First of all, happy birthday Melissa. Hope your day is gr8 with a capital 8.
I’ve been pondering a lot lately why I feel resistance towards writing more than usual and I think it’s because of how the creative process inherently works. Creativity is by nature a reflection of the self and at times, I feel like I’m looking into a fun house mirror, the angles of my reflection all warped and distorted from what I know them to be. How can I make something that is a reflection of myself if I can’t see my own reflection clearly? How can I create something personal, knowing it will outlive this version of myself?
I suppose in some ways, that’s the point of making. Making anything is a reflection of the time and place in which it was produced: a product of the creator’s abilities, the energy they poured into it, the time and technology available. I recently saw a video in which they recreated the Mona Lisa as DaVinci would have seen it. They reverse-aged the paints, digitally stripped away the aged and yellowed lacquer, and combined that with the knowledge of paint ingredients in the 1500s to reveal how the colors would have looked when Mona was new.
The Mona Lisa has long, long outlived her maker, and taken on a life of her own. I don’t think anything I’m saying here is worthy of Mona Lisa-level attention, but the knowledge that my words could outlive me, or even the temporary perspective from which they were born, can be overwhelming enough to make me not want to put them down at all. I had the same problem when registering for home appliances before my wedding.
I debated a pink stand mixer, and ultimately feared I would outgrow my favorite color and one day wish I had chosen a safer option. While I know that my black stand mixer functions just as well as a pink one would, and I do still enjoy using it, I regret talking myself out of my initial decision. Out of going with my gut. Out of choosing the option that would bring me the most joy for fear that it would be the cause of annoyance or disappointment down the road. In writing this newsletter, I feel the need both to move towards and shy away from the more neutral, black stand mixer.
To choose the pink mixer in writing would be to be authentic to myself in this moment, regardless of what might have been or what still might be. To choose the black stand mixer would be not inauthentic, but more reserved. The safer choice in the long term, more easily able to blend into any design trends that might ebb and flow, more easily able to reconcile with my ever-changing opinions. But what does one do when they are sick of playing it safe, but also unwilling to be perceived without a safety shield? This is the question I have been wrestling with for months. I think maybe there is no right answer: only what feels best in each passing moment. Some days, certain choices will feel better than others.
There is no one choice that will feel right every single day (except maybe the choice to not murder?). Some days I will align with my own words more than other days, and some days you will too. It’s okay if what I’m writing is just a reflection of this singular moment in my life and it’s okay if somehow these words take on a life of their own that extends beyond my reach. Because even if they no longer reflect my current state of being, at any given time, they might reflect yours.
A little newsletter update: I was planning to take a brief hiatus from newslettering beginning in August, and, due to all the uncertainty mentioned in today’s essay, have decided to soft launch my break in July instead. I’ll send out one more newsletter next Friday, as usual, to wrap up June. Throughout July, I’ll continue sending paid emails every Monday, but no Friday emails. Then, beginning in August, I’ll pause the newsletter altogether and go radio silent. I’m not sure how long I’ll be paused, but I’ll come back again when I’m ready. Hopefully September or October will bring inspiration. I’d say keep up with me on social media while I’m gone, but I’m trying not to be there so much either, for the sake of my ever-rotting brain!
thrivin’
the skin is peeling off of my arms
and my lips and my hair is once again
unwashed
of course I can’t think
of anything meaningful
I can’t even take a shower
how old even am I at this point
all I want to do is watch disney channel
circa 2008 and have it resonate
the way it did when I was 12
before all of my dreams
had the chance to not come true
if I can’t be perfect why be anything at all :)
if I could be reborn
start everything over
make every decision differently
I don’t think it would fix anything
and yet I can’t help but feel
like it might fix everything
All I’ve taken this week are cat pics! Enjoy.
That’s all I have for you this week. I’ll see you again next week for one final newsletter before my hiatus. I think it’ll be a Moments of Beauty in June issue, just to leave you with some pretty things to ponder. Thank you in advance for your patience with me. Live, laugh, love ya.