My 2011 Goals

I’m not much of a cook.  I never really cared to cook before and anything I make I typically burn.  In fact I grew up on burnt food because my mom was also notoriously great at burning food.  I think it’s genetic (p.s. I love burnt toast); however, I have finally decided it is time to learn.  Something about coming home and cooking after a long workday calms me.  Well, for the most part.  Cooking can be stressful and I don’t have the timing thing down just yet but I’m working on it.  And I find that the more cooking I do the better I get. I don’t dread the grocery store as much as I used to (a fun childhood pasttime was grocery temper tantrums…grocery stores bored me) and sometimes I even enjoy buying new vegetables and throwing them together in a delicious bouquet.  I try and make it fun for myself.  Something about successfully chopping vegetables—without chopping off a finger— and throwing the colorful concoction together makes me feel like a sautéing savant. I love it! As a new year approaches I get more concrete ideas of what I want to accomplish in the coming year.  As always I put too much on my plate and don’t get to accomplish everything, but I hope that I will at least begin some of my goals. 

Goal 1:

Picture from: http://analienparisienne.wordpress.com

I received from my darling mother a fabulous book.  It’s called Lunch in Paris A Love Story with Recipes by Elizabeth Bard.  It follows this woman through her romantic and professional escapades while also discussing food.  It has a Julie and Julia feel but it has more of a focus in French life and love, which I absolutely adore. I love anything Parisian. I dream of going…but that’s for another post.  As you could figure out from the name, the book also throws in recipes from teas to desserts to dinners that the main character may have enjoyed on her first date or after a frisky romp with a sexy Parisian. It’s definitely one of those books that you must read with a side of cheese, crackers, wine, and pretty much anything you can get your hands on because it makes you drool, though no drool marks have been made just yet. But I always dreamt of writing a book similar to this, but instead of recipes I would travel through Europe, seek adventure and add my own artwork to the mix.  I think it could be a fun and unique approach.  I just need to get to Europe first.  So I decided that until my European excursion happens I should follow in this character’s footsteps. I am going to try all the recipes within the book, hopefully take pictures of the process and the finished product, and also learn more about cooking in the process. Some will be simple while others might be a bit sticky, but that’s part of the fun of stepping out of your element. I look forward to reading this fun book whilst also making delicious meals (that hopefully don’t expand my waistline in the process). 

Goal 2:

For years I have wanted to make soaps, shampoos, and conditioners.  I think the more basic and natural you get with your products the better.  Honestly, who really needs Methylchloroisothiazolinone on a daily basis anyway?  I have extremely sensitive skin and certain products just make it worse.  I can’t use sodium lauryl sulfate or any variation of it.  For those who share my allergy, you know how difficult it is to find products without this chemical (can someone say toothpaste?!). But now that I will be working from home instead of an office (which is perfect when you live somewhere with almost sub-zero winter temperatures) I can hopefully take more time to actually pursue said hobby. And once one of my three jobs ends I will have loads of extra time, which will be heavenly. I hope to also show off my finished products.  I think this could be a very fun adventure, even if my better half thinks I take on too many things at once (which is true).

Goal 3:

I hope to actually buckle down and write this book that I have been inspired to write for two years now.  I think it’s an original story and I really am passionate about writing it, but between lack of sleep and three jobs I feel crazed, and when I do finally find time in my schedule to write, my creativity has checked out.  I hope that 2011 will bring me some much-needed relaxation and creativity.


Goal 4:

My own oil painting of a Cosmopolitan

I want to spend more time painting.  I love painting and I need more time and energy to do it. I hope to make time to paint since it really is the most therapeutic hobby.  I also need sleep.  This really should be my mantra.

Goal 5:

My shoe obsession has become a bit dangerous

I want to reorganize my apartment.  Living with a significant other can be difficult, and fighting over a studio makes it even more challenging. I am shoe and clothing obsessed (I blame my mom…I see that I have blamed my mom twice in this post, but it’s only in jest. She may be the coolest person I know, so saying these things doesn’t really seem all that malicious) and the closet is never big enough.  I also hoard papers (perhaps because my experience has always been, the minute I throw away a document that I haven’t needed in months or years, I immediately need it. No joke), and my desk gets the brunt of my destruction.  Sadly my jobs keep me so busy that I often find that the best place to put my clothes is flung over the couch, which makes for not-so-lovely décor and a less-than-thrilled fiancée. But, I can be oddly organized (contradictory, I know). I enjoy getting all my documents together for taxes because I love organizing it and placing it together and calculating it myself.  I enjoy some structure and I’m kind of a nerd when it comes to scheduling, organizing my papers, and cleaning (even though I’m not always so great at it).  My OCD will kick into high gear when necessary.  I don’t have a ton of time for it, but I hope to make more time, because when I do finally find the energy to clean the apartment I go on an all-day frenzy and I don’t stop until I’m finished.  From organizing my documents into decorative binders to creating a concoction that will perhaps attempt to fight the lovely stubborn apartment grim (any suggestions?), I love it all. It’s weird but I always feel so satisfied and productive when I finish.  I want to make my temporary residence feel more like a home and less like a layover.

