I don’t feel like much of a writer anymore. I don’t know what to blog when not acting like a giant firehose of personal experience on the internet.
My novel is a romantic comedy, because I want to write about things not me.
And I’m not much of a romantic comedy writer, given that I’ve not had even ten seconds of heart-bending romance in my life for the past four years.
Not that I’m complaining. That’s boring.
Plus, the internet has plenty of middle class single white women complaining about the lack of single men who fit their ideals.
It’s no wonder all the mens are hiding: if someone wouldn’t date me unless I were perfect, I’d hide out and play video games every weekend too.
I’ve just stopped looking, because I’m in a rut. It’s a bad time to look for anything more complicated than a good and affordable snow removal service.
A good handyman would be useful, too.
See what I did there?
Teaching has, fortunately, been fantastic.
I gave my my third hour students a creative project yesterday, and one kid found his ideas so entertaining that he giggled to himself the entire time he was working on it.
It was the most adorable thing I saw all day.
I’ve been reading a lot about quantum physics lately, and my brain is getting bended in all sorts of new directions.
Like – is what we believe to be true about ourselves what we create?
Can someone change his future by changing his belief about what the future brings?
Is the statement “I am an artist” enough to make space to experiment for someone who has believed his entire life that creativity was not in his repertoire?
The larger discussion about the power of positive thinking and creating intention has been turned into a fluffy pink clouds and crappy printed calligraphy New Age side show, and that pisses me off, because there is some good stuff in there.
Personal transformation cannot be restricted to those who buy the cutest affirmation flashcards.
I feel a bit self-conscious writing about spirituality on my blog, because I don’t want to become a skeptic magnet.