bits and pieces
I had hoped to have the SFD (shitty first draft – see Annie Lamott, Bird by Bird) done by 25 June, when Kristina was out of school for the summer.
You might ask, “How is that going?”
I am thinking of a Rolling Stones song that I heard a lot one summer. I was crewing on a sailboat named Satisfaction. Every morning when we left the dock, regardless of our racing performance the day before, our captain blasted our theme song for the fleet.
Everyone now: “I CAN’T GET NO…” You know the rest.
I’m not there yet.
But I am making progress. And I’ve learned so much in these last months. I feel good about that.
There are times when it’s been hard to write. When it’s not there, I wait a bit, then I change something about how I’m working: time of day, venue, music, company, whatever. When the writing is a total bust, I take a break from it, and then our house is really, Really, REALLY clean.
Perhaps that’s a good metric for my progress: right now, our house is a bit of a pit. You could make a pair of slippers (for a small child) from the tumbles of dog hair collecting in corners on the hardwood.
Yay – I think I’ve found my mojo again!
I’ve been working at the boat this last week: no interruptions, no television, no internet access, no housework, no laundry. When I need a break, I walk up the dock, or sit above in the sun, taking in the wide open sky.
I know, right?
Mostly though, I sit down below and write or type without stopping. And I have been able to write or type without stopping. It is hot here today though, and the laptop is HOT on my lap. But I know better than to complain. ;-)
Maybe SFD by the end of the summer?
Kristina is doing her best to support my writing.
Her idea of support is to spend all day, every day, out with her boyfriend and/or her other friends before she heads to her job as a lifeguard and swim instructor in the afternoons and evenings.
I’m not convinced that this is less of a distraction for me.
Today, Kristina and Boyfriend rode into the city with me for what they are calling Seattle Fridays. They plan to visit sites around the city – Pike Place Market, Seattle Centre, Woodland Park Zoo, the Aquarium, etc. every Friday – rediscovering them for the first time together.
As I drove, I pointed out landmarks and routes I wanted Kristina to notice, for when she is driving into the city – she has driven in, but has yet to do it alone.
“Mama, you worry too much.”**
Boyfriend leaned forward, flicked her shoulder, “You’re one to talk. Now I know where you get it from.”
This is not the first time he has said this about Kristina and me.
Apparently, we have a lot in common, including: we both talk quickly and randomly, hopscotching around subjects in the same conversation, and we return to unfinished topics with no obvious segue. Yeah, so? We are proud of this ability to recall and come back to unfinished topics. It is a skill, not a flaw.
In my own defense, I said, “I’m not worrying. I was just thinking about it.”
Boyfriend leaning forward again, “Oh, so you were overthinking it?!?!” Clearly, this was not a comment meant for me.
Kristina looked mildly chagrined. “You hush!” she tossed over her shoulder to the boy in the backseat.
Boyfriend looked quite pleased with himself.
** Actually, Kristina said this first in response to me saying that I think about earthquakes (specifically the one that caused a San Francisco raised highway to collapse like a stack of pancakes) every time I get on the Alaskan Way Viaduct. I don’t worry about it. But I do think about it. But she also said it about general driving commentary.
This is irreverent, but I think that’s okay.
Kristina sat at the kitchen table yesterday morning while I was doing yoga in the living room. (Sun Salutations = good for my lower back, especially with all the writing this week.)
I can’t remember if she was reading or watching television, probably both, plus texting. She asked, “You know how there were all those celebrity deaths last week?”
I must have mumbled something appropriate to continuing the conversation (I don’t usually talk much while I’m mid-pose), so she added, “And you know how they say celebrity deaths always come in threes?”
More mumbling from me.
“Well, leave it to Billy Mays to say, ‘But wait, there’s MORE!!'”
I cracked up and fell right out of Downward Dog.
I don’t think Billy Mays would have minded a bit.
listening to: The Hush Sound, Weeping Willow