Cirque du Malaise

Yellyfish - The Movie

outsideeye — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 22:08:35 PST

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.

Why I Won’t Be Joining Your Book Club

outsideeye — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 11:42:51 PST

Life is short, and I have a long list of books I want to read. I want to read The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, because I really loved the movie Hugo and I’m curious about the creative mind behind it. I want to read The $64 Tomato, which my brother Elia recommended, because I find the Slow Food movement so compelling and noble. Just because I find the titles intriguing, I want to read Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism by Chogyam Trungpa and The Lexicographer’s Dilemma by Jack W. Lynch. And then there's every single book on last year’s New York Times 1OO Notable Books List.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed about the limited time I have to do all this reading. And don’t get me started on the books I want to read again.

I understand why it would seem like I’m a natural fit to join your book club. I’m a writer; I read a lot; I’m passionate about books; I have opinions. But there is one crucial reason I’ll never join your book club:

Because I don’t want to read the same books you want to read.

And I’m not willing to compromise at all. Reading, you see, is one area of my life that is totally mine. I do it alone, on my own time, when I want, where I want, how I want. I often read out loud. I read in bed. I read when I am procrastinating work. I read when I’m lazing about in my red down sleeping bag on a rainy Sunday. I read on beaches in Koh Samui and in yurts in Big Sur. What I don’t do is read for the sake of socializing.

I’m an introvert, and if I have my way, I spend as little time as possible having actual human conversation. I interact with the world largely through reading and writing. I don’t even like to talk on the phone! Don’t get me wrong; I have friends. And I like to see them in person… sometimes.

But that reminds me, I do have my own idea for a book club, and it goes like this:

You read whatever you want. It doesn’t even have to be a book. It can be a National Geographic article or the back of a cereal box.
We have a potluck dinner. You bring the lasagna. I’ll pick up some Coco Bliss at the Whole.
We each take turns talking about the book we’re reading. Everyone gets to stand up and synopsize their story for 3 minutes. No one is allowed to be boring.
Discuss!

I’ve been wanting to do this, but because I’m an introvert, I’m not great at planning parties. Anyone else want to take this on? Please invite me!

Playing Creative Hooky

outsideeye — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 11:03:54 PST

I’ve written a lot about being a big fan of the Julia Cameron book The Artist’s Way. I’ve followed this 12-week program several times in my life, and it has really made a difference in the way I see myself and my potential for creativity. The last time I “did” The Artist’s Way project, I blogged about it every week. You can see the archive here.

One of my favorite things about The Artist’s Way project is that you make a creative date with yourself every week. This is a habit I have tried to carry over into my life as a permanent fixture. Not every week, necessarily, but regularly. This year, I decided to take one workday off every month and play creative hooky.

This is how my first creative hooky day of 2012 went:

First, I went to the Mill Valley Library and read magazines.

My intention was to find new magazines to submit my writing to. However, I will admit that O! Magazine sucked me in for a while. I hate it when I am an obedient example of the target market. But I did also (re) discover the McSweeneys publication The Believer, which you betcha I will be subscribing to from now on. I particularly liked this piece: Hatorade - about the phenomenon of hateful internet commentary. Been there.

While I was at the library, I checked out a free pass to the De Young Museum in San Francisco.

(Yet another reason the library system rocks the house.) If you haven’t been to the De Young in Golden Gate Park, definitely check it out. It’s my favorite museum in San Francisco. I particularly love that it doesn’t seem to have a theme. It’s not, like “modern art” or “heritage art” or “Asian art” or anything like that. It’s just a mishmash of cool stuff. The main exhibit right now is classic Venice masterpieces (oil paintings). The next one is going to be a Jean Paul Gaultier exhibit. My favorite things at the De Young this time:

The Art of the Anatolian Kilim (Ottoman empire rugs from like 400 years ago)

A very cool mobile sculpture with accompanying shadow art. (More on this.)

