Inspirations

I know I talked recently about being inspired by bad art, but that doesn’t mean I’m not inspired by good art too.

I want to mention some awesome things that have been inspiring me. BLOGGY STYLE.

Jenny the Bloggess and her funny ass descriptions of social panic and confidence wigs. Oh my god, I love her so much I want to show you her picture:


And speaking of social panic, I love this post over at Mommy Melee about freaking out at BlogHer. I love it when people are honest about their struggles with high pressure social situations. It’s always a surprise when you hear it from someone else.

You’re like, “what? But you have your shit together and you’re so articulate!” And they’re like, “what are you talking about, I’m having a panic attack right now!” And you’re like, “wow, that’s the classiest panic attack I’ve ever seen!”

I think that’s a beautiful thing for us neurotic introverts to aspire to: classy panic attacks. It worked for Greta Garbo.


Other inspiring things:

Shiva Nata, this crazy kind of yoga I heard about through Havi Brooks over at Fluent Self. I’ve been practicing it most mornings for the last five months (give or take a few weeks where I got frustrated and dropped it altogether) and though it is many times bewildering and seemingly pointless, I totally credit it with getting my mind out of a dark place post-NYC in August, and changing some of my habits without me even thinking about it. Of course I still have a lot of bad habits I’d like to get rid of, so that I can be a gleaming golden ice bodied icon of perfection. But my brain probably realizes that would actually be horrible. And honestly: the number one habit that trips me up lately is Perfectionism. Oh perfectionism, you cold-eyed, diabolical taskmistress. That is a topic for another day.

But let’s move on and talk about a lovely taskmistress: Dooce! This was the first blog I ever got hooked on. Whenever I check in on Dooce, I feel like I’m catching up with my cousin or something. And more often than not there is something that makes me laugh out loud, and then my husband looks over and I say, “Dooce poured bacon fat into a plastic bowl and melted it!” and he gets that concerned/horrified look on his face that means he thinks I’m spending too much time on the internet (he does not believe in using the internet for anything except finding artist residencies in Berlin. I think he thinks Dooce is my imaginary friend. Which... wouldn’t be all that far off, I guess, since we certainly aren’t real life friends). Anyway, I just love Dooce.

Jeff Hylton Simmons’ internet radio station. I just met this dude a few months ago and of course because this is Portland it turns out he knows every third person I know. He’s got broadcasts from people all over the world. Big dreams, big ideas. It's awesome.

And one more thing before I say goodnight, dear internet: the ultimate inspiration. I can remember my brother sitting rapt, 4 years old, in front of the TV watching this performance of Michael Jackson on the Grammys in 1988. I DON'T CARE, I CAN'T GET CYNICAL ABOUT MICHAEL JACKSON! I just can't.