-life news, drama of a different sort, that saps what little emotional and mental energy is left, so that by the end of the day it feels as if you've worked your tail off when all you've really done is troll the internet and listen to your family gossip and complain.
The only real thing is action. I have to get the new syllabus and course curriculum up for the Fall class, and I'm developing an advanced composition class -- it's hard to do these things while allowing (and yes, I am allowing it, or was anyway) outside forces to take me off track. It's exciting new stuff coming from the Academy these days. I have so many ideas and programs I wish to implement. We're growing!
AND I have this awesome new project -- foodie and fabulous, and if all turns out well, I will be presenting some of these olfactgustatory treats on the Etsy site in late fall for holiday purchasing. You're not going to believe what I and my cohort in olfactory crime have dreamed up.
I'm off to the J-O-B, where more responsibility means no raise here in Poorsville. Gosh, why leave on a negative note like that?
Okay, everyone, it's Friday! Go have a nice gin and neroli hydrosol cocktail, and drop a cardamom flavored sugar cube in there -- see how that 'does' you :)
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