Stopped at The Village Market in San Francisco for a mocha.

And while I was there, bought some very expensive rice with bamboo powder in it. I don’t know; I’m a sucker for things that should be really cheap but are actually exorbitantly expensive. $7 for rice? Sign me up! But it was actually quite delicious.

And last but not least, went to pottery class.

The perfect way to top off a day of 100% creative activities. Ah, good for the soul.

Oh also, you guys, because I talk about The Artist’s Way so goddamned much, someone from their publishing team recently gifted me a free trial of their brand new web site service and iPhone app, My Artist’s Way Toolkit. The intersection of creativity and technology is something I’m really passionate about, so I was very excited to try this out.

It’s pretty cool. Whether you are interested in making a commitment to the 12-week Artist’s Way program, or just want a place where you can jot down ideas, receive Artist’s Way journaling prompts and “Artist Date” ideas, and feel like you are really doing something for your inner artist and still being a cool, hip, technical sort, check it out. And they gave me a code you can use to try it for free for one month. Go here and type in: AWTOOLKIT

Make me proud!

Some Thoughts on Productivity Tips for Working at Home

outsideeye — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 09:56:50 PST

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.

Things I Know Too Much About

outsideeye — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 11:25:28 PST

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

Potential Titles for the Great American Novel That I Might Write Someday

outsideeye — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 11:18:51 PST

I had a small piece published by The New York Times Room For Debate column about yoga and narcissism. I was really excited about it at first, but then I started to worry that this is going to be the pinnacle of my writing career. So, I decided it’s time to get serious about writing a book. First step, of course, is a name. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. And I can’t seem to narrow it down. Can you guys help me?

Thank You For Confirming Our Delusions

(Thanks to erstwhile graphic designer Matthew Teague Miller)

. . . . .

The Truth About My Lunch

(Inspired by a particularly bad customer service experience at hippie hangout Cafe del Sol in Mill Valley)

. . . . .

That’s What the Incense is For

(Inspired by Six Feet Under and some dead peonies I just couldn't throw away)

. . . . .

Does Not Play Well With Others

(Inspired by my personality)

. . . . .

Languish & Flounder

(An unfortunately apt summary of my life)

. . . . .

I Like The Dirty Stuff

(A memoir about pottery)

. . . . .

See How You Are?

(My all time favorite memoir title was already taken - Why I’m Like This - so this is my runner-up choice in the category of blaming other people for my problems)

. . . . .

The Attention Seekers

(A dissy memoir about my time in the yoga world)

. . . . .

Histrionical

(This one is self-explanatory I think, and my current favorite)

. . . . .

In the meantime, I decided to start a page on my blog to Virgoneurotically keep track of the books I read this year. Check it.

The Ecology of Self... Coming Soon!

outsideeye — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 09:20:59 PST

I sometimes write about food and even occasionally post recipes, because eating locally, organically and sustainably is something I find really compelling and wholesome. (Although, just to be clear, I don’t care what or how you eat. Promise!) So I am pretty excited to officially announce that I will be co-leading a retreat at White Lotus (in Santa Barbara) next May with Christy Brown:

Christy Brown is an old friend of mine who I occasionally collaborate with to lead retreats where she teaches what she is amazing at: yoga, mindfulness and just how to be a generally decent and lovely person, and I lead reflective journaling sessions and try not to act terribly surly toward people.

Helge Hellberg is basically a rock star in organic/local/sustainable farming circles, working hard to bring us back to the days when farmers got respect and we ate according to what was natural for the season and the climate in which we live. What this means, in a nutshell: don’t eat watermelon in January if you live in New England.

The beautiful thing about shopping at farmer’s markets is that you are automatically eating local and seasonal food. And the even cooler thing is that you just might discover some pretty fabulous stuff that you never even knew grew near you. I recently signed up for a bi-weekly organic produce delivery from Farm Fresh To You. Every other Tuesday, I get a box of delicious surprises on my doorstep. And, thank Christ, there are often no mushrooms in it.

