.
STUNNING image and model.
From Kit Haselden
Lovely.
.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Blogs of Note. Part II
By Holly Becker.
Writing today’s topic for the Creativity Series was a bit of a struggle because I am sensitive to how the economy is affecting others and despite how badly I want to radiate hope and positivity I don’t want to come across as happy-go-lucky, annoying, or perhaps naive to the problems that many are facing. But you know what, I’m not going to over cook this because who knows, maybe some of you need this reminder so this week we’re going to talk about developing a sense of humor to not only help you be more creative but to keep you sane in a pretty messed up world.
How does developing a sense of humor inspire creativity? How can it help you get though hard times?
How does developing a sense of humor inspire creativity? How can it help you get though hard times?
It can really push down walls when you decide to lighten up and just be yourself without becoming overly concerned about the opinions of others. It can also protect you from your worst enemy which so often yourself. I can’t stress how important this is. When others are overly judgmental, negative, or when you find yourself being overly critical of yourself, it’s time to tap into your sense of humor.
I believe that laughter stimulates great thinking. When you are under less stress your thoughts flow more freely and your mind can wander a bit outside of the box.
A sense of humor helps us during the journey. Drama seems to up ratings on television but in real life, it only brings our ratings down. Friends may start to dodge us, clients could begin to call us into question, family members will avoid “stepping on eggshells” simply by withholding information that you really should be hearing. It’s a lot easier to communicate with someone who doesn’t fly off the handle over every little thing. This is the sign of someone who may need to tap into their sense of humor. The world does not revolve around any of us, we’re all going to hit problems and deal with annoyances often on a daily basis. There is no problem-free life, no perfect government, no ideal marriage partner. We’re all broken in one way or another with our own fears, dysfunctions, inabilities, dark sides, etc. It’s important to accept that fact and realize early on that nothing we take on is easy, whether that’s a new child, a career, or something that should be fun like starting a new hobby. Developing your creative side takes effort, failure often rides alongside success, so it’s unavoidable that the path you thought would be perfect may not be the same path you find yourself on in a few years. That’s where a sense of humor helps. Trust that the journey is often as rewarding, if not more, than reaching the actual goal. Allow your sense of humor to take the wheel when you feel like giving up or flipping out. During the hard times you may need to step outside of the ‘bubble’ you’re in and laugh at the situation a little.
Remind yourself that you’re human.
While sense of humor is important, going through life laughing things off and ignoring potential issues is dangerous. I’m certainly not encouraging laughing at funerals or telling your depressed friend to stop feeling sorry for herself. You have to take things seriously but there does come a point where you’ve taken something seriously so what’s next? You then have to start dealing with it, mending the problem, repairing or rebuilding, etc. It’s at that point when you can decide to put a positive spin on the situation or not. You can find some relief as you deal with your issue if you remember the good during the bad times.
Happy people are more creative, creative people are more productive, and productive people are well, happier. I once read somewhere that developing a more optimistic world view can help you become more resilient and that it’s good for your emotional and even physical health to lighten up and laugh. That’s good stuff there.
I could go on and on but you get the point of what I’m trying to say. Look at the good side. Keep your goals in front of you. Laughter really can be the best medicine. Before I sign off I want to leave you with a few tips on how I keep a positive outlook. First, I don’t take myself too seriously. If I screw up, I admit and move on. I even laugh out loud at myself in public — I once fell down the stairs at a party and laughed so hard I cried - and I was wearing a dress and high heels and clearly made an idiot of myself but I got up and started dancing again and just shook it off. Sometimes when I’m moody and crabby I don’t feel like laughing. At all. That’s when I immediately notice something is wrong so I’ll call a friend who I know will make me laugh, I look for my online friends, I put on some good music, or I watch something really random and stupid on YouTube. :)
By Holly Becker at Decor8
.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Attention Span, the slut.
.
