The line between work and other things sometimes blurs

Hey, am I crazy, or would Wordle make a really good first sort when trying to figure out qualitative coding schemes?

the thing Ira Glass would just like to say to you with all his heart

There's a great series of videos of Ira Glass giving advice on storytelling up on YouTube. But for those of you who, like me, dislike video/audio information formats, I've transcribed the most striking bit below:

"All of us who do creative work, like, you know, we get into it. And we get into it because we have good taste. Do you know what I mean? So you've got really good taste, and you get into this thing, like, I don't even really know how to describe it, it's like there's a gap, for the first couple of years that you're making stuff, what you're making isn't so good, okay, it's not that great. It's really not that great. It's trying to be good, it has the vision to be good, but it's not quite that good. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, your taste is still killer. And your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you're making is kind of a disappointment to you? You know what I mean? Like you can tell that it's still sort of crappy.

"A lot of people never get past that phase. A lot of people at that point they quit. And the thing I would just like to say to you with all my heart, is that most everybody I know who does interesting, creative work, they went through a phase of years, where they had really good taste, and they could tell what they were making wasn't as good as they wanted it to be. They knew it felt [sic] short. And, you know, some of us can admit that to ourselves and some of us are a little less able to admit that to ourselves. But we knew, that, like, it didn't have that special thing that we wanted it to have.

"And the thing I would say to you is, everybody goes through that. And for you to go through it, if you're going through it right now, if you're just getting out of that phase, or if you're just starting off and entering into that phase, you gotta know that it's totally normal, and the most important possible thing you could do is do a lot of work.

"Do a huge volume of work. Put yourself on a deadline, so that every week, or every month, you know you're going to finish one story, do you know what I mean? Whatever it's going to be, like, you create the deadline. It's best if you have somebody who's waiting for work from you, somebody who's expecting a work from you. Even if it's not somebody who pays you, but that you're in a situation where you have to turn out the work. Because it's only by actually going through a volume of work that you're actually going to catch up and close that gap, and the work you're making will be as good as your ambition is."

This struck such a chord with me. Logically, I know it's nothing I haven't heard before, but the way he describes it is fresh - a gap between taste and ability - and God, if I could only consistently follow this, it would change my life. So far, no luck on the consistency, but a little inspiration never hurts.

Goin' to the County Registrar....

I just dropped off a bouquet of flowers at my County Registrar's office for them to give out to a couple today. There were couples everywhere getting licenses, getting interviewed by the press, getting married on the steps and in the chapel. The lady behind the desk said they started giving out licenses at 7 a.m., and everyone in the office was beaming. The news was full of interviews with people who were finally, after fifteen, twenty, thirty, fifty years of partnership, getting married. I cried, I was so happy, and I can't stop smiling. I woke up grumpy and out of it, but how can I be snarly in the face of this? Congratulations to all the couples getting married today; I could not be happier for you, and for all of us, that this is finally possible.

Conversations

Child to mommy (walking by my house): Mommy, why is the sun a star?
Mommy: What do you want it to be, cheese?

---

Squid (playing): Yayyyyy!
Me: Are you a happy guy?
Squid (squealing delightedly): Happy guyyyyy!
minutes pass...
Himself: Hey, guys!
Squid (now whiny, underfoot, and wanting food): Cooking? Eggs? Up please?
Me (attempting to redirect his attention): Can you tell Daddy how you're a happy guy?
Squid (whimpering, sobbing, clutching at my pant leg): Happy guyyyyy!

---

Woman in drugstore, to man: Say it again!
Man: You were right.
Woman (almost moaning with pleasure): One more time.
Man: I was wrong.
Woman: Oh, god, that feels amazing.

---

Me to Himself: [Squid]'s pyjamas were wet again this morning. I think it's just that he's drinking more with the hot weather.
Himself: Maybe we should staple a bunch of those silica gel packets around the crib.
Me: You mean to dessicate him?
Himself (eminently reasonable): Well, yeah!

---

Chatty man at gas pump (talking to me about gas prices): I just do what I told my ex-wife to do all three times she was in transition - laugh through it!
Me (thinking to myself): Three times?! That is the most indecisive transsexual I have ever heard of!
...
Me (finally getting it): I bet that won you points.
Chatty man: I did mention she was my ex-wife, right?

Art in motion

Here are two fascinating things I've found via internet friends and wanted to share. These are not-quite-but-almost new genres of art; strange and wonderful fusions, at least, and I'm totally captivated by what these people have done. I could never be that person, the person who dedicates their life to realizing a new creative pursuit, but that makes me admire it all the more.

