Abstract Life

Is life abstract?  This is a question that I ask myself on a near-daily basis.  According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the word "abstract" holds numerous meanings: the word is simultaneously an adjective, a noun, and a verb.  The definition that bears the most weight is the word used as an adjective--and specifically, definition number four, which defines "abstract" as "having only intrinsic form with little or no attempt at pictorial representation or narrative content."  When applied to a lived life, "intrinsic" can mean one's intrinsic value, or one's set of morals.  Conversely, a "pictorial representation or narrative content" can refer to one's outward "value" or achievements, including one's occupation(s), awards, and how others perceive you.

On a deeper level, the novelist Charlotte Bronte employs a complex literary device that mirrors this definition of life in the abstract.  In The Three Brontes, May Sinclair discusses Charlotte Bronte's use of this literary device to describe the deep psychological processes that Bronte's protagonists must contend with on a daily basis.  The protagonists each have an "inner world," or psyche/mind, which is affected by an "outer world," or outside influences (i.e.: circumstance, one's "lot" in life, etc.).  Substituting the phrase "inner world" with "intrinsic form," and "outer world" with "pictorial representation or narrative content," the abstract can be seen as an analogy for one's intrinsic value and contentment, which contrasts greatly with dominant modes of measuring happiness or prestige. 

You can probably see where my allegiance lies.  I hold tightly onto what contains intrinsic value.  It is not that I shun awards, what others have to say, achievements, and the like; I just prefer quietude to endless noise.  A little fanfare is fine, but when it borders on raucous applause and exuberant photo taking, I pause...and take flight.  Maybe it's a hermit's lot in life.

At this point, my life is abstract.  I attempt to live intrinsically, while continuing to be acutely aware that my narrative content is a bit slow on the uptake.  My resume may not read like an accomplished ingenue, but the intrinsic value is priceless.  "Post-accomplishments," I have learned much about myself, but it's a tough process, this learning to be content! 

So that is why this blog post--with an image of blurry, green baker's twine and a mention of one of Charlotte Bronte's literary devices--is pretty abstract, for it reflects a congruous, abstract life.  And frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.  With tongue-in-cheek humor, I shall leave thee until next time.

Shelter

Thank you to all of you who have left such kind, thoughtful comments on my last blog post about silence, personal epiphanies, and all things that are the zest of my existence (but are designated boring by society at-large).  It is very refreshing to know that I am not alone in my introverted, solitary ways.  It is solitude that I seek in order to steady myself in this quick-paced world, to find some inner peace within the noise, and to both accept and persevere.

So yes, I admittedly seek shelter in solitude.

In addition to the roof over our heads, sometimes we need other types of shelter to survive, especially for sanity's sake.  To me, shelter can be found in a great many shapes and sizes: even in the abstract form, since shelter is an all-encompassing term for what makes us comfortable.  Shelter can be found in paperback, a beloved album, the ocean, your significant other's arms, a well-worn sweater, the ruins of a church, etc.  The form does not matter as much as how you feel while in its presence: the calmness and acceptance that things will be okay allows for comfort as a current state of mind, rather than as an evasive, fleeting emotion.  It is the feeling of an easy happiness, which oftentimes plays a mean-spirited hide-and-seek with the grown...and cynical.

Yes, cynical I can be.  But today, I am comfortable just being me.

Below are some of my solitude-seeking inspirations; metaphorical shelters from life's storms:

Green and white baker's twine, porcelain bowl

Paintbrushes, Jane Eyre, vintage salt shaker, decoupage glue

Vintage milk glass ramekins (custard cups)

All Things Golden and Warm...

All things golden-hued and warm, I am drawn to.  

A subtle glow, an inner radiance... 

Something preferable functional, vintage, or just plain unique.

Handmade and a story behind it makes the find even better.

Truth: I didn't want to bore you with my new milk glass fascination.