Im feeling more than a little distracted lately. There is so much 'going on' that I feel like Im at the eye of a storm. Im standing within a very small tornado and everything is still. So still, and silent. Yet around me the wind roars, its swirls and roars and turns everything around me upside down. But inside at the core remains, its small, darkened by debris, and solitary. I can hear people outside my storm, theyre smiling and talking to me, we go places and we do things. I go to work and I exercise and I go to school, but everything is muffled.
I would like very much to see clearly beyond the turmoil right outside my very person. And Id like this because I have so much to look forward to, that I want to experience with every possible emotion and every inch of energy that I can muster.
A few months back Jim asked me to move in with him, in a place to rent all of our own. Initially I was excited, it seemed logical and perfectly timed, he was so adorably enthusiastic, and I wanted a change. Two weeks later I was in tears and he could not understand.** I was fearful of what could become. Our lives were so happy and smooth exactly as we were. Would we be tempting fate by taking the plunge, and would it upset our boat too much? I already had alot on my plate and holding a relationship together would not fit. Jim took it all in his stride, as he so often does, and looked at the whole scenario as just the next rung in the worlds 'most-awesome-est' ladder. He has never lived with a partner, where as I watched my last relationshop crumble, coming home to that man every day, and loving him just that little bit less every time. The universe knows that I did not want to go through that all again.
Jim held my hand while I ummm'd and ahhh'd. He shook his head in confusion, shrugged his shoulders to wait, and bit his tongue to stem the questions he wished to ask. Eventually, after much stern internal dialouge, I bit the bullet and agreed that it was the right move. It wasnt fair to lump him into the same package as a failed relationship from years prior, at a time when I was a much different person, not to mention dating a much different person.
Today I feel the little buzz when I realise how close we are to moving in. The collection of keys is 72 hours away (who's counting??) and our home is all ready to move in. We are all packed, and waiting for the onset of the weekend so that we can do it! The floor plans are in my head, I know what I want to go where, Im planning furniture purchases, and colours, and styles. Jim jokes on how Ive done such a backflip from FREAKOUT to nesting. Oh I hate that word... 'Nesting'. Im not nesting... Its just my design background coming forth. Or am I? I have to admit that the interior design is not the only thing Im thinking about. Im thinking about entertaining, and having guests, and where the nearest kitsch cafe is, and cooking dinners, and how long it will take me to ride Audrey (my bicycle) to the beach.
I am excited. Im crazy excited, and as the days pass I just wish for it to happen today, yesterday even.
In early March I wished for something very far away. I wished to have my family close by. And it was the only thing I wished for in all of that week. I wish alot, if you werent already aware. Financially I am in no position to fly to the other side of Australia to see the people, and the home and even the pets I miss the most. Only days after posting that wish, and that image, my mum contacted me. Flights were very cheap to Perth at the moment, and would I like to fly over and house-sit for a week while they went to Queensland? Heck yes! So mum brought me a ticket and and even extended it by a day, so that I could see them, sit with them, and talk about important shit, but also bullshit, as Ive so missed.
These two things take up most of my daily excitement (as my work is no longer stimulating and exciting as it once was - but that is a whole other matter) and distract me no end. Sometimes I find myself trying to forget that they are happening so that I can focus on the now... on my assignments due tomorrow, the tasks due by the end of this week. Is it fair to do that to myself? I dont know. Trying to block out all the interesting things that are coming up, so that I can get the crap out of the way first? Is this even a good way to look at it?
Im tired. Really I am. I see myself in the mirror most mornings and Im convinced Ive given up. And I do truly look tired, but not in such a way like a late night on the turps... moreso that I look beyond my years (without the wisdom), and some days are worse than others. Sometimes, the things I do are with such vigour, frantic, but for only a short while. Other things, I do not even attempt at all. My work is suffering, my university studies too. My attention span wanes as often as she pleases. She gets up to take coffee breaks and smoke-o breaks and the dirty trashbag has a regular secret rendevous with the guy down the hall... his name is Distraction. She goes off on little jaunts when she is meant to be dedicated to a task. And once she is gone, nothing can bring her back until she chooses. Sometimes the little tramp is gone for days with Distraction.