Goal 6:

My cozy Parisian desk

I hope to find cheap ways to decorate my apartment. I also need to begin some art projects, one of which include the ten wine bottles I have had stored for months—despite fiancee’s protests to get rid of them.

But, I think my ultimate goal is to spend more time doing the things I love and removing the things in my life that get in the way.  Those extra freelance projects that I don’t really need, taking on more work assignments than I know how to handle, all of those get in the way of enjoying life.  I want 2011 to be the year I travel, experience life, spend more time with friends and family, meet new people, and pursue the interests I really love.  I look forward to this challenging new adventure.  See, I have become more decisive already. I think that’s a pretty good start.

Travel, Travel Everywhere But Not a Check to Cash!

For whatever reason I find that the holiday season always makes me eager to finish all the projects I have started and to begin the projects I have been dying to start for much longer than I wish to admit. For some people, spring motivates them to change their wardrobe, assess their jobs, travel, clean closets (eek!), but for me that season is winter. I’m not a fan of winter. Winter and I deal with one another and we kind of have an unspoken agreement. I don’t curse out snow and in return it doesn’t give me frostbite or break my limbs (I’m very clumsy all on my own, thank you!). But for some reason with the drastic change in seasons come drastic changes of my own.  Every time it gets cold I dream of travel and now it’s become so automatic that I even know just when it’s going to snow too.  I typically dream of London around this time.  I have never been, but have dreamt of going since I was young.  It is in my blood and I need to go soon.  Anyway, I always have dreams about London when it’s going to snow. I picture myself walking down cobblestone streets, wearing my hat and furry winter coat, and I picture myself window shopping, sitting in cafes sipping tea and writing, and wandering aimlessly taking in everything a second at a time.  This dream feels so real in fact that I even say aloud, “I’ve finally gotten to travel. I’m finally here.” Then I wake up.

 I get bitten by the travel bug the same time every year.  I have always desired to travel, I think more than most. I actually waited much longer than most children to begin talking, and once I did I couldn’t stop talking about places I wanted to go. When I was three I announced to my mom that we should move to Africa. Why? Because it looks beautiful!  I have wanted to go to Africa ever since. I dream of learning French and traveling all over France tasting wines, going to festivals, and reveling in a different world so unlike my own. I enjoy jumping out of my comfort zone, and this began a few years ago when I decided that I want to try everything at least once. I’ve wanted to sky dive since I was young (mostly because the idea of flying is something my childish personality wishes she could do. When I was a child I truly believed I had the ability to fly, but then again who didn’t?!).  But what stuck with me the most was something my grandfather told me. He was a pilot in the navy and he also dreamed of flying. As a child he would will himself to dream about soaring over houses and trees while watching the world below.  He said it was the most liberating feeling. After a while he could will himself to dream the same dream every night (he has some pretty incredible powers!).  After that I knew I wanted this ability too, but as I grew up the childish magic wears off and reality strikes. The only time I had flown was either in a plane (which is kind of the opposite of liberating…can we say extra leg room, please?) or in a dream (and I couldn’t agree more with my grandfather, those dreams are the best!) and when someone swore that skydiving was the closest you ever felt to flying I promised myself that I would try it for myself. As I grew older the opportunity presented itself. My better half asked what I wanted for my birthday and I firmly stated “skydiving!”  At first he thought this was reckless and a bit stupid, but then he realized that the part of me that wanted this so badly was the same part that is still that five year old jumping from trees and wishing desperately to sprout wings. And I did sprout my wings…uhm, or a parachute that is.  It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It was the freest I ever felt, the wind in my face, the dissociative sensation of floating. I now know what Thoreau meant by transcendental. I felt so small and it was liberating and humbling at the same time.

There is only one tiny issue that tends to burst my travel bubble, and that’s money.  It’s always lingering around, reminding me that it’s lonely and would like more friends.  Well let me tell money something, I would like more too! But I am dedicated to making 2011 my travel year. It’s my time! By then my credit card should be paid off (with any luck!) and I will be free to save my money for my own wants, and that is thrilling to me.

I have also thrown a new job option into the ring and that’s travel writing/photography. It’s a great contender! However it’s a small niche and difficult to break into, and you kinda have to travel in order to be a real travel writer, so I have my fingers crossed that I will travel my way into a career.  Again my Sagittarius spirit becomes restless every couple of weeks and I jump from one dream job to the next. One month I’m completely dedicated to my acting career, and the next I’m dying to be a photographer for a newspaper or a cake decorator or shoe designer.  But I’m not alone in this fleeting job hunt. Apparently a lot of artists feel this way.