Here are some of my favorite golden, warm items on Etsy:

From: ImpulseART

From: dadamietz

From: pillowsophi

From: metalmorphoz

From: jansonpottery

From: SerendipityGemstones

From: ChaoticHarmonyCafe

From: TheHiddenChamber

From: HelloVioleta

Rebirth of a Book

I received a book in the mail, intended as a gift for a dear friend.  Upon opening the package, I was rightfully shocked: the book was weathered, its outer pages yellowed, and cover sullied--much to my dismay.  I then did what any deeply feeling, semi-creative type would do: I salvaged the pages.  I took my husband's box cutter and gingerly cut out each page, which came out in three-to-five-page piles, with a swift swipe of the box cutter.

I made some unique items from some of these pages.  Unfortunately, I cannot share them with you right now because I have yet to download the pictures from my camera onto my computer.  I promise to share them one day soon.


If I don't blog again before Christmas, happy holidays!  I'm not really a holiday person, so this will suffice for now.  :)

Thank You

Lately, I've been getting into the holiday spirit in my own hermit-y sort of way--creating gifts for people, cutting up books (that will be a chronicled in a separate post sometime soon), and dreaming up ways to stay unique in a world that urges prototypical conformity.  It's not an easy task!  However, there have been some recent developments that have reminded me why I do what I do.  And for them, I am thankful.  

As I blogged about not too long ago, I sent my hermit friends their holiday cards very early because one's destination is across the ocean.  One of these wonderful friends, GoHeyJudy, blogged about her excitement upon opening the envelope--in addition to saying such nice things about my shop.  Not that her excitement wasn't warranted, but you should see what she sent me:

 My very own Guardian Judy doll...

...isn't she absolutely charming?!?

GoHeyJudy makes the most unique and spunkiest rag dolls, and I've had my eye on her Angel Judy for some time now.  Needless to say, I was very touched by her gesture.  "Thank you so much!" doesn't have enough leverage here.

Also, I've had some really kind return customers this holiday season, and some sweet feedback, too.  These actions are reminders to me that all those long days and nights spent agonizing and obsessing over how to wrap and present my shop items were well worth the anxiety and sleeplessness.  It has taken me a year to get into the groove of how to present items purchased from my shop.  Taking photos, listing the product, and describing the item came quite easily to me, but conveying the Internet look into real life, physical items was a difficult task for a very long time.

It's like taking the uni-dimensional, flat words on a book page and translating them into a three-dimensional image.  You will undoubtedly get lost in translation (pardon the cinematic pun), stumbling over tiny details ranging from color, to ambiguity in word meaning, to tone.  The same occurs when one attempts to translate a photo into a book or story...there are so many variables to consider.

This is one constant variable: a gesture of thanks. 

Early Holiday Cheer

I am very excited today because after spending nearly all yesterday afternoon and evening creating holiday cards for my hermit friends, the cards have been sent out!!  This was all completed after being indecisive for weeks on what to give them.  You think I'm detail oriented?  There were all sorts of logistical dilemmas, such as: price, size, and creative blunders.  A learning experience, indeed.  (So if any of my hermits are reading this, your card should arrive within the next few weeks!)  Thanks must be expressed to my husband who diligently made two trips to the post office this morning.

I'm not big on the holidays, but this feat has me feeling quite cheery and content.  Well, not in the Christmas music, sugar plums, and screaming children in malls sort of way.  It's more like I want to sit by the fire-and read a darned good book.  (My pile of books to read beckons me, but I'm a veeeerrrrry slow reader.  The pile has not gotten much smaller in a year.)

My new favorite word is: bibliophile.  This, after seeing a segment on PBS about the declining popularity of books among youth in Japan.  The segment showed an old man bibliophile.  I am the antithesis of the typical bibliophile in Japan.  I'd much rather have my head stuck in a book than have it hovering over an electronic version of one, any day.  Cheers to real books and not computer versions of them!