And I need a chastity belt for her, because Ive tried everything else that I can think of.
I keep thinking that I'll just wait for this thing, this task, or event, or habit, to pass me by.... and then things will be back to normal. But what is normal? This doesnt feel like normal, so it cant be. But Ive been waiting so long for everything to 'get out of my way', for me to exit the tornado, that Im not sure if normal really exists (or if the tornado does), or what it feels like when Ive found it.
**I do this, sometimes.
Im feeling more than a little distracted lately. There is so much 'going on' that I feel like Im at the eye of a storm. Im standing within a very small tornado and everything is still. So still, and silent. Yet around me the wind roars, its swirls and roars and turns everything around me upside down. But inside at the core remains, its small, darkened by debris, and solitary. I can hear people outside my storm, theyre smiling and talking to me, we go places and we do things. I go to work and I exercise and I go to school, but everything is muffled.
I would like very much to see clearly beyond the turmoil right outside my very person. And Id like this because I have so much to look forward to, that I want to experience with every possible emotion and every inch of energy that I can muster.
A few months back Jim asked me to move in with him, in a place to rent all of our own. Initially I was excited, it seemed logical and perfectly timed, he was so adorably enthusiastic, and I wanted a change. Two weeks later I was in tears and he could not understand.** I was fearful of what could become. Our lives were so happy and smooth exactly as we were. Would we be tempting fate by taking the plunge, and would it upset our boat too much? I already had alot on my plate and holding a relationship together would not fit. Jim took it all in his stride, as he so often does, and looked at the whole scenario as just the next rung in the worlds 'most-awesome-est' ladder. He has never lived with a partner, where as I watched my last relationshop crumble, coming home to that man every day, and loving him just that little bit less every time. The universe knows that I did not want to go through that all again.
Jim held my hand while I ummm'd and ahhh'd. He shook his head in confusion, shrugged his shoulders to wait, and bit his tongue to stem the questions he wished to ask. Eventually, after much stern internal dialouge, I bit the bullet and agreed that it was the right move. It wasnt fair to lump him into the same package as a failed relationship from years prior, at a time when I was a much different person, not to mention dating a much different person.
Today I feel the little buzz when I realise how close we are to moving in. The collection of keys is 72 hours away (who's counting??) and our home is all ready to move in. We are all packed, and waiting for the onset of the weekend so that we can do it! The floor plans are in my head, I know what I want to go where, Im planning furniture purchases, and colours, and styles. Jim jokes on how Ive done such a backflip from FREAKOUT to nesting. Oh I hate that word... 'Nesting'. Im not nesting... Its just my design background coming forth. Or am I? I have to admit that the interior design is not the only thing Im thinking about. Im thinking about entertaining, and having guests, and where the nearest kitsch cafe is, and cooking dinners, and how long it will take me to ride Audrey (my bicycle) to the beach.
I am excited. Im crazy excited, and as the days pass I just wish for it to happen today, yesterday even.
In early March I wished for something very far away. I wished to have my family close by. And it was the only thing I wished for in all of that week. I wish alot, if you werent already aware. Financially I am in no position to fly to the other side of Australia to see the people, and the home and even the pets I miss the most. Only days after posting that wish, and that image, my mum contacted me. Flights were very cheap to Perth at the moment, and would I like to fly over and house-sit for a week while they went to Queensland? Heck yes! So mum brought me a ticket and and even extended it by a day, so that I could see them, sit with them, and talk about important shit, but also bullshit, as Ive so missed.