First up, a man who is creating new forms of life. He sets his "creatures" free on the beaches to wander, and hopes that eventually they will be entirely self-sufficient. For what they can do, they are deceptively simplistic structures, and he's obviously been perfecting them for years. I am really touched by his protective and proud mien and his love for his creations; less like a God and more like a shepherd, though if the Bible is to be believed, the two aren't mutually exclusive.

Theo Jansen: The Art of Creating Creatures

Next, something more disturbing - if weird Bosch-esque images bother you, don't watch this, because there's a lot of emesis and decapitation. But it's graffiti animation, which is just totally amazing to see in action - his evolutionary infants and insects crawl and morph over what looks like a whole city block, followed by the faded ghosts of their passage, and it's mesmerizing, if a bit gruesome.

MUTO a wall-painted animation by blu

Department of missing the point entirely

I was sitting in the doctor's office the other day and idly picked up some fashion magazine or other.

There was an article in it that recommended twelve separate makeup products (I counted!) that one should purchase for use on one's eyes, lips, skin, cheeks, brows, and lashes in order to "achieve the nude look."

Um.

I do not think that word means what they think it means, is all I am saying.

Squidbits

Between posting last month's Squidbits late and the Squid's trip to Chicago with his Daddy this month, I've only got about two weeks' worth of Squid reports. And not a lot to add, honestly - all the same stuff as last month, only more of it. More words. More repeating. More activity. More more more. Himself called from Chicago this morning and said that he can now count to 19...not with all the right numbers and sequencing, of course, but his vocabulary has expanded beyond the 1-10. He has more sophisticated spatial and temporal concepts,too. I talked to him on the phone yesterday while I was driving back from meetings and he informed me that Lolo was working, and that he wanted him to come home. Um, not in so many words. It was more like, "Lolo coming!" (hopeful), "Carseat!" (the carseat is in Lolo's car), and then "Lolo working," (sad). Still, that's a whole conceptual set of ideas about other people's location and actions that he didn't have when he left.

He's fascinated with Baby [Squid] - pictures and movies - but the moment a few months back where he said "That's me!" must have been a fluke, because he identifies the little kid in the pictures as "Da [Squid]!" He also doesn't respond to his name, though that could be the standard toddler self-absorption rather than a lack of recognition. He looked at a picture of himself making "ooo" pursed lips and said, "MOOOOO!" which totally blew my mind - I thought, that's crazy that he has a concept of what his face looks like when he makes that noise! It took me another few days to realize that he's not translating the feel of the expression on his own face into the sound, he's recognizing it because he sees it on other people's faces when they make that noise.

So quick to believe that my child has sophisticated thought processes going on! In a recent survey of almost a hundred mothers of children aged 2-5, 70% rated their own children as above average, across the board. Hello, Lake Wobegon. My reaction on reading the story: But my kid really IS above average! *koff* I know that's not true, actually. He crawled, talked and walked a little later than many of his peers, and there are younger kids doing things he still hasn't explored; which is fine, I'm just saying, kids move at varying paces on a whole spectrum of activities and abilities. I do think, however, that when it comes to friendliness, mellowness, and general good nature that he is exceptionally wonderful. He's such a happy, cheerful little guy! I miss him.



Of course, he was happy and cheerful...until I spoke to him on video chat one day. And even then, he had a good time, playing and chatting away...until I said "bye bye." His poor little face just crumpled and he started sobbing "Mommy, Mommy" and reaching for the screen. Way to break my heart. I don't think we'll be doing video chat any more when we're apart - he's fine on the phone, but apparently video chat is traumatic. The fact that he had skipped a nap probably wasn't helping, but regardless. Poor bug. He's had a great time with his Lola and Lolo for the most part, going to the park and the children's garden and the zoo, but reminding him visually that I wasn't there turned out to be a bad move.

It's been good for me to have the time off, though. I've caught up on sleep. Caught up on my piled-high inbox. Completed a craft project or two. Gone to a concert. Visited friends and family. Done some long-neglected housework. Read some books. I watched some movies in which shit blows up and sewed the projects that had been sitting unfinished on my counter for the last month and a half. I desperately needed this re-set. Even working full-time is not enough to cast a pall over it.

And Saturday I went to my pre-school reunion. That's right, you heard me. Pre-school reunion. It was awesome. My preschool was a very special liberal preschool run by some friends of my parents - I attended from the time I was three through the second grade, at which point I transitioned to public school, so I had known some of these kids for seven years, and some for more, if they ended up at the same grade school or high school as I did. It was crazy to see them all as adults - crazy good. Our teachers came, and all the parents, and a lot of us brought the next generation, too. I recognized at least three-quarters of the attendees, even after all these years, and I still like them.