To be Social, or Not to be Social

I used to pretend to be social--I spoke loudly, went to well-attended events, and psyched myself up enough to engage in high-octane conversation.  But the constant "on" left me exhausted in the end.  Exhausted and anxious--a bad high that came crashing down after a few hours of mania.  In those situations, I found myself doing mindless tasks, rather than keeping up with the organic flow of conversation: staring off into space, vision blurring, dishes washing.  Strange behavior?

By nature, I am an introvert.  As a child, I chose writing, reading, and drawing as favorite past-times, rather than interacting with others.  I've been typecast as shy and quiet for the majority of my life.  What a stereotype.  When has introversion not been regarded as a negative character trait?  It's been a long time coming, but I eventually learned that introversion is not necessarily a bad thing.  (It helps when your husband is just as introverted/more introverted as you are.)  You can't change who you are, so embrace your unique qualities.  Uniqueness breeds new ways of thinking, of being.  If everyone was an extrovert, the world would be an altogether exhausting, emotionally and physically draining place.  Sometimes we all need peace and quiet, hence the popular, zen-like phrase, "peace and quiet."

Contrary to the introversion myth, there are varying degrees of introversion.  For example, I do quite well with one-on-one conversations.  However, when more than a few people decide to join in the conversation, I freeze a bit--my palms sweat, fear sets in.  Also, I've learned that I can't be tied down with meaningless conversation.  If the conversation sways in this direction, I get frustrated and borderline irritated, feeling like I am wasting my time.  Hey, maybe I'm just a curmudgeon at heart.

      "A curmudgeon's reputation for malevolence is undeserved. They're neither warped nor evil at heart. They don't hate mankind, just mankind's absurdities. They're just as sensitive and soft-hearted as the next guy, but they hide their vulnerability beneath a crust of misanthropy. They ease the pain by turning hurt into humor.  . . . . .   They attack maudlinism because it devalues genuine sentiment.   . . . . .   Nature, having failed to equip them with a serviceable denial mechanism, has endowed them with astute perception and sly wit. 

      Curmudgeons are mockers and debunkers whose bitterness is a symptom rather than a disease. They can't compromise their standards and can't manage the suspension of disbelief necessary for feigned cheerfulness. Their awareness is a curse. 

      Perhaps curmudgeons have gotten a bad rap in the same way that the messenger is blamed for the message: They have the temerity to comment on the human condition without apology. They not only refuse to applaud mediocrity, they howl it down with morose glee. Their versions of the truth unsettle us, and we hold it against them, even though they soften it with humor."   

 - JON WINOKUR, from here.

Lessons

I am supposed to be working on editing, but editing takes up so much brain power and time.  Okay, the truth is that I am procrastinating...going on 4.5 years now, and would rather be putting my time and energy into this post at this very moment.  My writing began 4.5 years ago as a disjointed exercise in intellectual Olympics (or rather, I was mimicking intellectual thought), and omitted any inkling of personal connection or overt emotion.  My words were simply metaphors and analogies, with no grounding in reality.  Stream-of-consciousness writing is acceptable for poetry and works of fiction, but not for a graduate-level thesis.  I was covertly hiding behind my writing, scared of what the process would bring out in me.  Specifically, I was fearful of vulnerability, the painful process of connecting to my writing within the academic realm.  Now I know this, nearly half a decade later. 

This lesson was not fully realized until this past week, during a conversation with my husband.  I learned that it has taken me 4.5 years to personally identify with my writing, which began during a time of personal, intellectual, and emotional upheaval: a time saturated by a paradigm shift; a transitional phase.  During those years, I have questioned my ability to write and think critically.  That lingering, self-imposed incompetency had taken a toll on my self-esteem and productivity--"foggy-mindedness" and "like pulling teeth" are phrases that most closely describe how writing felt like during that intellectually uncreative time period, which I earnestly hope is nearing its end.  Writing from the heart and feeling the weight of my words, rather than writing from the head, is what I need to do in order to relieve the mental fogginess and finish my written work.