If this subject matter interests you, I highly recommend the memoir Animal Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. Or anything by Michael Pollan, of course, but most notably Omnivore’s Dilemma.

Anyhoodle, if you would like to sign up for this retreat (please come! I was just kidding about being surly!) visit my web site and click on ye’ol’ Paypal link. Full details there. And beautiful photos of White Lotus below.

Santa Barbara is warm and sunny and will be epic in May.

We'll stay in these adorable yurts. I deign to call them magical.

This is the community table where we will share our local, organic, fucking delicious meals.

This is a place you can steal off and read.

This is a peaceful-looking Buddhist thingie.

I don't know what this is, but I think it's pretty.

Le ocean. Speaks for itself.

Non-New-Years-Resolutions for 2012

outsideeye — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 20:23:02 PST

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

Read one single more self-help book.
Consult any more healers.
“Get out more.”
Get up earlier.
Get better about talking on the phone.
Engage with passionate yogis in earnest conversations about the difference between “compassion” and “simply not having a sense of humor.”
Swear I’m gonna learn to walk in heels for the third year in a row.
Continue trying to popularize "pajama chic" on my daily jaunts to The Hole.
Explain to one single more vegan why I eat meat.
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:

Go to Burning Man.
Complete a triathlon.
Sojourn through India on a spiritual quest.
Get a boob job.
Get elected to office.
Shoot a gun.
Finally learn to sew.
Spend a little time in prison, just for the experience.
Be the life of a party.
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?

Merry Christmas All Y'All

outsideeye — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 12:24:16 PST

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.

When In Doubt, Throw It Out

outsideeye — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 12:37:14 PST

I was talking to a friend who needed help editing a paper. She said she was having a hard time getting the wordcount down to fit the requirements of her assignment. I said, hand it over, because if there is one thing I am good at, it’s throwing away words.

Other things I am good at:

Cleaning out closets (my own or yours)
Giving things away that I actually really like just because someone else said “hey that’s nice”
Washing glasses before you were done drinking that thing
Not finishing my food
Breaking up with boyfriends

Hmm. I am sensing a pattern here. One might say that I have a fear of commitment, but actually, that’s not it. I have a fear of garbage (see #5). I’ve always had a thing about not wanting to accumulate too much stuff. I like to know that the amount of stuff I have is manageable. I live in a very small cottage with hardly any storage. My closet (my one single closet) holds less clothes than most of my friends have in the trunk of their car. When I buy a new pair of shoes, I have to get rid of an old pair.

It’s not that I’m not materialistic. I am. I love things.

It’s more that I’m fickle. I like to think of it as “Buddhist.” I try not to get too attached.

Along those lines, I have an ambivalent relationship with the concept of owning books. On the one hand, I am a writer who gets paid for writing, so it would seem reasonable that I would believe in supporting other writers by buying their books. On the other hand, my extreme aversion to accumulating things (and to excess in general) has led me to a philosophy of sharing books.

I used to collect books as a testament to my readerly accomplishments. For many years I lugged boxes and boxes of books around every time I moved. After about my 4^th cross-country move, I finally took a cold hard look at my collection of books and what it stood for. Did it stand for my convictions about reading and supporting writers? Did it stand for my adoration of storytelling? Or was it simply an ego-based testament to my reading accomplishments?

The truth is, I rarely read a book twice, and if I do, it’s decades later. There are too many books to read and this life is too short. (There are exceptions to this rule, as there are to every rule.) Also, I really like to support the library system.

In the end, I got rid of all my books. Except, you know, my Chronicles of Narnia and my Little Prince and my Maggie B and my Julia Cameron books and a few others. I ran into an old friend yesterday, and we had this very same conversation about books. He said that he always keeps his books, and has shelves and shelves of them. He said: “Books are treasures.”

That they are, my friends. That they are. But for me, they are treasures whose energy I love to pass along.