Junior, Queen of the Urban Woods
Woodshedding starts tonight. Sequestering in place. Hiding out inside and not outside so I can dig around in this crazy head of mine and pull out the words that represent the thoughts and the experiences that represent me and put them in an order that hooks and snares the ones who like to read the words that relate and reveal and inspire and feel.
I'm taking a whole week off work. Whole entire week. Don't ask me how I can afford it. I can't. I might end up getting some calls from some utility companies. I might end up paying late fees on rent. I might end up living off the credit card for a couple weeks until I can catch up but it's not really catching up when you're already in debt. It's just leveling off at a new low. It's ok, though, because I have a plan.
The plan? Try and make this work. Try and make a living at what feels like actually living instead of anchoring myself to one hell of a job until my engine burns out and I get pulled under. Sink or swim is part of the adventure, part of the journey. I've been in the hole before enough times to know that I know how to get out of it and leave it way behind me. Ebb and flow, ebb and flow. Can't know if you don't try. Can't do it if you don't.
Fuck the recession. There's always a recession. Tell it to stop buzzing around my head like a schizophrenic mosquito and let me pursue my dreams. Let me pursue my dreams asshole. Call it an asshole. Swearing is empowering. Swearing goes good with crazy.
God damn, though. I'm scared. I've got a brain in this head of mine full of memories ready to be rehashed. Some of them are rough. Pain. Mean. Sorrow. Jealousy. Rage. Abandoned. Broken. Nearly dead. Some of them are good, though. More good than bad, really, but the weight of bad is seven times that of good when it comes to creating a mood or an attitude. Still, the good was good enough to make something or someone or probably me cast a grappler into the future and grab onto some good shit (as my therapist called it yesterday) and pull my ass out of the past and onto the shore of the present. I coughed and choked and turned blue for a few minutes or years (who's counting) and the whole experience was an absolutely terrifying adventure into near-clinical insanity. It didn't help matters or impressions having all those crows swirling and cackling and dive-bombing my head, either. But I lived. Even better, I was happy about living, can you believe it? You wouldn't, if you'd been inside my head once upon a time.
Anyway, you can see why going back to visit would be daunting. But it's writing, too. A week-plus long adventure into the world of words. I like words. Man, do I like words. Nature and emotions and experiences are fantastic, but even better when you take a stab at the word puzzle game of describing everything in the most accurate and poetic way possible so that anyone who reads your work feels just as dizzy in love with it as you do.
So here's hoping I come out of this adventure sane enough to catch up on the bills and start looking for a better job.
Woodshedding starts tonight.
Woodshedding starts tonight.
Woodshedding starts tonight.
Right after skating.
Cheers!
All pictures and words copyright Anna Horvitz (me) and cannot be used without my consent. If I die of insanity, leave everything to Pilot. And Junior. For all other causes of death, please refer to my Dismemberment Plan.
