Oct 7, 2001
A new pair of jeans
I can't believe how thirsty I am. I am similarly disbelieving of how incongruous my level of alertness and my level of energy are. I'm wide awake and tuckered out. I wish my biorhythms would just get it together.
I feel as if a lot happened today, and yet there isn't much in the way of events to report. Maybe I'm just feeling things a bit differently all of a sudden. I'm looking at everything through a different lens, and I'm seeing so many details that once escaped my observation. I think I may have forgotten that things have edges. The focus has been so soft of late.
I might have resorted to quoting something from my little Zen book, but my dad packed it. That leaves little room for my usual apathy.
But I certainly can't close without offering some words ripped off from someone else's intellectual accomplishment:
"To find your missing creativity, release a little of your attachment to the worst injury ever done to you. Grieve the deadness that you are letting go, and that you have so long regarded as a trophy wound. Then celebrate the opening of a door through which your childlike nature can come back to you, laughing, asking the simplest questions, clearing your vision." -- Miller, 1994
And Plautus said, "Factum est illud, fieri infectum non potest." Done is done, it cannot be made undone. Now, I don't speak Latin, but that's some simple, durable wisdom. Rock solid. If I had a beard, I'd be stroking it thoughtfully. Fortunately, I do not have a beard -- nor have I the propensity to grow one. Me Chinese. Me relatively unplagued by unsightly body hair.
Oh. I saw Zoolander tonight. I'm not inclined to review it or anything, but I've been seeing a lot of Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson on the talk circuit, and I just continue to be impressed by them and people like them. I want to create something as brilliant as Rushmore. I want to write a screenplay with Drake Sather. I want to appear humble and charmingly at-ease on Letterman. I want to have the confidence to carry an idea through to fruition. Tomorrow, I will apply that desire in some fashion. Given my current state, it may only be in something as inconsequential as planning a meal. Baby steps.
posted by Mary Forrest at 3:07 AM | Back to Monoblog