"Learn to say 'Fuck You' to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, numbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eying, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding, grinding, grinding away at yourself. Stop it and just DO!"
-excerpted from a letter sent from Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse
Sorting through my file boxes today, hoping for a little pre-quarter organization, I found an old issue of Art on Paper that included a letter written by Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse. Beside reigniting my Hesse fire and calling me to revisit her sculpture work, the above portion of the letter felt a little incriminating. It was if LeWitt was writing to me, heard all of my teary, whiny ramblings from the past few months, and was setting me straight. The truth is, and I know of at least three guys in my life who are now sighing and shaking their heads, I've been feeling a little lost, a little unsure, a little, maybe a lot, incapable of the thing I thought I wanted to spend my life doing. It's not new, this feeling, to me or anyone else, and the rational part of my brain nods its head at all the reasons why I am and will be okay. Unfortunately, the other part of my brain, the sensitive, fragile part, is stubborn and selfish. I thought I'd come up with some grand solution over the holiday break, put a plan in motion and beat these blues of ineptitude. Oh, if only it were that easy, right?
Instead, I've decided to just do for a while. I'm going to take a little break from seeking solutions and maybe, if I'm lucky, stumble upon something I didn't even know I wanted. To do this, I will be blogging every day for the month of January, possibly longer. There is so much to talk about really, like loaded baked potato soup, the McSweeney's Quarterly San Fransisco Panorama edition, the best novel I've read in a long time, Portland, scanners, wood rings, Christmas villages, the number of clementines one should eat in a single sitting, and why UNO is maybe the best game ever invented.
I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited. I'm a fan of little bits and this kind of blogging fosters the little bits. I would like to ask one favor, if I may, although with all these wimpy, whiny posts lately, I'm not sure about how much right I have for requests, but just in case... I'd like to ask you to please comment when you can. I put a counter on the blog, set up to note unique hits, and it has definitely gone beyond the five or so people I know read this page, two of which are family members obligated by blood.