The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => Arts & Entertainment => Topic started by: side_show on August 03, 2004, 06:47:04 pm
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Since we are an offshoot of a poetry site, I'm interested in a little discussion of writers - both musical and poetic. I know I'm not the only one out there drawn to complicated sadness in art here. (Achewood, although funny had an underlying sadness to it, which I think, is what elevates it.) So what draws us to the suicide cases?
I've read most of Sylvia Plath's stuff, mostly because I took quite a few women's lit courses. Mostly, I don't think her writing was "successful" - there was so much striving to be clever in her work that the work itself gets swallowed. Yet the content that does come through - the sadness and distorted, lost girlhood of her work is beautiful and draws readers to her. Certainly, the majority of her success came after her death. She's not a bad writer, but also not a great one - she's no Adrienne Rich. (As a side note, please for the love god, DO NOT rent the horrible, horrible movie "Sylvia". It is so bad, my eyes almost started to bleed before I turned it off.)
Then there's Nick Drake. I bought Pink Moon at a dark time in my own life, and I found his music so shattering that I couldn't really listen to more than one or two songs at a time. Now that things are awesome, I recently I went to see a friend's band and they played a cover of "Place To Be" and I was reminded of this sad, sad man and his beautiful, naked music. I understand that Drake has a huge following now, and though he never live to see major success in his life time, his influence is spreading thanks in part to a Volkswagen commercial!
So does doing violence to the self draw the attention needed for people to actually recognize good writing, or does the concept that someone died "for their art" impose the "good art" label on their work posthumously whether is warrents it or not?
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Interesting question... I'm a fan of both Nick Drake (excepting his middle album) and Sylvia Plath (though I prefer The Bell Jar to her poetry in general).
I've often found myself interested in mentally ill writers, artists, and musicians, and in the concept of the difficulty of separating a clinical condition from a personality and a body of work. I'm intruiged by the fact that two authors I respect highly, James Joyce and Kurt Vonnegut, had schizophrenic children (I highly recommend Mark Vonnegut's book on schizophrenia, The Eden Express), and I wonder to what extent their originality of idea and syntax was a reflection of a partial expression of inhereted mental illness. Of course, that opens the discussion up to many more questions and issues (I've struggled with the question of to what extent I judge an artist by his or her life- taking the example of someone like Kerouac, who I consider a brilliant author, but a real asshole as a person).
I do think it's clear that there is to a large extent a martyr complex associated with artists who, as you said, did violence to themselves and are seen as having died "for their art", which is perhaps unfortunate. But there's also the fact that people who have unusual minds experience things in a different way, which makes for unusual, hence interesting art.
As a final point, how do you distinguish complicated sadness from ordinary sadness?
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...how do you distinguish complicated sadness from ordinary sadness?
I suppose by referring to "complicated sadness" I mean the sort of sadness that is contemplated and can not be necessarily pinned down. I suppose the distinction is similar to that between depression and clinical depression.
For example: My puffer giraffe died after months of trying to save her from a disease. I was sad, but there was no need to ponder this sadness, to examine it, and it certainly did not permeate into my day-to-day life in a way that effected living. This was not a complicated sadness.
Another example: I deal with Metis elders and veterans everyday. They tell me stories of the genocide inflicted upon them - of their children being taken away, of attempts to eradicate their culture, of rape and abuse, and of hatred both from outside sources and inner torment. This is a sadness that permeates these men and women's every breath. Certainly they are not all totally possessed by sadness, and live lives that hopefully contain joy as well as sorrow, but each speaks to me of a desire to understand this sadness, which can be as broad as "why was my culture targeted?" to as specific as "why didn't I know my parents." Complicated sadness, to me has ties to a questing for meaning. Drake and Plath, through their art, display a quest to put meaning to sadness, while this meaning may or may not be found, there is, typically, a path under taken.
In regard to mental illness and art, a friend of mine wrote a thesis, which in broad terms, concludes that mental illness in art is a metaphor for art itself. It's an interesting idea - not one I agree with, but it is interesting.
I have a hard time seperating the artist from the work too - mentally ill or not. Most people do. This is why there is so much pondering as to who Chris Onstad really is. Is there so much speculation about him because if we knew his dark and scary secrets that we would be enriched that much more as readers of his strip, or is it that we live in a cult of celebrity?
