The Artist LIVES!!!
Again.
Bam.
No, really, it has been a long journey to get back here, to come full circle like this. I feel like I did when I hula-hooped again, a few weeks ago in Seattle. See, I used to hula-hoop all the time when I was 8 years old. However for the last two years, I’ve tried it again, and couldn’t get it going. That’s until I met the hippy at the marketplace who gave me a lesson, sold me a solid hula-hoop and told me to just go for it, “believe in yourself!” And I did go for it.
She turns to look at her hula hoop resting against the base of the breakfast nook…
And sometimes during writing breaks, or commercial breaks, I hula hoop away!
That’s how I feel right now.
Victorious!
I’m just writing away–my head is moving forward with the story but I’m taking my time finally, you know??? I’m creating…
For instance… here’s the first paragraph of my new novel when I was writing like a structuralist:
By the way the dreariness of the gray Manhattan sky filtered into my bedroom this morning, I thought it would be an average day; at ten before noon, my expectations changed. A message written in red letters popped up on my screen from Michael Bristow. I sipped in a deep breath before opening it and after reading it, I buried my face in my hands.
And here’s the first paragraph that has been written by the artist:
The dreary Manhattan skyline tapped my mood this morning. Not in a bad way. In a, Thank God it’s going to be an average New York day way. Before heading out I put on a light coat of makeup, topping it off with red lipstick. I put on black skirt suit, Dolce & Gabbana and black Mary Jane heels, Manolo Blahnik. Just a note—I’m not a snob. I didn’t buy any of it—not even the face paint. My mother, a historical actress of long running daytime soap opera did. However, once appropriately costumed for the upper eastside office I work in, which happens to be just a single number blocks west from where I’m living, I hit the asphalt.
++++++
I don’t know… I’m loving with the artist is doing. I’m loving the change in my mindset. Just feeling my character being, telling the story, experiencing the story…vulnerable in the story. And she can be, whomever she wants to be. Say whatever she wants to say. React, however she wants to react!
Let’s just say, I started over last night and have been writing as soon as I logged off from the day job.
You know, I was watching Jillian Michaels on The Talk earlier this week and she said to use your emotions as an indicator of what makes you happy. Think about how you’re feeling when you’re doing something and if it makes you truly happy, then do more of it. Well, let me tell you, as soon as I logged off from the day job and started writing as the artist, I saw butterflies, and a bright yellow sun in a cloudless blue sky. The day wasn’t to hot or too cold. And I swear there were fields of lilies beyond my sliding glass door.
I was tripping…
I was high…
I was happy. I am happy. As I end this post, and return to writing, I’m stilly–HappY…