Cirque du Malaise

For an allegedly creative person, I can be wildly unimaginative at times. When I first arrived at art school, way back in the day, it was challenging for me to wrap my mind around some of the more vague assignments that did not always involve parameters. In my first photography studio class, the teacher assigned us to "bring something to critique in a month." Not necessarily a color photograph or even a photograph at all — just: something. It was a photography class, so naturally, I made photographs. Other kids with seemingly more expansive imaginations made sculptures, or did performance art, or set things on fire and took pictures of them. My mind was blown in that first critique. Apparently, to be a photographer did not mean you had to take pictures!

That was my first clue that to be an artist does not mean to identify yourself with a traditional medium, or any medium at all.

Now, I'm a writer. But sometimes, the things I do to feed my writing have nothing to do with writing or reading or even thinking in words. I take one workday every month and play "creative hooky."

This last Friday, I took my hooky day and went to some of my favorite creative haunts in San Francisco: the bulk spice aisle at Rainbow Grocery, Flora Grubb, The Village Market. I ended up at the Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. This is San Francisco's  newest and most popular museum, so I had shied away from checking it out on a weekend. I'm glad I went during the week — although somehow the place was still full of sick children. I can't wait to someday have kids and bring them to museums when they are sick. What fun that is for everyone involved! Especially for the unwitting stranger who gets strategically seated next to your hacking, tubercular child in a locked, blackened planetarium show for a solid hour! Anyway, snotty attitude aside, the planetarium was the highlight of the museum, until, that is, I rounded a corner and discovered the jellyfishes.

I don't know about you guys, but jellyfish rock my world. They are one of the few things that make me lean away from Darwinism and toward Creationism. Not really, but still.... why did nature make jellyfishes so cool? When nature blows my mind like this, I find that I can get out of my head and let my imagination flourish. I was inspired to take this riveting 47-second movie and spend hours that night figuring out how to sync it to music with iMovie. I call this: Yellyfish — The Movie. I'm thinking of submitting it to Sundance.

(If the movie below is not loading for you, click here to watch it on YouTube.)

Okay, back to writing now.

I recently read this article: 9 productivity tips for working at home. I work at home, writing, all day. It’s not easy, and I’m always interested in how other people manage to pull it off. Some of these so-called tips were like, dur. But the whole time I was reading the blog post, I was shaking my head “no.” Maybe I'm weird (I am), but what works for other people doesn’t seem to work for me.

For me, every day consists of a lot of pacing, peeing, stalling, cleaning, spacing out and waiting anxiously for the mailman. To be fair, I’m equally if not drastically more unproductive in an office environment. But over the years that I’ve been a freelance writer, I’ve started to learn what really works for me. So if you are looking for my advice (trust me, you’re not), here are my tips, amended:

They say: Track your time by hand.

My actual calendar

I say: If “by hand” you mean the genius, multilayered, complex Excel spreadsheet and iCal calendar (with 7 different embedded calendar subjects) that I spend my time obsessing over instead of doing actual work, yup, check.

They say: Pair up with an accountability partner.

I say: Does my split personality count?

They say: Work with someone else in your home.

I say: Oh hahahahahahahaha that’s funny. Right Michael? Remember the last time we tried that? I’m pretty sure we watched all 3 seasons of Arrested Development in a week.

They say: Leave [the house].

I say: You sound like my therapist.

They say: Dress for work.

I say: I do this! Well, what I mean is, I take the time every morning to put a bra on (under my sweats that I already was wearing) and to put my hair in a ponytail. If it’s good enough for the mailman, it’s good enough.

They say: Reduce web clutter

I say: Twitter actually helps me concentrate, and if you don’t believe me, watch this:

They say: Psychologically reinforce self-discipline. Instead of getting up in the middle of a project, reward yourself with a snack once you’ve gotten it done.

I say: I can’t concentrate when I’m hungwee so that doesn’t really work for me. I’m more into fanatically monitoring my blood sugar all day. This is also why I can’t work from the library. I have to be within 30 seconds of food at all times.

They say: Answer phone calls and emails in batches.

I say: I wholeheartedly agree with this direct quote from the article: “There are few things more distracting than answering your phone in the middle of the project. After hanging up, your concentration is shot and you have to start all over again.”

And that’s why I don’t answer the phone. Pretty much, ever. The telephone is the scourge of humanity, in my opinion. I have a lot to say about how evil the phone is. But I don’t find email distracting at all. In fact, as a writer, it helps me stay in the flow of writing, sometimes.

They say: Reduce physical clutter.

I say: I throw shit out.

One of the downsides of being a writer with a naturally curious personality and a wee bit of an obsessive compulsive issue is that I know a real lot about some extremely useless things.