These two things take up most of my daily excitement (as my work is no longer stimulating and exciting as it once was - but that is a whole other matter) and distract me no end. Sometimes I find myself trying to forget that they are happening so that I can focus on the now... on my assignments due tomorrow, the tasks due by the end of this week. Is it fair to do that to myself? I dont know. Trying to block out all the interesting things that are coming up, so that I can get the crap out of the way first? Is this even a good way to look at it?
Im tired. Really I am. I see myself in the mirror most mornings and Im convinced Ive given up. And I do truly look tired, but not in such a way like a late night on the turps... moreso that I look beyond my years (without the wisdom), and some days are worse than others. Sometimes, the things I do are with such vigour, frantic, but for only a short while. Other things, I do not even attempt at all. My work is suffering, my university studies too. My attention span wanes as often as she pleases. She gets up to take coffee breaks and smoke-o breaks and the dirty trashbag has a regular secret rendevous with the guy down the hall... his name is Distraction. She goes off on little jaunts when she is meant to be dedicated to a task. And once she is gone, nothing can bring her back until she chooses. Sometimes the little tramp is gone for days with Distraction.
And I need a chastity belt for her, because Ive tried everything else that I can think of.
I keep thinking that I'll just wait for this thing, this task, or event, or habit, to pass me by.... and then things will be back to normal. But what is normal? This doesnt feel like normal, so it cant be. But Ive been waiting so long for everything to 'get out of my way', for me to exit the tornado, that Im not sure if normal really exists (or if the tornado does), or what it feels like when Ive found it.
**I do this, sometimes.
Grandpa
.
For all of my adult life I have been gifted with an awareness of the external influence on my life. Of whisperings that guided me always, in the right direction, even if it seemed wrong in the beginning.
Ive always known that since my grandpa's death in 2001, he has watched over his eldest grandaughter with as much devotion as he showed all of his granchildren.
And Ive started to document the ways in which his helping hand has helped me to balance when I slipped. I will go into these in more detail at a later time.
Today:
On the weekend, my agent emailed to tell me that my modelling photos needed to be updated and Id be sure of securing more work if only I could provide her with something new to work with. Jimmy and I talked long and hard about my modelling that weekend. He wanted me to quit my job at the firm and pursue modelling more rigorously. He has ulterior motives for this I know, he watches me come home some nights so completely drained, hating my job, angry at the people I work with, and so utterly despondent, that he would almost suggest anything if only I came home happy. And he is convinced I could be the worlds greatest supermodel... oh bless him!
I know that I need new images, and I know that the potential for work is out there, but the reality is that there is SO much more I need to focus on to get through this year. Plus I need the right photographer, with the talent, to get new photos, and I havent got the money to pay them right now.
WELL. Today I received a phonecall from a man I worked with last year. His calendar was freeing up, and would I like to work with him?? Paid hourly, of course, and we can do images that would suit us both. BRILLIANT. Lovely new photos and a paycheck at the end of the day.
Thankyou Pa.
For all of my adult life I have been gifted with an awareness of the external influence on my life. Of whisperings that guided me always, in the right direction, even if it seemed wrong in the beginning.
Ive always known that since my grandpa's death in 2001, he has watched over his eldest grandaughter with as much devotion as he showed all of his granchildren.
And Ive started to document the ways in which his helping hand has helped me to balance when I slipped. I will go into these in more detail at a later time.
Today:
On the weekend, my agent emailed to tell me that my modelling photos needed to be updated and Id be sure of securing more work if only I could provide her with something new to work with. Jimmy and I talked long and hard about my modelling that weekend. He wanted me to quit my job at the firm and pursue modelling more rigorously. He has ulterior motives for this I know, he watches me come home some nights so completely drained, hating my job, angry at the people I work with, and so utterly despondent, that he would almost suggest anything if only I came home happy. And he is convinced I could be the worlds greatest supermodel... oh bless him!
I know that I need new images, and I know that the potential for work is out there, but the reality is that there is SO much more I need to focus on to get through this year. Plus I need the right photographer, with the talent, to get new photos, and I havent got the money to pay them right now.
