Inspiration and Icky Hairy Things

I suppose that they're not always so separate, eh? Sometimes they come in the same box, or like two snowballs hitting you in the face one after another. The first one is cool and powdery, exploding into fairy dust when it hits you. The second is harder frozen more compact- it cuts you on the cheek. Bummer. Time to go inside for hot chocolate.

Big inspiration comes to us today from the swashbuckling queen in a pair of hot jeans, Kate Inglis. In honor of the unveiling of her new crew and her promotion to the position of ship authoress, I will tumble around with the notions of inspiration and fear. Who will prevail (i.e. myself or the notions.) no one can tell. I'm not sure which side I'm rooting for myself...

Kate says "Write. Write some more. Don't stop. Keep writing." To which I reply, "Aye-aye captian!" I don't know if there is anything more inspiring, more technicolor-dazzling-fiery-go-do-it, than the thought that you really can! Do it, I mean. All the imaginings, all the deep colors splashed onto the insides of your eyes for only a second before you return to searching through dry congressional minutes in hopes of finding something to actually analyze in your thesis... I digress. The aforementioned colors, those can be real! The colors can be projected through your eyes onto the wall of the coffee shop down by the city college and everyone passing by will stop and stare! Even the hippies selling peace necklaces, the "peace"which comes with the price of the necklas authenticated by the jewler's massive dreads and oh-so-unique scent of pachuli and B.O.- even they will pause in their jewlery-making.

But then comes the hairy part. I don't know what to write. And besides, who cares? I don't have anything really interesting clever funny insightful to say. One time I wrote something, and it made someone mad sad lonely. What's the point?

The fabulous and talented Modesto Covarrubias told me (well, I was one of the people in the room listening when he said this. I was the most important person though, because, well...I'm me. You don't see those other people hanging around here, do you?) that when you get scared making your art, scared that it's not good or important enough, that's when you know it's real. It's the scary stuff that makes us itch, and keeps us thinking about it on-and-off for months. When you're not sure that it really matters, DO IT. Because it does.

Easy to say, harder to do.

And so, my mateys, I leave you with this hairy, swirly fern. What do you think?