I’m gearing up for something so I thought I’d just get organized and write something now. Maybe I’ll stick this on the internet and maybe I won’t. I’m getting pretty sick of myself, that’s for sure. Something has changed inside me, that’s for sure.

I am a person who likes to hide and likes things quietly to be loud. I like to hide in the chaos of things. It helps me to decide on courses of action so slowly that they don’t really feel like firm decisions at all. But I don’t really DO a thing until I have made a committment. Not until a proclamation has been made. I wasn’t married until I GOT married. I don’t go on a trip until I get in the car and back out of the driveway, or wheels lift into the plane, or the boat pulls away from the dock. I’m not out of the audience and performing and seperate from one world into the next until the chords have ushered me into the song and I’ve started to sing. And even then, during all of these seemingly permanent things, I am negotiating escape strategies. Maybe except for the last scenario. I am pretty impervious to sabotage-y thought in performance. Maybe because I don’t get traditional performance anxiety.

I think I’ve been dragging my feet on some of my projects that need doing because I am scared of the next phase of things. This has happened before in my artistic development. I think I am scared of striking out and I am afraid of change. I think that my next bit of change is going to involve being more improvisatory and it’s going to involve being more of an individual. I think that I am scared to really OWN it.

I think that I am in that “waiting for something” phase of rest and that is never a healthy place for me. There is too much time to think. Too much time to think is NEVER a good thing for me. This is why lists (and I don’t mean my bloggity type), are so very important to me.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I don’t like little sayings like these. But there is a reason that things become rote. It’s because there is a certain truth to them. I am an easy believer of things that feel good, and I want things to turn out for the best. I will run from a challenge and an oppurtunity for growth because I don’t want to hurt. But at some point, I will suck it up, and go back to the climbing wall. I’ll see a sitch for what it is. I’ll slap myself across the face. And I’ll climb up and over and onto the next thing.

Because I’ve been sitting inside my house for too long and staring out the window thinking destiny is coming for me. It’s not. I have to go out and make destiny. And I have to stay on my toes. Because eventually, every single thing I do gets old and loses its effectiveness. Every video, every photo, every song, every lyric, every blog, every poem, every piece of me. This is the nature of things, if you choose the internet.

This is why if you don’t take time for yourself, you become that reactionary soulless blob that lately, I’ve started to recognize in the mirror. And there’s nothing less sexy than the desperate.

Maybe it’s just over-stimulation. Both in real-time and imaginary. Something to think about as I sit here staring at my gnomes and my monkey. Yeah. I have a monkey. He’s chubby and grey and lives on my table.

Maybe if I finish compiling NaNoWriMo I’ll get another gnome.