Southwest flight home

I’m reading a book about writing and it suggested that I write why I am writing (this blog) in order to inspire myself to keep doing it when I want to fall backwards into a pool of emails.

To give myself meaning to this part of my life. That I’m not saying anything new, but maybe in trying to describe my limited experience- I can participate and share with all of you (flowers and ghosts and trolls included) and maybe, inspire someone else to risk continuing forward with whatever their deal is- even when it seems like there are plenty of reasons not to (who cares, make money, no one needs to hear your opinion, etc). I know what I am: an extremely priviledged, sun damage spotted, shaky older white lady with a few generic character impressions. I am lazy, I did ok in college but not great, I’m no genius and I’m in the latter part of my life- after big success (for me, anyway) and without aspiration for anything bigger than ongoing employment due to above-mentioned sloth. And if I can act like my creativity is worth pursuing, with all the doubts and realities included, maybe someone will be able tell their, more interesting story and I will get to enjoy it. And honestly, and this is the less admirable (?) part, I’d love to have written a book. I love, love, love-love-love-love books.

3 thoughts on “Southwest flight home

  1. Love this post. Love you Maria. Just flew across the country on Air Canada watching Lady Dynamite for the fifth time to help with my fear of flying. So grateful for you.

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  2. That is an amazing idea Maria! A book about our favourite comedian! I can even see myself buy several copies, having the hard cover one signed and getting the audible version of it as well… narrated by the best Maria for the job 🙂 please revisit the idea.

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  3. thank you for sharing your creative struggle. i know you said you’re not really interested in talking about mental illness anymore, but as someone who is newly “stable” (~2 solid years with 5 since my last hospitalization) and also as someone who finds it incredibly difficult and painful to do things & make things (art) even though i ostensibly WANT to…it’s been so – forgive me – inspiring to read about your tactics for tricking, forcing, rewarding yourself into continuing. it’s honestly a gift to get to see your creative achievements alongside your blog bookends here about the process and how hard it can be to even want to do it! for me anyway that’s been a very specific intersection between mental illness and whatever drives us to make art or do stand up or – learning HOW to pursue creativity in spite of everything, anxiety/laziness/fear/existential doubt/imposter syndrome/executive dysfunction/the global rise of fascism/etc. thanks for keeping on keeping on, maria.

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