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Saturday, July 21, 2012

Touch Me Touch You

"Introverting is great, but . . ." started a text I sent today.

I've been extraversion-tearing since moving to LA. But this last month has been a(n) (needed) introspection bender. In-verting is my natural bent but one I've gotten away from for the sake of variety . . . and life advancement. It's hardly veiled that introversion is often looked upon as a disorder or a dysfunction in Western society.

Beach Days
© 2012 Jennifer Anise
Matter-of-factly, it isn't. Recharging from within--it's just another way of being.

At the same time, my aforementioned text ended with ". . . but I miss other humans." And that is not a contradiction.

When I (re)started this blog, I wasn't sure what it was going to be about. I try and tend to write generically, less personally. Because I don't want this to be a shiftless pool of sputterings from my inner world . . . or my bleeding heart erupting all over the place. I.e. Talking but not saying anything.

Friday, July 20, 2012

The End of E

Weeki Wachee spring, Florida
Toni Frissell, 1947, Public Domain

We were stories
pockets

We were stones
on a shoal

Ever floating, ever sinking
Under tide of our patrols
We were pieces
Familiar
We were actors
We were wholes

Thursday, July 12, 2012

To Live & Fuck Up in LA

"I am seeking. I am striving. I am in it with all my heart." -Vincent van Gogh

I've been in LA nearly 9 months now. And it's been a good time: open, productive, inviting. I've loved LA. I love LA. It took 3 visits to stick, but it feels like home. And during these 9 months, I have made an unseemly number of blunders. One after another. My time in LA has essentially been a long series of wonder and fuck-ups layered together.

9 months: a dense, condensed fish bowl experience of "normal" time. Almost like a college "year." Slightly unreal but also full of the hard lessons--the ones you need to learn.

I have made mistakes on the job, with friends, with others, and mostly with myself.

On the Wall
© 2012 Jennifer Anise
And that's life for you. Missteps. Good times. Change. Growth. Recognizing your hindering patterns. Deciding to change (them).
I've mentally chalked these 9 months as a gestation period, in the hopes that I'm about to emerge fully (re-)formed. An Athena springing forth from Zeus's head. Jennifer 3.0.

Tuesday, July 03, 2012

Full Disclosure: I Edit

I have said (to people who've met me) that I am more of a storyframer than a storywriter. I can see what's lacking or superfluous in a framework, but I'm not generally the story creator or originator. I am a thread finder, a beat meter. I see patterns and paths, consequences, trajectories. I sense rhythm. This is what makes me a good editor. I edit by nature.

Given that, part of why I don't like to publish things is because I am inclined to edit what I have created. After some time has passed and your spirit has changed, it's hard not to want to tinker. I've long been one to walk away and not revisit what I've created in the past because of this. Immutable makes me uncomfortable. Scrutiny can be never-ending.

So, as a disclaimer, I *have* recently edited a few of the early posts here because I simply never liked them. [I'm still on the fence about several others, but I've forced myself not to reread. The past is the past.] For the sake of transparency, there was a full disclosure of the few edits below, but I can't imagine who'd need to know or see that. This will likely not be repeated. [But if it is, I will again note it.]



FYI.

Edited to add: I am aware that every edit republishes a post for newsreader readers. All I can say to that is "Sorry."

Monday, July 02, 2012

Cocooning & Why I Write

"Be silent, or say something better than silence." -Pythagoras

It often takes me eons to write something, from idea to tangible product, because writing like editing, I find all-consuming. It takes a lot to get to a space of wanting to formally write, to compile and effuse, to revisit the past when trying to live in the present.1 Sometimes, the inspiration is lost before it can be explored. In effect, those tableaux are abandoned.

It is always there though. It's in my nature and in my blood. I could quite literally write all day, every day. I have favored staying busy with work and the outside world to counter that sort of eternal internal existence. I made a choice. *I* had to choose.

Malibu Paddle Surfing
© 2012 Jennifer Anise
But it remains. It is always there, lingering. The need to write. The sense of obligation, to myself, to get it out. For me.

So, while I continue to mull over this misfit love exposition I've been ruminating on for 6 weeks, I've discovered reinforcement in aphorisms. Culled here (mostly from tinybuddha) and related to things I have written before.