WELL. Today I received a phonecall from a man I worked with last year. His calendar was freeing up, and would I like to work with him?? Paid hourly, of course, and we can do images that would suit us both. BRILLIANT. Lovely new photos and a paycheck at the end of the day.
Thankyou Pa.
Blogs of Note. Part I
.
"Better", By Merlin Mann.
Original found here
Politics, celebrity gossip, business headlines, tech punditry, odd news, and user-generated content.
These are the chew toys that have made me sad and tired and cynical.
Each, in its own way, contributes to the imperative that we constantly expand our portfolio of shallow but strongly-held opinions about nearly everything. Then we’re supposed to post something about it. Somewhere.
From businesses we’ve never heard of, to countries we’ve never visited, to infants who’ve had the random misfortune to be born into a family that’s on TV — it’s all grist for obvious jokes and shortsighted commentary that, for at least a few minutes, helps both the maker and the consumer feel a little less bored, a little less vulnerable, and a little less disconnected. For a minute, anyway, it makes us feel more alive. Does me, anyway.
But, in my observation, the long-term effect of each of these can be surprisingly different.
What makes you feel less bored soon makes you into an addict. What makes you feel less vulnerable can easily turn you into a dick. And the things that are meant to make you feel more connected today often turn out to be insubstantial time sinks — empty, programmatic encouragements to groom and refine your personality while sitting alone at a screen.
Don’t get me wrong. Gumming the edges of popular culture and occasionally rolling the results into a wicked spitball has a noble tradition that includes the best work of of Voltaire, Dorothy Parker, Oscar Wilde, and a handful of people I count as good friends and brilliant editors. There’s nothing wrong with fucking shit up every single day. But you have to bring some art to it. Not just typing.
What worries me are the consequences of a diet comprised mostly of fake-connectedness, makebelieve insight, and unedited first drafts of everything. I think it’s making us small. I know that whenever I become aware of it, I realize how small it can make me. So, I’ve come to despise it.
With this diet metaphor in mind, I want to, if you like, start eating better. But, I also want to start growing a tastier tomato — regardless of how easy it is to pick, package, ship, or vend. The tomato is the story, my friend.
This doesn’t mean I’ll be liveblogging a lot of ham-fisted attempts to turn “everything” off. But it does mean making mindful decisions about the quality of any input that I check repeatedly — as well as any “stuff” I produce. Everything. From news sources to entertainment programming, and from ephemeral web content down to each email message I decide to respond to. The shit has to go, inclusive.
To be honest, I don’t have a specific agenda for what I want to do all that differently, apart from what I’m already trying to do every day:
- identify and destroy small-return bullshit;
- shut off anything that’s noisier than it is useful;
- make brutally fast decisions about what I don’t need to be doing;
- avoid anything that feels like fake sincerity (esp. where it may touch money);
- demand personal focus on making good things;
- put a handful of real people near the center of everything.
All I know right now is that I want to do all of it better. Everything better. Better, better.
To underscore, I have no plan to stop making dick jokes or to swear off ragging people who clearly have it coming to them. It’s just that it’s important to me to make world-class dick jokes and to rag the worthy in a way that no one is expecting. I want to become an evangelist for hard work and editing, and I want to get to a place where it shows in everything that I do, make, and share. Yes, even if it makes me sound like a fancy guy who just doesn’t get it. Fuck it.
So, yes. I am cutting way back on trips to the steam table of half-finished, half-useful, half-ideas that I both make and consume. And, with respect, I encourage you to consider doing the same; especially if that all-you-can-eat buffet of snark and streaming produces (or encourages) anything short of your “A” game.
If I’m not laughing at your joke, complimenting your insight, or leading the Standing O for something you spent 10 seconds pecking up on your phone, it may not be because I don’t get it; it may be because I think we’re both capable of better and just need to find the courage to say so. In as many characters as it takes.
By Merlin Mann at 43 Folders.
.