Perhaps the most important lesson learned is that I now accept that life happens; life cannot be ignored or set aside in the name of obtaining a higher degree.  I've followed my gut instincts all the while, especially in the last 12 months or so--and do not regret any aspect of it, although to the outside world I may appear to be slacking off.  Following my instincts led me to, among other things, opening my Etsy shop, starting this blog, and meeting some wonderfully supportive people along the way.  This past year has been an amazing, albeit unstructured, journey.

P.S. Happy 8 months to my love and I; a short time period when considering the 4 years and counting.

Why I Love Emily Mortimer

Emily Mortimer's Aha! Moment: How She Learned To Cope with Insecurity

As told to Crystal G. Martin
O, The Oprah Magazine  |  From the September 2011 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine

Photo: Getty Images

For years the actress—who stars in the new comedy Our Idiot Brother—shied away from the challenging parts she craved, until the role of a lifetime helped her face her fears.

In my first few years as an actor, I took one terrible TV job after another. But even as I laughed off my awful roles and made fun of myself to friends, my work made me cringe—I dreaded anyone's seeing it. I was crushed that I wasn't doing anything I was proud of.

Finally, my husband, who's also an actor, asked me, "Do you really want this or not?" I decided to give acting a serious, committed try, and soon after, I read the script for Lovely and Amazing. The story was beautiful and honest, and the characters struggled with the same insecurities many women—including me—face. I didn't think I had a chance in hell of being in the film, but I knew I had to go for it.

Somehow I got the part, and suddenly, for the first time, I was cast in something I believed in. I knew that in one of the film's key scenes, I'd have to stand naked in a bedroom while a sleazy guy, played by Dermot Mulroney, analyzed my body from head to toe. On the day of filming, right before we started shooting, I was in the bed with the sheet pulled up to my chin. I remember thinking, "I wish my mum could come and rescue me". The speech had been written about the flaws of my own body, so my droopy breasts, yellow teeth, and untoned arms were all fair game. When we began shooting, I walked to the foot of the bed and stood there, listening to the critique. The scene was about a woman laying her insecurities to rest—she's asked this man to tell her everything that's good and everything that's bad about her body. And in that moment, I felt as vulnerable and exposed as the character I was playing, but also just as brave. I was frightened, but I was fully invested, helping to tell a story I really cared about.

I realized then that I'd spent my whole life peeking out from under the covers. I'd been shy since childhood, constantly full of self-doubt. And as an actor, I'd been so scared of failing that I made my career—and myself—a big joke. But doing that scene showed me that even when I was afraid, I could still close my eyes and jump.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still shy—I'm no good at my children's parent-teacher conferences, and I'm slowly learning how to ask for what I want. But I now know that I have a reserve of courage to draw upon when I really need it. There's nothing that I'm too scared to have a go at. It's like I tell my 8-year-old son, Sam: "You don't have to be brilliant at everything. You just have to have the courage to put yourself in the line of fire."

Read more: http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Emily-Mortimer-Interview-Overcoming-Insecurities#ixzz1WpReuI7L

Creative Spells

Is it me, or does every self-deemed creative person go through periods of extreme creative lull and flow?  It's almost like a manic process for me, the creation of art, which I have so meticulously documented in this blog.  Twenty pendants created and added to my Etsy shop in THREE days?  Hmmm...

I try to look at this process as a creative hermit's (hurray for hermits!) semblance of normalcy, my calming down process to wind down the day--or a cherished way to spend a hazy, slow afternoon.  I love what I do, and I do hope that it shows!  Currently, my creative process seems to be on its way up.  I can feel it.  Conversely, it can come crashing down in all its glory unannounced, leaving me feeling utterly uncreative.  But I'm going with the current upsurge, seeing where it leads me.

 
A semi-minor side note of sorts...
Etsy has been down, off and on, lately.  Frustrating, yes!