Memo from the Department of Unproductivity
Mar. 2nd, 2022 09:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mobiusstripperSomething I just noticed (but realize I have unconsciously experienced for a while) is that I find entries on this site very hard to read for some reason. I've chalked up my tendency to merely skim through my reading page to laziness, but it's hitting me now that I don't experience this issue on sites like Tumblr. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but it's definitely something to do with the layout and how close together the lines of text appear to be. Serifs probably aren't helping either. I need to experiment with my layout.
In other news:
I've written twenty pages of my play. For most of it I've had no clue where I was going and felt I was coming out with some really aimless, meandering crap, but my mentor LOVES it so far and keeps chiding me for doubting myself when I'm writing. I tend to be really judgmental of myself during the process, and she's pushing me to let go of all that, which is wonderful. I always feel like I have a duty to aggressively guard against all types of self-indulgence or at the very least be self-aware and self-deprecating about it. Which is actually pretty unlike me, since I'm quite unapologetic in most aspects of my life re:self-expression. But I've somehow wired myself up to believe that I am violating the harm principle by subjecting a reader to something pretentious and/or masturbatory, like putting shitty art out into the world is somehow morally wrong and requires a pre-emptive apology. Or that I'm so afraid of being arrogant (which is something I have been accused of at various points throughout my life - both rightly and wrongly, in my opinion) that I have developed a neurotic compulsion to check myself constantly. Even now as I chide myself for how worried I get about coming off as up my own ass, I am feeling the urge to joke about how "Well, I am pretty far up my own ass" in a Bojack-y "Well at least I know I'm a piece of shit, which makes me better than all the other pieces of shit" way. But now I have someone actually telling me that not only should I not do that, but I'm not allowed to do it. I'm not allowed to second-guess myself, so I am able to write without worrying so much because every time I think I'm writing garbage, I can remind myself that she gave me permission to write garbage. So that's been very freeing, and she also actually likes what I have so far.
I've been exposed to covid, so I have an excuse to not go anywhere for ten days now. My aunt, uncle, and cousin all have it, most likely due to my cousin picking it up at school. Hoping I won't get sick, but mostly worried about my grandma, who was also exposed. Thankfully, we're all triple vaxxed.
I've started reading like eight books in the past month or so and haven't gotten very far into any of them. I've decided to put all my focus into reading The Expanse books (currently on Caliban's War) because my brain doesn't seem able to process much more than page-turner-y fiction lately (then again, my other recent reading attempts have included Sartre and Kristeva, so I can't be too harsh on myself for not being up for it).
My little cactus is budding again. She has three little pink buds coming up. I'm not looking forward to spring/summer because the heat during the days is intolerable, but I am looking forward to all my plants coming back/flowering and sitting outside with them on balmy nights and writing. One day, I would like to have a real garden. In the ground, not in pots.
In other news:
I've written twenty pages of my play. For most of it I've had no clue where I was going and felt I was coming out with some really aimless, meandering crap, but my mentor LOVES it so far and keeps chiding me for doubting myself when I'm writing. I tend to be really judgmental of myself during the process, and she's pushing me to let go of all that, which is wonderful. I always feel like I have a duty to aggressively guard against all types of self-indulgence or at the very least be self-aware and self-deprecating about it. Which is actually pretty unlike me, since I'm quite unapologetic in most aspects of my life re:self-expression. But I've somehow wired myself up to believe that I am violating the harm principle by subjecting a reader to something pretentious and/or masturbatory, like putting shitty art out into the world is somehow morally wrong and requires a pre-emptive apology. Or that I'm so afraid of being arrogant (which is something I have been accused of at various points throughout my life - both rightly and wrongly, in my opinion) that I have developed a neurotic compulsion to check myself constantly. Even now as I chide myself for how worried I get about coming off as up my own ass, I am feeling the urge to joke about how "Well, I am pretty far up my own ass" in a Bojack-y "Well at least I know I'm a piece of shit, which makes me better than all the other pieces of shit" way. But now I have someone actually telling me that not only should I not do that, but I'm not allowed to do it. I'm not allowed to second-guess myself, so I am able to write without worrying so much because every time I think I'm writing garbage, I can remind myself that she gave me permission to write garbage. So that's been very freeing, and she also actually likes what I have so far.
I've been exposed to covid, so I have an excuse to not go anywhere for ten days now. My aunt, uncle, and cousin all have it, most likely due to my cousin picking it up at school. Hoping I won't get sick, but mostly worried about my grandma, who was also exposed. Thankfully, we're all triple vaxxed.
I've started reading like eight books in the past month or so and haven't gotten very far into any of them. I've decided to put all my focus into reading The Expanse books (currently on Caliban's War) because my brain doesn't seem able to process much more than page-turner-y fiction lately (then again, my other recent reading attempts have included Sartre and Kristeva, so I can't be too harsh on myself for not being up for it).
My little cactus is budding again. She has three little pink buds coming up. I'm not looking forward to spring/summer because the heat during the days is intolerable, but I am looking forward to all my plants coming back/flowering and sitting outside with them on balmy nights and writing. One day, I would like to have a real garden. In the ground, not in pots.
no subject
Date: 2022-03-03 09:16 pm (UTC)Y'know something that helped me with this was realising that I can actually love it when authors get really self-indulgent. Not all the time, definitely, but I do like both; I like the obsessively crafted piece, where every word is carefully placed and the author is so performative you wonder what kind of fucked up childhood they had, and I also like it when an author writes something just for the hell of it, idfic, whatever, with no fucks given and a plot held together with sellotape. Shows written on those principles can also be a lot more fun to watch with someone else. I often like older fanfic for that, and dramatic anime. I think there's definitely a tradeoff with energy when you architect something a lot and distance it from yourself.
Congrats on the cactus. Mine never last long; I've never had one bud! I like writing out at night, too. Though it always seems to rain when I have the opportunity. Maybe this year will be better.
no subject
Date: 2022-03-03 11:04 pm (UTC)