It's interesting, though the difference between solo socializing and socializing avec Squid. When Himself is gone for business for two weeks, and it's just me and the Squid, I'm lonely and tired by the end of it. I never used to get lonely when he traveled, before we had a kid. I enjoyed my time alone. I'm good company for myself. But being a parent is a different way of being in the world. I can't just turn inward, replenish my energy and center by thinking my me thoughts and doing my me stuff - I have to be outwardly focused almost all the time. It's really exhausting, and it's lonely because even though I'm focused on someone else, nobody is focused on me in a reciprocal way. All the energy and attention flows one way. Which is not to complain - that's parenting, that's how it's supposed to be - just to observe. Conversely, I haven't been lonely at all the past few weeks - I mean, I've done some socializing, but it didn't feel necessary, just pleasant. Solitude and loneliness are very different beasties.

A colleague of mine is big into personality typing, and for kicks I took a bunch of Myers-Briggs analogues online a while back, so I could talk about it with her. I ended up pretty much the opposite of what I'd expected - as a kid I was an...oh, hang on...ENTP, I think. As an adult, I came out with a whole hodgepodge of ratings, but skewed heavily introverted and always judging rather than perception-oriented. Er, it is possible that time has not improved me. In any case, my colleague explained the introversion/extroversion thing to me - it's not whether or not you like to socialize, it's where you get the core of your energy - do you need time alone to recharge, or does social interaction energize you? When you put it that way, it's pretty clear where I lie. This actually has helped me feel better about my parenting in a weird way, like my need for time to myself is more justified or something. I don't know.

This is also central, while I'm in full navel-lint analysis mode, to something that's been preying on my mind for a few years now, namely, the question of a second kidlet. We had always planned on two...until I got pregnant. And my resulting depression and anxiety tipped me all the way over into "oh hell no" until November, when I finally got the right medication and stabilized. Now I'm living in a weird limbo in which I'm terrified of the concept but not entirely ruling it out. I can't stop thinking about it. I checked with the ~iatrist, and I could stay on at least half of my meds with minimal risk through pregnancy and breastfeeding. The next door neighbor sent a picture of their three-year-old son holding their newborn, and my heart melted. The Squid would be such an awesome older brother! I want him to have a sibling! My best friend just had her baby, and I am so happy for her I could burst, and making tiny onesies and thinking thoughts about tiny wee persons, and I think, Babies are so awesome! I want one!

On the other hand, it took me more than a year and a half to fully recover from the first one. I already max out my sick leave each year with one kid's germs. I've already maxed out my budget with one kid's daycare. The Squid is (and his other caretakers confirm this) a remarkably even-keel, low-maintenance, low-anxiety guy, and I'm still afraid that I've maxed out my ability to parent successfully. Particularly as anyone else who came along, while no doubt wonderful in their own ways, would probably not be quite as independently okay as the Squid is - he's unusual that way. My social life is built around my ability to travel solo with him and wrangle him on my own while spending time with friends; I'm not sure how possible that would be with two. I hated being pregnant. And solo parenting 15-20% of the year with more than one, well. On the bad days, it would be really, really hard. I'm not sure I'm strong enough. I'm afraid I'm too selfish. I'm afraid I'll make a decision and it will turn out to be the wrong decision and it will be too late to change my mind.

So I think about it all the time. And as an awful side effect of my indecision, I've realized that I've sort of cut off contact with all my friends who have more than one kid. Not because I don't love them or because I have any kind of judgment about their choices, but because when I talk to them, it's all I can think about. I want to ask them about it endlessly. My anxiety ratchets up to a peak. This isn't fair to my friends, and I only recently realized that I was doing it, but now that I've twigged to it, it's clear. It's like being friends with someone who lives at the top of a cliff when you're terrified of heights or something. If they seem happy, I envy them for being better people than I am, and if they are having trouble, it is all my fears confirmed. I need to get over it, but I'm not sure how, until and unless I can some to some sort of decision or closure of my own. Dear friends with more than one, I'm sorry; it's not you, it's me.

On that vaguely negative and bizarre note, I should wrap this up - the Squid and Himself will be home in a few more days, and I have loads of half-finished projects to tie up before then. ("Relax!" Himself said, when I mentioned possibly hand-scrubbing the grout and re-sealing it while they were gone. "Get a massage!" I forgot to schedule the massage, but at least I didn't hand-scrub the grout. Much.) I am not really very good at relaxing, but I squeezed a little in in the past few weeks. I gave up on finishing Ulysses before Bloomsday, which means I will have to put off my planned tattoo for another year, but that's okay. I needed to read genre fiction and watch episodes of Dr. Who more than I needed to meet yet another arbitrary self-imposed deadline.

I'm not sure where I was going with that tangent. I always was bad at conclusions. Shutting up now.