I’m not interested in expansive thinking today. Nor am I interested in self improvement right now. I’m barely in the mood to write this, but here I am – writing. It’s summer. It’s July. I currently live where the weather is summer all year round, making the summer months just another season and not the magical thing it can be if you suffer through winter’s brittle clutch first. Yet, I don’t care if I can’t enjoy it the way I used to – the way it used to be when I was a child and could do whatever the hell I wanted for two months.
Nope. For now, I want to go to the pool. I want to go to the water. I want to smell classic Coppertone suntan oil (yes…oil) and tan until the hairs on my forearm turn blonde like they use to when I was a little girl. Like they used to when I used to have hair on my forearms. (Where did they go?) I want to wake up in the morning and eat a bowl of cornflakes and watch television without guilt. I want to go to the library and find books I’d like to read for the summer. I’d like to watch the sun hit the walls of our living room and listen to the clock play Westminster chimes at the top of the hour. I want to watch repeats of Emergency after playing pretend with the neighborhood boys, wearing cut off jeans, tee-shirt and converse sneakers as the daylight dims and the Good Humor truck bells start jangling and come nearer and nearer as we each run home to quickly grab change.
I don’t want to think about the future today. I don’t want to hit my personal goal marks. I don’t want to try and write that Spec Script or even work on the book I’ve put aside for the past few months because my brain is void of ideas and concepts. I don’t want to beat myself up for not having a productive day today or maybe even tomorrow. I don’t care about what my next turn will be and where I’m going or how little money I have when I want so much more.
I don’t care if I counted “I” over 30 times in this blog post, making “I, Me, Mine” seem so “I, Me…” narcissistic. I don’t care if nobody reads this. I don’t care if the Mets lose. I don’t care if ‘Rectify’ didn’t get nominated for an Emmy. I don’t care if nobody doesn’t care. I don’t care if that phone call didn’t come yet, or that email wasn’t sent yet. Or movers and address changes and New York and dog parks and Zipcars and trip to Bear Mountain with my California hound and how he will react to his first taste of snow. I don’t care now. I don’t care. Yet.
I’m letting it all go. I’m thinking of light and peace and the sky and the planets above. I’m thinking of summertime and autumn. I’m letting the feelings go. I’m letting all thoughts go.
(I wrote this post this morning on MarieForleo.com in reply to a discussion about the importance of art in our lives. This comment felt like a blog post. I’d like to share it here. I hope you find some good in its message.)
Art is essential in allowing humanity to connect spiritually.
I use art to motivate my writing and the writing of others. Each facet of art, especially painting and sculpture (for me), can ignite a bevvy of stories for the world to see. It can inspires other and can change lives. It can shift a mind.
Street Art/Berlin Wall. Wende Museum. Los Angeles.
Music is also a profound inspiration. Artists who write life affirming and soul searching lyrics have made me the writer I am today. They connect feelings into words. Music and art makes us feel less alone in this world.
I think the one piece of art that changed my life (other than music), was Georges Seurat’s painting “Sunday on the Island of Grande Jatte” and the musical play it inspired. James Lapine wrote the book for “Sunday in the Park with George” and Stephen Sondheim created the most glorious, heart wrenching, moving score to reflect the concept of how a painting can tell a story. How each visage, each person painted were really humans with beating hearts and broken lives painted in dabs of light. The way the painting comes to life with humanity and the love story woven in – showed me how art can be a powerful reflection of our lives. In fact, the entire show has specific lyrics that support this entire theme.
‘Sunday in the Park with George’
Add the wonderful musical ‘Fun Home’ – which shows painful, universal themes in a beautiful, touching way – and we have continued proof that the arts tell the story of our lives.
Cast of ‘Fun Home’. Photo by Christaan Felber. The New Yorker.
Don’t let anybody, or any negative voice in your head tell you otherwise. We need more art. We need creation.
As good ol’ Steve wrote in “Sunday…”
“Look at what you want,
Not at where you are,
Not at what you’ll be-
Look at all the things you’ve done for me
Opened up my eyes,
Taught me how to see,
Notice every tree…”