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For some reason, as of late, the literary and auiditory art I've been drawn to has been really, really, intensely bleak: sad, yes, but without any real meaning or hope for redemption. I see this in Faulkner and a lot of Southern authors/musicians, and also in the writings of World War I poets, like Sassoon. Also, I'm pretty much obsessed with alt-country, country, bluegrass and roots music, and I see a lot of stuff in that. Bill Monroe was born with one eye turned inside, and, as a result, spent most of his childhood hiding in the woods; he later attributed the "lonesomeness" of some of his work to the experience of hiding from his family deep in the dark, dark pines. I don't know, but something about living in an overarching, meaningless sadness is very interesting to me.
SHORT VERSION: I like it when sadness DOESN'T mean stuff!
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The idea of "overarching, meaningless sadness" is an interesting idea to me, but it's not one that's viscerally satisfying to me on any level. I guess I prefer constructive, dynamic sadness -- a sense of depression you move through, that develops in its own way and eventually meets some sort of resolution or conclusion. Intellectually I can appreciate sadness for sadness's sake, but viscerally -- well, viscerally half the time I'm listening to someone like PUSA or TMBG* or the Dead Milkmen anyway. I'm a plebe.
I have a lot of friends who are desperately into Plath, but I've never really quite cottoned to her. She certainly had a gift for writing, but she was so tied up in seeming clever and in deliberate obfuscation of her own issues that I just don't get anything from it. I admire writers who write transparently to work through or struggle with their own issues, but reading Plath to me feels like having one of those "conversations" with a very smart but deeply troubled friend where she rants at you for four hours about her relationship to her parents (or whatever), you nod occasionally, and by the end she's made no progress and you have no comprehension. Her work is interesting to examine but somehow feels like it's not worth my time -- intellectually intriguing, viscerally repulsive.
In summary: I probably have no taste.
* One of the things I have always found admirable about They Might Be Giants is their facility at writing listenable, even enjoyable songs grown out of sadness and tragedy. The poppiness of songs like "My Man," "A Self Called Nowhere," and "Dead" somehow manages to complement the content without dulling it or being overshadowed by it.
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My cats' breath smells like cat food.
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My cats' breath smells like cat food.
Amen.
I'd like to point out that as we get older and further away from the insulated warmth of academia, we realize even more that life has so much actual sadness to experience that going to the effort to absorb someone else's becomes moot at best and selfserving at worst. This is not to say sad things don't happen on college campuses, by the way.
It only gets worse from here, kids. Stay in school as long as you can.
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It only gets worse from here, kids. Stay in school as long as you can.
I read this, and was kind of sad, and then I saw that swinging nutsack again. GOD. Can you somehow edit your avatar so the squirrel isn't even in it, and it's JUST a tiny, swinging nutsack?
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I know I stepped down as a mod on this board, but for the love of god will someone please disable that avatar?
Sweet fuck*ng CHRIST.
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I don't know how.
Also, I think it has hypnotized me. I'm getting sleepy...
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I'd like to point out that as we get older and further away from the insulated warmth of academia, we realize even more that life has so much actual sadness to experience that going to the effort to absorb someone else's becomes moot at best and selfserving at worst. This is not to say sad things don't happen on college campuses, by the way.
It only gets worse from here, kids. Stay in school as long as you can.
Despite my interest in the discussion of sadness and suicidal artists, I have to interject that my life has been majorly up hill since university ended for me a few years back. I'd gladly go back to school, yes, but things aren't going to hell in a hand basket.
Also, Aloha, I love how we we're all having a serious discussion of art and then your avatar soiled us by it's presence. I know I've taken issue with your other avatar - the one that made me think of unspeakable acts of cannibalism, but I gotta say I enjoy the squirrel nuts, and yes, I agree with Bozack that it'd be an improvement to just see the swinging sack alone. Extra points for choosing two avatars in a row that arouse disgust!
Side story: My hyperaware-of-pop-culture friend and I were out shopping when I spotted X-mas wrapping paper with the above mentioned squirrel all over it. I thought it was funny and I said "hey Bill look at this- he's got big nuts!" to which my friend sniffed and said " Yeah, I saw that, like three months ago. Do you want to go get lunch?" Burn. Too-cool-for-school type street cred. for having seen the swinging nut sack squirrel before me? How can this be?
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I don't know how.
Also, I think it has hypnotized me. I'm getting sleepy...
Okay, no problem. I changed it to a photo of a really ugly person.
He can change it to something else later.
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Also, Aloha, I love how we we're all having a serious discussion of art and then your avatar s one that made me think of unspeakable acts of cannibalism
Wait, which one was this? Did I miss an AD avatar somewhere?
The only ones I remember are "dancin' orangutan," "a dog wearing a lei," and the squirrel thing (and now jough's m4d h4xing). Did I miss something horrible, or do dogs with leis just make you think of cannibalism?