For instance, ask me anything in the world about percale sheets. I’m pretty much the world’s leading expert on threadcount versus weave, after spending the last three weeks shopping around for new linens. I can tell you, for instance, that percale gets thicker with time as the threads tighten up and bind together. And that a high threadcount does not necessarily make for nicer sheets. And that the best cotton, as far as sheets are concerned, comes from Egypt. And that the best flannel comes from Italy. And that everyone that works in the Macy’s sheet department at the Northgate Mall cares more about crystal meth than they do about sheets. And that, incidentally, the Northgate Mall is a good place to go if you want a glimpse at what hell is going to be like. (HINT: It smells like Drakkar Noir.)

Another thing I know a lot about: tea.

Once, I got in what I’ll politely classify a “discourse” with a barista in San Francisco because he erroneously told me that the mint tea was “decaf.” I felt like it was my moral responsibility to explain to him that, technically, mint tea is not “decaffeinated” because it never contained caffeine in the first place. In fact, mint tea is not tea at all but, rather what’s called a tisane. To actually be tea, it has to come from the camellia sinensis plant, and naturally contains caffeine, whether it is black, green, puehr, or oolong. (And I swear to Christ I did not even have to look this up on Wikipedia.) Otherwise, it’s a tisane, which is what all herbal teas are.

He wasn’t really all that pleased to be schooled on his job and I’m pretty sure he wanted to shoot me in the eye with his espresso spigot. In case you are thinking, I can see where he was coming from, don’t worry, I hate me too. Know-it-alls are real annoying. I try to tone it down.

I really do love tea, though. I’m very, shall we say, particular about tea. I once stormed out of a Whole Foods in L.A. because they only had Twinings tea available at the coffee bar. Not okay, Whole Foods. Twinings is diner tea. At least pony up the Mighty Leaf.

In an alternate life I would own a tea company. Instead, I own an imaginary spice company, SimpleBasic: www.simplebasic-sf.com Sometimes I concoct actual things and give them to my friends. Recently, I made two gigantic batches of two different kinds of tea:

They’re pretty delicious. I was feeling self-congratulatory.

But then I got turned on to this new company Tea Sparrow, and I was humbled. Tea Sparrow is a tea club. Every month, they send you a variety box of loose leaf teas in these sweet little reclose-able bags. I got my hands on the first box, and dove in to the Red Rocks, which is an herbal rooibus vanilla blend. I’m not usually a big rooibus fan, mainly because it reminds me of a certain South African tea “friend” I used to have who kind of ruined my life a little bit, but this rooibus may have actually turned my life back around. It was that good. The rest of the teas were equally star quality.

Signing up for this monthly tea delivery might have to be my splurge of the year. Unless you count the Italian percale sheets I just bought.  But, you know, those were more of a necessity than a splurge.

Anyway, I really want this new company to succeed because they are doing good things with tea and it’s a fun idea, so if you’re into tea, please check it out:

www.teasparrow.com

I think New Year’s resolutions should be achievable. In that spirit, here are ten things I definitely will not do in 2012:

1. Read one single more self-help book.
2. Consult any more healers.
3. “Get out more.”
4. Get up earlier.
5. Get better about talking on the phone.
6. Engage with passionate yogis in earnest conversations about the difference between “compassion” and “simply not having a sense of humor.”
7. Swear I’m gonna learn to walk in heels for the third year in a row.
8. Continue trying to popularize "pajama chic" on my daily jaunts to The Hole.
9. Explain to one single more vegan why I eat meat.
10. Prepare for a zombie invasion (sorry, Maynard).

And, a bonus list! Thanks to The Hairpin for this idea. This is my “reverse bucket list,” or, ten things I definitely do NOT want to do before I die:

1. Go to Burning Man.
2. Complete a triathlon.
3. Sojourn through India on a spiritual quest.
4. Get a boob job.
5. Get elected to office.
6. Shoot a gun.
7. Finally learn to sew.
8. Spend a little time in prison, just for the experience.
9. Be the life of a party.
10. Have a 3-way.

This is by no means a comprehensive list.

Oh, here’s one thing I will be doing, at least in January:

The River of Stones 30-Day Writing Challenge. Join me?

You can choose from the following thoughtful and hand-selected Christmas presents:

If you're single:

FUN HOLIDAY RECIPES FOR SELF-SUFFICIENT SINGLES

(Oh, McSweeneys)

If you don't drink but you get real bored with water:

REALLY HEALTHY WINTER WARMERS

(Thanks, Mag of Yoga)

If you're secretly into the Swedish pop singer Robyn and you have an Attainable Celebrity Crush on comedien Taran Killam:

SNL CAST MEMBERS RECREATE A ROBYN MUSIC VIDEO AT 4:30 AM

(Although you might want to watch the original first)

You're welcome.