I got the opportunity to meet Thomas Arvid, perhaps the most incredible painter I have ever seen.  His work speaks for itself. The first time I saw his artwork I couldn’t believe it wasn’t a photograph.  I had the good fortune to actually speak with him when I was in California. He is a kind and humble artist who took more time with me than I could have ever expected. I was on Cloud 9 all the way home. In our conversation I asked how he came to be the artist he is today and he said that he had jumped back and forth between artistic jobs and couldn’t settle. He loved playing an instrument, he enjoyed his music, he wanted to paint everything, and he threw out a couple other jobs he had contemplated. I told him of my similar plight and he said that I have to figure out what job I can’t live without. What other jobs could I reject and be able to accept that they aren’t in my life? What job would make up for the other jobs that I discarded? What artistic aspect of my professional work do I not want to forfeit? It was sage advice and while it hasn’t led me to make my final decision just yet, it constantly whispers in my ear every time I contemplate another career path. Just the fact that his statement rings out every time I consider my place in the working world really shows how much of an impact he made. I only hope that I can quiet my mind enough to figure out what I cannot live without and stop trying to be the person who needs to do everything. If you have even one love in your life as a career, than you’re lucky enough!

 

Socially Inept or Unsociably Skilled?

Part of being gifted with introversion is also possessing the unique ability to be socially inept. Sometimes known as foot-in-mouth syndrome (which I also know all too well), I lovingly call it social awkwardness. I have become much more forthcoming about it within the last couple years because I feel the need to alert people to the fact that I can be a bit unusual. I blame that on being an only child and growing up in a household of adults. I also don’t think a private school filled with other socially inept people helped the situation either. So often times I’m not sure what people my age want to talk about. I enjoy people’s company but I often find myself at a loss for words. Conversations make me feel as if I’m supposed to be entertaining someone, not because I feel the need to entertain them but I find it hard to figure out things to talk about.  It is especially hard if the person you are talking to also doesn’t know what to say. It often leads to a lot of awkward silences, and if you are lucky enough to be riding the same bus to exactly the same location, then you need at least 30 minutes of material (which I never have). I find it exhausting. 

I might want to quickly explain that my day job consists of putting words together—SEO marketing. I edit words and try to come up with even fancier synonyms for the words we already have in our possession; however, looking at words all day ironically makes you question yourself when it comes to simple spelling (Is that really how you spell rabbit?!). You question the weirdest things. So needless to say by the time I’m finished with my work week, I’m lucky if I know how to put full sentences together, let alone coherent ones. Couple that with unexpected conversation and you have a blubbering disaster on your hands. Just the other day a coworker asked me how I was doing and besides the typical “fine” that spouted from my mouth and redirecting the same question to her, it seemed as if she expected more conversation, so I made general small talk:

“It’s been a long week, I feel exhausted.” I said.

“Yea I know what you mean,” said non-socially inept coworker.   

“Just needing some sleep. This week has gone by so slowly. And the weather doesn’t help.”  

“Yea.”

My brain chimed in: You sound so depressed, this is such a Debby Downer moment. Lighten the mood!”:

“But at least it’s Friday so….” Oh crap how do I finish this? I don’t know what to say next. Oh god, just say something!

“So, ummm… celebratory moments!”

Yes with hands raised in victory, my face like a Peanut’s character, this was how my brain decided to end the conversation…with the words “celebratory moments.” I couldn’t have said “At least it’s Friday and we can all enjoy the weekend,” or “Now that Friday’s here I’m in a fabulous mood. What are you doing this weekend?” Something…anything but “celebratory moments.” Well I high-tailed it out of the women’s bathroom and back into my office of shame.

You may wonder how it is I decided to even become an actor, but I must admit that I feel fine on stage. A little awkward in front of the camera as I tend to make a lot of  facial expressions, some  of which aren’t always pretty, but otherwise I feel great acting. Perhaps it’s because the dialogue is already written for me. I don’t have to improvise anything (P.S. I don’t do improv).  But making contacts is another story.

About a month ago I was hanging out with a friend at this incredible 1920’s bar in the city. We were listening to swing music and I noticed that there was only one female singer. I wondered if they might be interested in taking on another. I love that kind of music and the gig would be amazing. After some coaxing from my friend and one last gulp of liquid courage I decided to go up to one of the band leaders and ask if they held auditions. Easy enough, right? The band takes their break and before we sneak out I politely introduce myself to the band announcer and ask if they hold auditions for singers.  He called the conductor over and we exchanged niceties. He asked for my card and I blushed saying I didn’t have one with me but I had a notepad and a pen for him to write down my information. Instead he gave me his email address and asked me to email him immediately so that we could lock down an audition time by the next day.