"Better", By Merlin Mann.
Original found here
Politics, celebrity gossip, business headlines, tech punditry, odd news, and user-generated content.
These are the chew toys that have made me sad and tired and cynical.
Each, in its own way, contributes to the imperative that we constantly expand our portfolio of shallow but strongly-held opinions about nearly everything. Then we’re supposed to post something about it. Somewhere.
From businesses we’ve never heard of, to countries we’ve never visited, to infants who’ve had the random misfortune to be born into a family that’s on TV — it’s all grist for obvious jokes and shortsighted commentary that, for at least a few minutes, helps both the maker and the consumer feel a little less bored, a little less vulnerable, and a little less disconnected. For a minute, anyway, it makes us feel more alive. Does me, anyway.
But, in my observation, the long-term effect of each of these can be surprisingly different.
What makes you feel less bored soon makes you into an addict. What makes you feel less vulnerable can easily turn you into a dick. And the things that are meant to make you feel more connected today often turn out to be insubstantial time sinks — empty, programmatic encouragements to groom and refine your personality while sitting alone at a screen.
Don’t get me wrong. Gumming the edges of popular culture and occasionally rolling the results into a wicked spitball has a noble tradition that includes the best work of of Voltaire, Dorothy Parker, Oscar Wilde, and a handful of people I count as good friends and brilliant editors. There’s nothing wrong with fucking shit up every single day. But you have to bring some art to it. Not just typing.
What worries me are the consequences of a diet comprised mostly of fake-connectedness, makebelieve insight, and unedited first drafts of everything. I think it’s making us small. I know that whenever I become aware of it, I realize how small it can make me. So, I’ve come to despise it.
With this diet metaphor in mind, I want to, if you like, start eating better. But, I also want to start growing a tastier tomato — regardless of how easy it is to pick, package, ship, or vend. The tomato is the story, my friend.
This doesn’t mean I’ll be liveblogging a lot of ham-fisted attempts to turn “everything” off. But it does mean making mindful decisions about the quality of any input that I check repeatedly — as well as any “stuff” I produce. Everything. From news sources to entertainment programming, and from ephemeral web content down to each email message I decide to respond to. The shit has to go, inclusive.
To be honest, I don’t have a specific agenda for what I want to do all that differently, apart from what I’m already trying to do every day:
- identify and destroy small-return bullshit;
- shut off anything that’s noisier than it is useful;
- make brutally fast decisions about what I don’t need to be doing;
- avoid anything that feels like fake sincerity (esp. where it may touch money);
- demand personal focus on making good things;
- put a handful of real people near the center of everything.
All I know right now is that I want to do all of it better. Everything better. Better, better.
To underscore, I have no plan to stop making dick jokes or to swear off ragging people who clearly have it coming to them. It’s just that it’s important to me to make world-class dick jokes and to rag the worthy in a way that no one is expecting. I want to become an evangelist for hard work and editing, and I want to get to a place where it shows in everything that I do, make, and share. Yes, even if it makes me sound like a fancy guy who just doesn’t get it. Fuck it.
So, yes. I am cutting way back on trips to the steam table of half-finished, half-useful, half-ideas that I both make and consume. And, with respect, I encourage you to consider doing the same; especially if that all-you-can-eat buffet of snark and streaming produces (or encourages) anything short of your “A” game.
If I’m not laughing at your joke, complimenting your insight, or leading the Standing O for something you spent 10 seconds pecking up on your phone, it may not be because I don’t get it; it may be because I think we’re both capable of better and just need to find the courage to say so. In as many characters as it takes.
By Merlin Mann at 43 Folders.
.
Friday, March 6, 2009
15 minutes of fame
Yes the striped blue bikini in the carwash scene, and the white shorts in the laundromat scene is ME!
Long live Oz hip hop!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
My wish list for today
.
To sit down and have dinner with my parents, and to not have them on the other side of the country right now.
*sigh*
.
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