The C train will be making express stops to 59th street. Good. Don’t have anywhere to be in particular but it’s nice to know I’ll be getting there faster. So I wanted to make a list. Yes another list. You know how I love them. Lots to do and it’s my day off so here we go.
1. Clean apartment
2. Check ReadWave.com messages and upload appropriate submissions to the travel theme.
3. Illustrate all eleven stories in my short story collection (ambitious I know).
4. FaceTime mom
5. Finish reading Roof Alexander’s short story collection They Always Leave
6. Start reading Fight Club (I traded my coworker for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas so I have to at least attempt to read it before I give up and he devours his in like a day)
7. Go to the bank
8. Pay rent (ugh)
9. Catch up on Judge Judy
10. Go for a lovely jog in the park
11. Post a karaoke photo to my bar’s Instagram
12. Spring clean my Twitter account
13. Mail something to a friend.
Going to go do a little shopping for my bar. I want to bring some newness to the old joint. I won’t tell you what it is, only to keep a mystique about the whole thing for no reason at all. I will tell you though that I’ve wanted to replace this thing since my first day behind the bar over two and a half years ago. I’m headed down to the restaurant supply distract on Bowery, I don’t know if that’s what it’s called but that’s what I think of it as. I don’t even know if they’ll have what I’m looking for, I did some calling around earlier and was either told “I don’t know” or was put on hold and forgotten about. I may have to get it online but putting clothes on and going outside sounds like a nice thing to do before 5pm so I thought why not go peruse. If they don’t have what I’m looking for than I’m going to go on a little shopping spree and find things I know we need at the bar anyway. I don’t usually indulge in shop therapy but I’m going to keep the receipts and expense it. Plus I know the other bartenders will appreciate the new stuff. Why am I telling you this? Because I haven’t written a story yet. And at the end of the day I do get joy out of doing things for that bar. My little love dive.
I don’t know man. I think I’m just going to quit drinking, quit smoking and quit men altogether. For a month. Or a few weeks. Starting tonight. Or sometime next week. I just. I don’t think I’m cut out for this shit. I used to be I think. Probably more so before my big break up than I am now. That’s exactly how I feel too. Broken up. Compartmentalized. Every shard radiates some different emotion or disjointed conviction. Some of me is on point. Growing. Learning. Succeeding. And some of me is out to get me. I’m sorry guys. I think it’s time to focus a little bit more on me. It sucks to, it’s Spring. I should be gearing up for a good time. But guys are confusing. I’m confusing. This is all very fucking confusing and I really don’t know what I want so no I do not want to go for a drink with you. But you still wanna be friends?
So I owe a lot of people out there art work. And by owe I only mean that they asked me for art work and I said I would give them something. Weirdest thing. Whenever someone asks me for art I have every intention of whipping something up for them and then I put it off for what in some cases turns out to be years. Though I never forget.
Anyway way I’ve decided not to go a week without having some sort of creative project going, particularly one with a purpose. After a rigorous week of #TwitterFiction Festival drawing and writing, (which was awesome by the way) I want to keep the momentum going. So I’ve decided to knock out as many of those art pieces I owe people as I can and send them off. One of them is for my mom by the way.
Well another reason why I’m doing that touches on something I could write many a blog posts about. I want to give away my art for not necessarily the last time but at least for the last time in a while. I love giving my art away. It’s usually relatively free and effortless to make and people enjoy it but I’ve also been offered money for my art many times and not taken it. Don’t get me wrong I am still a firm believer in giving away art for charity and even just to make someone smile. But it’s time to start getting paid as well and I’m looking forward to the new venture of simply trying to be a paid artist in a rat race that I’ve never been much interested in. I’m looking forward to learning a hell of a lot. And I’m looking forward to out smarting the smarties and carving out my own niche, my way.
I came to the cafe to reset. Yesterday kicked off the #TwitterFiction Festival and it was awesome. Here’s what I’ve learned so far: being a featured contributor makes it difficult to keep up with other people’s stories. Now that I write this I recall when I first stumbled on to this oh so familiar hashtag. I originally thought, oh cool, I can follow some of these writers’ stories from beginning to end. I did not at the time foresee the project I would end up with myself and especially how challenging it is. I mean on paper it doesn’t seem so hard: write and illustrate fifty 140 character stories in five days. And it really isn’t hard. I do that every day in some way or another. It’s just the regimen I’m not used to. But I do like it. My favorite part so far is actually writing and drawing according to other tweeters’ prompts. I thought that would be the most difficult aspect but in a way it’s easier and a lot more fun. Only thing is I’m a little behind. Yup. Surprise, surprise. I only busted out three of the ten I thought I was going to yesterday. Excuse time: I did work until 5am yesterday. Went to sleep at 6am and tired to wake up to get started at 9am. By the time I actually got into my groove it was already time to get ready and head out to the live event hosted at Subculture. But there really is no excuse. So today before happy hour,which I start working at 4pm, I have to produce seventeen of these stories just to catch up with my personally imposed quota. It’s 10:45am and I’m at the cafe instead of the drawing table. Why? Because I chased the Dark Horse at the live event last night and at the after party too. That’s just wine by the way. So yes, before I get started I’m going to reset here in the same comfortable little coffee shop I’m used to, with the same bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel I love, with the same coffee and chocolate chip cookie combo I adore and the same French cafe pandora station the barista always plays with the horribly intrusive commercials. And then it’s back to the drawing board.
Seriously it’s Monday. I love Mondays by the way, don’t hate me. It’s just I have to kick in to gear. Really get into that first day of the week grind. Really produce something, learn something, get dirty and involved and then showered up and and presentable again. Then dirty again. I don’t know I just gotta ugh… Make something! I just. I just. I have to create. Angst! Deep breath. Go do some laundry. You’ll be ok.
More and more this blog is starting to feel like my personal organizer. I don’t mind that. There was a time when I used to procrastinate blogging. Which in retrospect seems so dumb because I effectively turned a self built outlet for creativity into an online assignment generator. Lately though I’ve rediscovered the joys of procrastination through blogging. Wonderful really. Anyways you know I’m a little scatter brained, or a lot. But it is all spinning around up there, the good ideas along with the bad. But in order for anything to emerge from reverie into fruition I have to stick a butterfly net up into that iridescent mess of an imagination and see what I can catch sometimes. Though the really great ideas do flutter out of there own will. Usually my net is my sketch pad or note book. There’s always one on me. But I’m trying to be published again. Whatever that means to you. To me it simply means that other people have access to your work. So I’m trying to be published right? Whether it’s on a napkin passed to a friendly customer at the bar, on a world wide platform for sharing 140 character stories or in a collection of stories available on Amazon, I just want to be fucking published. To share for a while. Because believe you me there is a sleeping recluse in there somewhere and right now the extrovert is awake and voracious so we have to get out of his way and let him create and share, create and share, create and share. Create and share.