Someone or other once said “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.” Well, I keep making plans and life keeps happening. That article on Vikings and volcanoes I started in April is still on the backburner because I need to do a bit more research, but other things have been occupying my time. Like my book and paying work—in that order.
Let me start by saying that perfectionism is a curse that rots your brain and hacks away your self-confidence until you’re nothing but a quivering pile of dogshit. I am author, hear me whimper.
Four years ago, if you had asked me what I knew about Norse mythology, I would have shrugged and mumbled something about Thor dressing up as a woman to get his hammer back. I couldn’t even remember the name of Odin’s wife, and Loki was little more than a dark figure in my mind. Nonetheless, it was Loki who sparked my imagination.
That is what I love so much about winter—not the season itself but the dramatic change in the world around me and the shifts they inspire within me. Winter is my annual reset button.
Freedom of speech does not protect you from criticism; rather, it subjects you to it.
There is a time and a place for art: the time is now and the place is everywhere.
Over and over again, I’ve wondered when I might go and what I might leave behind. There will be no brood of brats to carry on my name, probably just a yowling cat, a pile of artwork, a jumble of Viking re-enactment gear, and a shit-ton of unfinished or unpublished stories, articles, and poems. And probably my half-eaten corpse. (I’ve been thinking I should invest in one of those automatic cat food dispensers.) But honestly, I do ask myself what I want to achieve and what contributions I want to make to the world, even if “the world” is just my little circle of friends and family.
Sleeping is something other people do. Today, eating falls into the same category. My body tells me I’m hungry, and then tells me it won’t eat anything. Between the not eating and the not sleeping, I’m not exactly in top shape. Throw in the migraine that’s been creeping up on me and I’m pretty much just fried. I need a nap. A nice, long dirt nap. Wake me up when this life is over.
John Lennon once said “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.” Well, I’ve made plans—lots and lots of plans—and a whole lot of life happened instead.
Art, in all its forms, is first and foremost an act of self-expression. It doesn’t matter what your art is, or how complex or simple your creations are, or even if you share your creations with anyone else. You are pulling back the curtains and revealing yourself, even if you are your own audience.