First of all, thank you. Your words and subs have meant a lot to me!
I had a slow writing week, which usually means I’m in doubt. It means that I’m looking askance at my writing and checking to see if everything is above board. This is generally unhelpful when I’m working on a draft (vs. editing) and in fact can actually be a death blow, so that sucks.
I’m going to tell you something that I’ve been unsure of writing about, but it’s relevant and I can’t write about writing without including it and it’s NOT that big of a deal (lol) so anyway I was diagnosed with OCD in 2022. It was actually a huge relief to get the diagnosis and it answered a lot of questions about my history and my behaviors and importantly, about the doubt that has held me back and made me run and wasted my goddamn time!!! OCD is often called “the doubting disorder” and that’s right on (for what it’s worth, my OCD—and that of many others—has nothing to do with being tidy/organized/perfect—that’s not what OCD is and don’t get me started I’m not trying to do mental health awareness infographic stuff here but if you have any questions I’m happy to talk!).
Everyone experiences doubt of course and it’s part of any creative endeavor but mine has like a bonus pack you could say. I’ve done a lot of work on this over the past few years but it’s still there and can spiral into extreme bullshit really quickly, and the only option is to return again and again to the reality of its existence—and the existence and function of doubt in general—and choose to proceed with humility and faith. Choose (active participant) and proceed (“Don’t look back in anger” - Oasis) are the key things. Just keep going. Stop like, scowling and auditing. You can do that later. When I was a kid I was eating fried shrimp at a restaurant and the waiter came to check on us. I said that I was done, but there were a lot of shrimp left on my plate. The waiter looked at the shrimp and then looked at me and said, “Keep going.”
Etc:
Speaking of shrimp, I ate some on Sunday. Ann, Dan, and I took a Waymo (self-driving Google car—my first time) across the city to meet Sarah and Sasha at Killer Shrimp. When we arrived and pulled into the parking lot we saw that a classic car show was happening. Within seconds its attendees were pointing and laughing and laughing and laughing at the idiots (us) in the robot. This was mortifying and pure poetry. Another poem: Dan said that the first time he took a Waymo, it couldn’t comprehend a Willow tree.
Loren and I went to a sound bath in Frogtown. Before the bath we went on a walk along the LA River. We were stunned by how lush and beautiful it was. I guess I haven’t been there in a long time. We passed ducks and silky chickens and herons hiding in the wet grasses. Then we went to the bath and lied down on the floor. I looked over at Loren at one point while her eyes were closed, at her sweet calm face and her long black hair and her white socks, and I felt lucky to be alive.
We had some friends over to eat dinner and watch Sliding Doors. We watched A Perfect Murder a few months ago and wanted to keep the Gwyneth momentum going. The movie is fun and Gwyneth looks great.
Breakup hair on the right (the brown is a wig), perfect wardrobe, which the budget for was low according to the costume designer. A few items came from Prada, but “we were ultimately saved by Calvin Klein, a friend of Paltrow’s.”
I’ve always been an annoyingly good sleeper (head hits the pillow, I fall asleep, I wake up again in the morning refreshed—what a b), but I’ve been having trouble lately. It’s my age, isn’t it? I’m looking into it. In the meantime, Loren and Taz recommended a magnesium powder and it’s blue as fuck!!! It also tastes good and helped me fall asleep last night, I think.
You ever take a drink of water and spill most of it on your face and shirt and lap due to eager gulping? I just did that and it made me feel like a strong and confident child.
See you next week.
Two things about A Perfect Murder I think about a lot:
The establishing shot of Viggo’s art studio is the building that burned down in Greenpoint that was full of t-shirts.
When Michael Douglas visits Viggo’s art studio he says “I feel like I’m knee deep in bohemian cachet.”