dreamself

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2001-07-11 - 6:45 PM

Thinking today about my past life - about Atlanta with and without Jim, about how blah I was, about how truly sparky I was in my soul and in my mind and in my conversation, and yet how little art/writing/acting I actually made - How talented I knew I was and yet how little I used that talent. I mean - I was going through some emotional things that needed sorting out in my life, but still --

And now I feel strangly at peace with myself because I�m finally doing it. Finally this summer, or finally this week. I�m still not going hog wild, I mean I want to be Sissy Spacek but I haven�t applied for any acting jobs, I�m applying for stupid jobs in Antarctica. But if the Antarctica thing doesn�t work out, then I�m definitely pursuing acting here in Vancouver. If the Antarctica thing works out, then I�ll be glad too because I could use the money to get back on my feet financially in life. To pay off some debts, get a new place, hire an agent etc. - or to travel around the world. Or to buy a car. Money definitely CANNOT buy happiness -but it is usefull in our culture to help make some things happen for you.

My thing with writing is that I know I�m not that great of a writer. But I read so many books out there and I think - I can write at least as well as they can. And Jack Kerouac himself wasn�t published until later in his life. Whether it happens for me now or not the thing I�ve learned, or that I keep telling myself is -

Don�t stop. Write. Don�t stop. Write some more. All the time. Wherever. Whenever. Whatever. Do it. Keep doing it. Write.

And I figure that regardless of whatever happens in my life in a few years time I will have a body of work that I�ll be proud of. Some short stories, some poetry, a screenplay, a novel, some articles -- and I�ll start publishing. And 10 years after I�ve started publishing I will have a body of published work. I�ll try to be as honest, genuine, friendly, and grateful as I can to anybody who does me a favor, and I�ll try to do favors for other people when I can. I�ll send thank-you notes alot. And by the time I�m 50, I�ll have a book or two published and I�ll be proud of myself, I can die knowing that someone read what I wrote, knowing that my friends can introduce me as Hillary, my friend the novelist

Is that too much to ask out of life?

And I figure that all the strange experiences I have along the way, like going to Antarctica -- while they may not be directly related to any goals I have all of these things can provide me with ideas for future stories if only I let them - if only i open my own self to the flow of creative juices inside me.

I can do that. I can stay open. It will be hard, but I can stay open.

The thing about it all is, that its hard to stay real, to know you�re staying real, to know you�re staying open when you don�t have any direct tragedy or sadness in your life. I�m not wishing any upon myself, no way jose - but I mean that when I was going through all the crap with Jim I knew I was alive because I was in PAIN. And I cried alot. And I don�t cry so much anymore, because I don�t sweat the small stuff and I don�t have any big stuff happening, you know? So its hard to know that you�re staying in your feelings, which is what i want to do.

And with my writing -- there is so much good writing out there that has no feeling. I want to be sure that I�m really writing with feeling -- but at the same time I don�t want to drown others out in the melodrama of uneccessary emotion. Its a tough balance . . . I�m trying to write right on the fence, you know?

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