Everything was going surprisingly well if you didn’t count the bowling ball in my stomach and the rigidity of my stance.  I thanked him for the information and just then… he put his right arm out to his side, not like a handshake but more like an indication of a side hug. He continued to hold his one arm out to the side for a second or two while I looked at it with confusion. I thought a hug seemed pretty friendly for a first encounter, but after looking at his arm in confusion I decided to just take the plunge. I hugged him…well sort of. I did the awkward, not-sure-I-should-be-doing-this side hug. There was no commitment to that action, I was totally out on a limb here. But to make matters worse, as I hugged him he exclaimed, “ OH!” as if he was shocked by my touchy-feelyness (word document has placed the angry red squiggle under this word, so it’s obviously not a real word…but I might just have to coin the term—Microsoft be damned!) and to my horror and shock I said, “Well I guess I’m doing this then!” as I continued to have my arm around his shoulder. He tried to back off but instead his fingers got tangled in my hair and he tried to rip his hand free (poor man!) but it hurt so I naturally shouted “OUCH!” He looked a bit perturbed and perhaps a bit traumatized. He got away pretty quickly.

As I skulked out the side door completely mortified, my friend congratulated me on a successful encounter. He had not heard our uncomfortable mid-hug discussion or seen the finger-in-hair mishap. He had just seen a hug and told me that I was “totally in” because of it. Between shaking my head in shock and trying hard not to laugh I explained to him the situation. We had a good laugh about it but it had my conversation skills out of whack. My brain felt mushy. So much so that as we waited for the bus to pick us up, a truck pulled up to a red light, a scruffy man rolled down his window and told me that they had a picture of Rahm Emanuel in the truck and asked if I wanted my picture taken with him (P.S. this is not a pick-up line you should ever use). I was already so flustered from the last encounter that I didn’t know what to say, so as they continued to harass me about taking my picture with Rahm Emanuel and telling me that his friend liked me I finally just shouted, “I don’t know how to respond to this right now!” They seem shocked and a bit confused, laughed nervously, and drove off. I must say I’ve never been happier to see public transportation or my cramped studio apartment, heaps of clothes and all!

So what say you, other members of the introverted world? Have any statements or moments of shame that you can laugh about now?

An Introvert’s Introduction

As you may have guessed from this blog title, I am the introverted artist. As a conventional writer I always pictured myself being more of a traditionalist when it came to my writing, but no such luck. The blog has called to me and finally after much debating, I have answered its call;  especially since blog writing has become a necessary skill for most writers seeking jobs.  But I put my foot down here….Twitter shall never have me.  I’m too wordy for 150 characters. The other reason I was so hesitant to blog was because I never knew what kind of blog I wished to keep. I am introverted and also very indecisive as you will soon realize.  I can never decide on anything, from what to eat for dinner to what career I want.  I jump from one thing to the next and making decisions does get my heart pounding.  So I considered a book review blog. I am currently challenging myself to the 1001 Books to Read Before You Die list and I thought it might be helpful to write honest reviews and see other people’s response to the novels; however, I chickened out. Mostly because the books I was picking from the list continued to be duds and visions of valuable time-wasted and silent, seething aggression manifested in my blog and I pictured it being one rant after another; a book review nazi blog, if you will. I couldn’t label myself that way. So I took a reading hiatus (something I rarely do).  Blasphemy, I know, but honestly after seven or eight terrible books in row and clumps of hair ripped out (they are growing back now) I needed zen time (even if it was on public transportation). I realized a book review blog was not for me.

This is when I contemplated a blog about visual arts. In a time where digital art has exploded, I still love the good ‘ole canvas and oils (And the occasional acrylic, when I don’t care about mixing colors).  I use computers constantly for work…why would I want to use it for my art too? Being a workaholic I must say that the best times are spent sitting on the floor of my cramped studio apartment painting with a cup of tea in hand. I also tend to put a movie on for background noise. Sadly I don’t get a lot of time to do this, so when I do, I truly treasure it.

Then I finally decided that I could start a fashion or decorating blog. Perhaps create my own cooking/baking blog and try my hand at that (I thought it would help with my cooking skills, or lack thereof. A couple of weeks ago I made a “yummy” salmon that was so burnt that it looked like a volcano, equipped with some unknown black tar exploding from the center. I really need to learn how to cook).

 I thought about creating  a blog about my personal shopaholic tendencies as a—I hate to say it—“starving” artist (ugh OK, said it, let’s move on) in an expensive city, or my experiences as an professional actor. But nothing jumped out as being the “one” topic I wanted for my blog…so I decided to stop my indecisiveness and just jump on in and see where it takes me.  A hodge-podge of topics really, from visual art to books to home décor to my crazy life in the city. I told you I was indecisive.