Confessions of a stress junkie, overachiever, perfectionist, control freak, doer: I do not thrive on stress much to my chagrin and the disappointment of everyone around me who thoroughly believes that stress is what makes me tick. I am stressed because I believe I can accomplish the impossible in the most efficient way in a minimal amount of time and I set out to prove that every single day. My own to do list is…
Driving back to New Orleans from Houston on the I-10, I crossed over the Henderson Swamp, which around late afternoon, was intensely beautiful. The water was so glassy it mirrored the setting sun, and the cypress trees looked like prehistoric human forms rising from the water.
I have issues with victimhood, thoroughly believing that if you think you are a victim you become one. I realize that because I proceed in life as if everyone likes me, I don’t encounter too many bad exchanges out and about. I notice with people who are paranoid, a lot of times, people are out to get them.
I was driving home from Houston yesterday, after attending the Madonna Sticky and Sweet concert with Flower and friends and listening to NPR when a story came on about a man who dresses like Superman. A week ago, when I was getting a massage to take care of my back ache I told L that things had been so hectic lately, I was in the mood to channel Wonder Woman and imagine myself in wonderous…
Stress takes on many forms – anxiety dreams, short temper, tight and rigid body. There is a way out. Hooping!
Let’s see start the day with a nervous breakdown, let that carry you through every detail of the day as it progresses, then finally capture two solid hours of productive work that is not fraught with trying to get online, stay online, send an email, receive an email, and take breather and run to see one of Prospect 1’s installations in City Park at Popp’s Fountain. Here is Loca enjoying it with me. These are…
As soon as she got out of the cab, we whisked Flower to the Ogden to go hear the second half of Mary Gauthier. It was standing room only when we walked in the door, and Mary’s rich vocals were already in play singing Christmas in Paradise, one of my favorites. She looked so petite, smaller than I imagined but her voice carried the three story height of the Ogden, reaching up to the people…
I was moping on the couch, trying to get work done the other day when this email flashes across my screen from the Ogden After Hours – Mary Gauthier is there tonight. The wonder of living here. Flower gets in late, we’ll start her visit with some good music.
Yesterday, I spent all day studying different areas that inform media and I realized how often it is easy to suffer from tunnel vision. I’ve been sitting in the same bath water for so long, it’s gotten polluted. As a fiction writer, I always abided by the notion that all things inform your work – art begets literature begets architecture begets dance begets music begets just about everything – even the food you eat, which…
I had this surreal moment this morning coming out of the park and seeing the mayor of the hood. I remembered a dream he was in last night where we were sitting in his kitchen eating waffles. I was at the corner and the streetcar was coming, and I saw him to the right with his dog, and then a nun appeared out of nowhere and was crossing in front of us. That wasn’t the…