While this post contains “nudity,” it’s about blogging and not sex.
I’m sitting on over six thousand words for you. They’re leaves branching off from all the recent times I’ve promised you a “to be continued.” This means a crazy tree in my head that won’t stop growing. The unending metaphors for the words trapped in my head aren’t new. I’ve said before why I started this site, ‘the tornado within,’
“Or any number of turning, whirling, spinning metaphors transforming the inside of my head into a savage merry-go-round. You’ve seen the Dutch angle close-ups of carousel horses, wide-eyed and mid-whinny, set to unsettling organ music. They’re frozen in gallop, a frightening paradox, and none too unlike ideas begging for fruition. It happens that when I am moved, I’m taken over by an unstoppable Monster. So will inspiration deign pay a visit? But then will it overstay its welcome? And round and around.”
But this week, it’s the crazy tree. It’s grafted with the Martian dating posts and the Mulholland post. There are interrelated offshoots of each growing out wildly and pressing against my skull. If I had the energy, I would splice a headshot of myself with dismay on my face and tree branches growing out of my ears. All together I have four other posts minimized on my screen, some of which have been sitting there for a week. The Perfect Man is down there, as is the tally of my brief online dating. There is of course, some snow, and more — a lot more — romance with Mulholland. And then there’s Freezer. Freezer is new. You’ll like Freezer. But I have other ground to cover first.
Naked on Mulholland! ← I’ll lure you with nudity in order to get you to the bottom of this post. That means I’ll address being naked on Mulholland somewhere below.
Early in the Gunmetal Geisha days, I was naïve enough to think it was a good idea to share the blog management system I had devised for myself. And even more naïvely, I thought it would work for me in the long run. Now, I’m still in the short run, and I’ve failed at almost every aspect of my own manifesto:
Posting once a week (occasionally twice) on any weekday but Friday: fail and fail. Keeping the word count around 1000: fail. Reciprocating by returning the visit to every blogger that visits me, in a timely fashion. Or at all: fail and fail! (I’m so sorry about this.)
I still say it’s a decent system. It just so happens that I’m not decent at it. But I have no intention of giving up on the Blogging Dance, since I’m devoted to Gunmetal Geisha and those who read it.
Reading the Blogging Dance for the first time in months, it felt like a fun, quirky, straightforward post written by someone else. A helpful one, at that, and I recommend it. Even though it’ll pretty much advise you not to bother with my blog if you’ve made copious visits to it and I haven’t returned the courtesy. Maybe ignore that part. I have a time management impediment, which I’m working on. In the meantime, think of me, no, not as naked (wink), but as your good deed.
Here’s the most important modification I would introduce to that post:
Don’t make promises. Promises set people up for expectations. If you don’t make promises, you can’t break them. That way you won’t disappoint people, and if you do come through with a promise-worthy action, maybe you’ll delight someone.
Good manners in all facets of life matter to me. They fall under the umbrella of an all-around person of decency — a funny one who mock-lures you with nudity. So it pains me to have weeks in which I’m so pressed for time that I can’t properly reciprocate. I tell myself, I’m here first and foremost to write. Reading is vital, of course, but writing has right of way. (As do naked people, if you think about it.)
I write because I have a passion for it. I write here because the license given by a personal blog offers me an interesting paradigm. I bare (ahem) my frankest self (and resist terrible puns) with conscious effort to reign in self-indulgence, all the while observing craft, style, pacing and minimal use of cliché (challenging at times). It’s a continuous workout, with the bonus of communion, and as it turns out, effective therapy.
But if there were only one reason to do this, it would be self-examination for the purpose of self-betterment. I suppose I could do it privately, but it’s not unheard of that others may get something out of it too.
Maybe people blow smoke up my ass. But what sublime smoke when someone says, “Your soul, passion, heart and intellect are a commodity to society.” What if, at the very least, I had the chance to evolve into the person those words describe? Would it then be okay to write about myself without seeking to constantly justify it? Or am I a deluded, narcissistic attention-seeker? And round and around.
There you have another example of a post going where it wants, because I assure you, self-doubt was not one of my preferred topics of discussion. But the self-doubt stays. On Gunmetal Geisha, I don’t break the covenant of letting writing exist as it chooses. After all, I won’t have that license anywhere else meant for public consumption. Let the post sink leagues below as long as it comes up for air under tree branches. Still, I’m on the verge of deleting the naked bits — not for their nakedness, but for their jarring jump in context.
Eh. The nudity stays. What’s more bold than nudity?
Right. There’s just no graceful way to get back to the crazy tree after that jumble of covenant and flesh. I have no segue to get me back on track for the real purpose of this post:
As a person who can be locked in a room for a hundred years and never run out of ideas to write about, it’s ironic to announce I’ve taken on a writing challenge designed for those who need prompts in order to come up with topics. Hear me out; my reasoning is sound.
In the month of April, I’m to write a post every day except Sunday on topics beginning with a letter of the alphabet. That means a total of twenty-six posts in one month, from A to Z topics. They’re not suggesting more than 200-500 words per day, so it’s not as daunting as it sounds.
And why is this at all a sane choice for me, while I’m in school full-time, shooting and editing a new short film, and writing term-papers? Because it confines me to brief but frequent missives — the opposite in fact, of what I’ve been doing. But more importantly, it confines me to arbitrary topics based on letters of the alphabet, rather than my constant mental loops. It’s precisely because I have a bottomless well of little ideas that don’t know where to go that I’ve decided to participate. I view it as a decluttering process. I’ll get rid of twenty-six little burdens that don’t have anything to do with the rest of the GG garden. I can only imagine the result to be liberating.
Am I promising to make it through? No! But heads up to those of you who receive email notifications: you might end up with GG in your inbox every day. Don’t get tired of me, it won’t be spam. It’ll be a careful cutting of some overgrown exotic vegetation.
That gives me two weeks to prune the crazy tree — you know, the four posts minimized on my screen right now. Those are coming at you willy-nilly — two a day, or one every day. So look for them, because I really was naked on Mulholland: Maybe I ran out of gas after drinking lots of water I could no longer hold, or maybe it was pitch black and I partook in R-rated activities with my boyfriend, or maybe I got skunked and had no choice but to shed my dress. You’ll find the true answer in one of the upcoming posts. Promise. (Yes, I made a promise after telling you not to. It’s a purposeful choice.)
[Edit: To date, I’ve had three complaints that I promised (← There’s that word again. And this one →) nudity in this post but didn’t come through. I beg to differ, I promised “nudity,” and the word is indeed — rather shamelessly — scattered throughout the post. If that pisses off the literal in you, fortunately there happens to be an exposed breast, nipple and all, right on top of the page. Or did you miss Ernst Ludwig Kirchner’s ink drawing?]
- If you don’t make promises, you can’t break them.
- That really means, a promise made is a promise kept.
- This post exists only to get you to read the upcoming ones.
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