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It was the one where it looked like the cartoon AD was going to eat the baby.
Anyway, those squirrel nuts... just HAD to go...
All apologies AD, but I thought you would've known better than that.
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I still take extreme umbrage at the alleged cannibalism overtones of the other avatar, for shit's sake, all I did was fill out the form at the site.
Sorry you guys have a problem with a rodent with bigger balls than you. I'll see what I can do to keep your panties from bunching up next time.
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I still take extreme umbrage at the alleged cannibalism overtones of the other avatar, for shit;s sake, all I did was fill out the form at the site.
Sorry you guys have a problem with a rodent with bigger balls than you. I'll see what I can do to keep your panties from bunching up next time.
At least your sig was more appropriate than ever.
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Dang, and I was really wanting to sex CortJstr up, too. I'm wounded.
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I swear to god I don't WANT to ban AlohaDawg, but FUCK I may have to.
Dude, I don't know how else I can say this, and I can't even believe that we have to have a rule for this, but
NO AVATARS FEATURING GENITALIA
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I love you all.
Well, most of you. Some of you, anyhow.
Aww, who am I kidding?
My cats' breath smells like cat food.
Amen.
I'd like to point out that as we get older and further away from the insulated warmth of academia, we realize even more that life has so much actual sadness to experience that going to the effort to absorb someone else's becomes moot at best and selfserving at worst. This is not to say sad things don't happen on college campuses, by the way.
It only gets worse from here, kids. Stay in school as long as you can.
To get back on topic: I'm glad your life is looking up since leaving school - I guess what I meant to say was that in some ways, sad events and sadness in general is cumulative, and that (at least in my case) I have much more experience with things like death, sickness, heartbreak and sorrow than I did as a young person. Staying in school would not have prevented all of it, although I think there is a certain amount of cockeyed optimism and idealism to be found in most universities and I think that helps in some ways...I guess what I meant to say was that I'm old and tired. And sad because I see the world as it is now, and not as it will be once I change it.
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Also, Aloha, I love how we we're all having a serious discussion of art and then your avatar s one that made me think of unspeakable acts of cannibalism
Wait, which one was this? Did I miss an AD avatar somewhere?
The only ones I remember are "dancin' orangutan," "a dog wearing a lei," and the squirrel thing (and now jough's m4d h4xing). Did I miss something horrible, or do dogs with leis just make you think of cannibalism?
You missed this one: (http://fourcatsinabag.blogspot.com/Dawg2.gif)
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Also, Aloha, I love how we we're all having a serious discussion of art and then your avatar s one that made me think of unspeakable acts of cannibalism
Wait, which one was this? Did I miss an AD avatar somewhere?
The only ones I remember are "dancin' orangutan," "a dog wearing a lei," and the squirrel thing (and now jough's m4d h4xing). Did I miss something horrible, or do dogs with leis just make you think of cannibalism?
You missed this one: (http://fourcatsinabag.blogspot.com/Dawg2.gif)
Oh, right! Well, I thought that was cute and entirely forgot the cannibalism-related issues raised about it. So there.
Anyway -- AD, dude, this isn't worth argument. Please don't get too irritated. We will cheerfully accept your genitalia-free avatars.
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I can't maintain righteous indignation much longer than 40 minutes or so without an angry mob behind me. I probably won't keep this current avatar around long either. It's all good.
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Goshdarnit why do I keep forgetting that I have to read all the threads even the ones whose alleged topics don't interest me? Agreeing with AlohaDawg that life is sad enough that I don't need to read a thread about sad artists, I skip the whole thing, and then it turns into a totally entertaining avatar argument.
The new kid is a hoot but I miss the dog in the lei.
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To get back on topic: I'm glad your life is looking up since leaving school - I guess what I meant to say was that in some ways, sad events and sadness in general is cumulative, and that (at least in my case) I have much more experience with things like death, sickness, heartbreak and sorrow than I did as a young person.
I have to agree with you there - that for the majority sadness and the bad things that occur are cumulative. I think my thought process there was a little off because my life was a bit reversed - dealing with family deaths in car crashes, through suicide, etc, the mental illness of a parent and the psychological break down of my first love all in my early years. University for me was a major turning point toward the idea that things could be better.
I think there is a certain amount of cockeyed optimism and idealism to be found in most universities and I think that helps in some ways.
Definitly. University is a huge privledge that I wish everyone could have a chance for, if they wanted it. I do miss school terrible. Getting to go be with a bunch of like-minded dorks and spend my who day dreaming and making art was wonderful.
