July 2, 2017
5:00pm Dear Naomi Lee and Acacia Faye,
I should be writing three things I am proud of about my personality, but instead I'm watching Bendandsnap Commonweath's reading of Sol LeWitt's 1965 letter to Eve Hess. Eve was struggling with writers block and Sol gave Eve a real talking to about work. As I listen to this fantastic letter, I confess that I'm sitting here wondering how the hell I'm supposed to do anything unafraid. I'm a mess of anxiety with a huge heap of deep seated insecurities I can't seem to fix or ignore no matter how hard I try, and I'm sitting here struggling to write a simple blog post about myself. Should be the easiest thing in the world to write about ones own self. I can't seem to do it yet.
I keep thinking about how these words I string together will be read by someone I will probably never meet in person, and could potentially be read by many more people, which is overwhelming. I chose to be anonymous, thinking it would take the pressure off of this fact, but I've somehow found more pressure in my anonymity. All people will know of me are my words and my username. They won't know who I am in person, and if they are anything like me, they could be curious. I don't have any second thoughts about my choice, I'm keeping it. What it is- it's this: Someone will eventually stumble upon these 26 English letters I arrange and rearrange under the corybantic grammar and spelling rules of this Frankenstein language which gets so frustrating- even though its my native language. God, English is weird...and beautiful when its used by someone who can direct it. I don't want to mess up. I have ridiculously high standards for myself and my work. I want to write. I want to write well. I love this language (warts and all) and I want to learn how to use it. To make it sing and resonate and hit people like a ton of bricks with the feels. Aww the feels, but so far, like Eve, I'm bothered by my writing. I read it and I hate it. I mean, I can look in the mirror everyday and see the beauty others see in my appearance, but I look at my words or my art, I want to burn it. I see all the flaws in my work and hate them, whereas I celebrate my flaws in my appearance. I have this red blood vein that sticks out of my right nostril right on the base of the septum wall like a small hook, and I love it. My students at work point it out all the time and I tell them what it is and they love it and I get to introduce them to some simple human biology, which is great for young minds. Even when I wear make up I don't cover it. I enjoy the unique things in my appearance and the unique things in others and their work. Just the other day I was reading your work Naomi Lea, your "Guilt" essay. It had so much information, insight, wisdom, and I agree with you that convictional (is that even a word? Idk you get my drift) guilt can lead us to/back to Jesus. You explained it all with clear descriptive metaphors and language, yet when we talked about it you mentioned a few grammar things and there being too much passive voice and I'm like "What's passive voice?" I don't even know what passive voice was at the moment. I'm thankful you filled me in on that by the way. And when I read your work Acacia Faye, it's alive with meaning, honesty, and emotions that touch the heart. I aspire to write as wonderfully as both of you do.
I want to be able to do my work without a care in the world. To say "fudge you" to my insecurities and anxiety, to write without crying and using baked goods as swear words. I want to write as confidently as I walk in my favorite 70s styled 5 inch platform heels, to be as free with information as I am with my students, friends, and family. I want to see the unique beauty in my work as I see in others and my outward appearance. I want to be proud of my work, to love it, and I hope one day I will be able to celebrate what I've worked so hard to create.
It's now 11:21pm, so I'm going to call it a night. I'll probably edit this more throughout the week before sending it to you guys, then posting it on July 10th.
July 4, 2017
1:29pm - 3:07pm
Happy Fourth guys! I thank both of you for including me in this new challenging endeavor of blog writing and maintenance. I haven't thanked either of you, I think. I might have, I don't know I can't seem to recall. I'm in much higher spirits than I was on the 2nd, and I hope both of you are having a wonderful Fourth. I also want to say thank you for reading this letter too. I feel lighter now, having confessed everything, and for once I don't hate what I've written. I might one of these days, but for now I'm going to celebrate I've written something. I still plan on posting this on the 10th, and I'll be sending it off to you guys shortly. While this letter is still between me and God, I must confess one more thing: I'm not sure what others will think. But it's okay. I don't know what people think of me when I go out, I can only know what I think, and I like it. I'm excited now.
Please, celebrate what you guys have done too. Both of you have done so much, especially in my mind. Yes, none of us are novelist (yet) and none of us have been published in any major mainstream things, but both of you have been published at your Alma mater, which is more that I could say since I didn't do much of anything at mine. I am sure one day we will be published somewhere and we'll be able to go to the bookstore and see our books. Just remember not to sign them cause then the book/books will be marked as damaged and yeah that's not good. Could leave a note in it though. That would be fun.
We're still starting out, still young, and still learning what it is we want to write about and how we want to write it. I'm confident all three of us will figure it all out, and accomplish everything we dream of accomplishing. I'm proud of us.
Your friend,
LadybytheSea
P.S. here is the direct link to Sol LeWitt's letter to her friend Eva Hesse as read by Benedict Cumberbatch : https://youtu.be/VnSMIgsPj5M
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