Pseudotherapy

2009: The Year of Being SJ, Part One

Last week my blogdaughter Kim wrote a post about slacking off on her running due to holiday activities, asking the question, “Can I still call myself a runner if I only ran once last week?” While rhetorical, this question got me thinking.

At what point does “am” become “was”? When does “on hiatus” become “canceled”? Where does the line between “legend” and “has-been” fall? Can I still call myself a writer if I hardly ever write?

Although I’ve fantasized since childhood about being a successful novelist, I’ve always known it wasn’t going to happen. I don’t have that drive, at least not on a consistent basis. While my love of writing has been lifelong, the urge to write is very much ebb and flow for me. There have been times in my life when I was consumed with the need to write for months and months, but there have also been times when I went literally years without composing anything more than my work-related reports. When I am beset by the muse, I write constantly and compulsively. And when I’m not, I rarely touch my keyboard.

2006 was a great year for me, creatively speaking. I was living on unemployment in Georgia, with nothing to do all day but write and take photos. That’s when I was on The Write Coast [Author's note: I wonder when I will stop having a stabbing pain in my heart/gut just saying that name? Ever, you think?], and posting nearly every day. That was the year I met many of you through GBBMC1. I also completed a 24-hour Blogathon, 31 Days Of Halloween, NaNoBloMo and Holidailies. It was the zenith of my blogging history thus far.

I’ve never recaptured the muse to that extent since then. Maybe because I moved back to California, and promptly got a full-time job that I adore. Maybe because I’m so much happier. Maybe I’m an angst writer, and my artistic juices flow best when I’m miserable. I don’t like that idea. I don’t want to only express myself when I’m in despair. I don’t want to someday look back at my online journaling, and mostly see chronicles of my low spots. I don’t want the only evidence of my good times to be an absence of posts.

This is one of my intentions for 2009: Write more, write daily, write for me. I am officially and permanently DONE playing the popularity game (at which I was quite the failure, BTW!). We all say, “This is my blog,” but for me what that meant in 2008 was, “This is my blog, with which I am desperately trying to win your approval and acceptance, which you will show me by reading, subscribing and commenting copiously.” Uh, yeah, not so much. But you know what? I don’t give a shit. No, really. I truly don’t anymore. Using my blog for that purpose frustrated and stifled me, and very nearly killed my love for writing. And accomplished zilch. In fact, it probably drove away more readers than it lured. Trying too hard and all that. DONE. WITH. THAT.

Beginning now, I OWN Pseudotherapy, and I INTEND to make it genuine in all aspects.

Tomorrow: 2009: The Year of Being SJ, Part Two

[Author's Note #2: This post ended up going in a different direction than originally intended. I don't care. It's the train of thought that counts.]

I wasn’t expecting it. You never are, I suppose.  No warning, you’re just going about your business, when love suddenly rears up and bites you in the ass. That’s exactly what happened.

I was flipping through the channels looking for something to watch. Some movie had just begun on Encore. A brooding Willem Dafoe was riding in the back seat of a car, and the song playing behind the opening credits riveted my attention to the screen. The film was Light Sleeper, and the song was “World On Fire” by Michael Been. I can’t explain why I fixated on it. I liked The Call, but was never obsessed with them or anything. I hadn’t followed Been’s post-80s career at all. Nor was I in a real-life situation that especially related to the lyrics. Yet the song crawled under my skin and burrowed into my brain, and I could not let it go. I actually missed about half of the movie because I was on my computer trying to find a copy of the soundtrack.

It wasn’t available. Anywhere. Out of stock on Amazon, discontinued by the publisher, not found on any music downloading service I tried. One song, “To Feel This Way,” was included on two other albums, but “World On Fire” had only been released as part of the soundtrack. The out of stock, discontinued, phantom soundtrack.

That was a few years ago. I’ve continued searching for this elusive song/soundtrack ever since, browsing secondhand music stores and eBay, but with no luck. Until today. Today at last, thanks to the kindness of a stranger, the Light Sleeper soundtrack is mine. It’s a stunning piece of work by Been, and includes both the original rockin’ and the moody opening-scene versions of “World On Fire.” I would like to share it with you. Have a listen, and then tell me what you think.

Download “World On Fire” by Michael Been, from the film Light Sleeper

Thank you for your business. I don’t share your obsession with the film, but am happy so many of you like my T-shirt design. Ironically, my own Twilight-fixated daughter (for whom I created this shirt) does not. Go figure.

Best regards,
SJ
Proprietress of Pseudocelebrity

In theory, it was a great concept. A holiday card that uniquely conveyed the spirit of San Diego. Against an ocean-blue background, a sand-sculpture tree festively decorated with tiny, beautiful shells and crowned with a wee starfish. Letters formed of seafoam spelling out, “Warm Wishes.” A lovely design, destined for failure.

I don’t know why, during the many hours I worked on these cards, it never once occurred to me they might be problematic to mail. What was I thinking? Shells, glued to sand, glued to paper. Tiny, fragile shells so small they had to be applied with tweezers, yet not small enough to survive the postage machine. It crushed them. My lovely cards are ruined. I’m so sad.

[The card pictured is an unfinished reject, discarded because the lower W is messed up. Yeah, I'm a perfectionist.]