I guess what I meant to say was that I'm old and tired. And sad because I see the world as it is now, and not as it will be once I change it.
The ability to create change never ends. The chance to directly shape the life of your forth-comming child is a huge opportunity to make the world a better place by guiding your wee one to be one of those human beings who people are happy to know.
Working with Elders here in my community, I have a totally different perspective on aging than I did before I started. Unlike the mainstream concept of the elderly as useless or in the way, there is, in First Nation/Metis culture, the feeling that Elders have a huge amount to share. That thier knowledge must shape the future. The Cree term for Elders directly translates to mean "the ones who know." Certainly my pollyanna attitude might be, in part, comming from my youthful optimism, but I do meet and work with people daily of all ages who are agents of change. I have seen actual, marked improvements made: I'm not talking only in a broad sense that things are looking up, but also of a clear specific improvement of the quality of life of people in my community backed up by numbers.
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To get back on topic: I'm glad your life is looking up since leaving school - I guess what I meant to say was that in some ways, sad events and sadness in general is cumulative, and that (at least in my case) I have much more experience with things like death, sickness, heartbreak and sorrow than I did as a young person.
I have to agree with you there - that for the majority sadness and the bad things that occur are cumulative. I think my thought process there was a little off because my life was a bit reversed - dealing with family deaths in car crashes, through suicide, etc, the mental illness of a parent and the psychological break down of my first love all in my early years. University for me was a major turning point toward the idea that things could be better.
I have to agree, although I'm coming at this with far less of a weight of years. I've read a lot of literature about how the conventional model for women in my situation is that childhood is happy but middle school sees the beginning of a downward spiral of melancholy and dysfunction, peaking in college -- whereas, for me, elementary school was misery and every step up sense has been an increase in happiness, well-being, and life functionality. Not that college is entirely roses, of course, but I remain bemused at the fact that I'm slowly turning into a functional human being just when I've been told that I should really be developing bulimia and codependency.
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I have to agree with you there - that for the majority sadness and the bad things that occur are cumulative. I think my thought process there was a little off because my life was a bit reversed - dealing with family deaths in car crashes, through suicide, etc, the mental illness of a parent and the psychological break down of my first love all in my early years. University for me was a major turning point toward the idea that things could be better.
I have to agree, although I'm coming at this with far less of a weight of years. I've read a lot of literature about how the conventional model for women in my situation is that childhood is happy but middle school sees the beginning of a downward spiral of melancholy and dysfunction, peaking in college -- whereas, for me, elementary school was misery and every step up sense has been an increase in happiness, well-being, and life functionality. Not that college is entirely roses, of course, but I remain bemused at the fact that I'm slowly turning into a functional human being just when I've been told that I should really be developing bulimia and codependency.
I'm just going into university, but experienced something similar, in that everything's been more or less uphill since I was 10-12, which was when I had the cluster of bad experiences, with one family member committing suicide and another having drug problems, and me mostly just being an intelligent but very awkward kid dealing with a lot of precocious teen angst. However in the interim I've apparently, much to my surprise, developed rudimentary social skills and found a large network of friends I actually enjoy.
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I have to agree, although I'm coming at this with far less of a weight of years. I've read a lot of literature about how the conventional model for women in my situation is that childhood is happy but middle school sees the beginning of a downward spiral of melancholy and dysfunction, peaking in college -- whereas, for me, elementary school was misery and every step up sense has been an increase in happiness, well-being, and life functionality. Not that college is entirely roses, of course, but I remain bemused at the fact that I'm slowly turning into a functional human being just when I've been told that I should really be developing bulimia and codependency.
Middle school was horrible for me too.
I have this general model of wellness that is slowly morphing into a sort of "personal strategic plan" as I continue to mess with it. Basically, my premise is twofold: First, that each person has to have a set of values and convictions. Otherwise most actions they take and events of which they are a part lack any meaning beyond the moment. Second, that in general, continuously working toward general wellness in 6 broad categories is necessary, and that in without a minimal level of general wellness, an individual has little chance of recognizing and taking greatest advantage of opportunities as they present themselves, thus they find themselves trapped in circumstances they feel they can't escape.
Each second that goes by increases the difficulty level for self-fueled life change, so earlier is better. It is never too late to become healthy and well, either.
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Working with Elders here in my community, I have a totally different perspective on aging than I did before I started. Unlike the mainstream concept of the elderly as useless or in the way, there is, in First Nation/Metis culture, the feeling that Elders have a huge amount to share. That thier knowledge must shape the future. The Cree term for Elders directly translates to mean "the ones who know."
Keep the pollyanna thing as long as you can, it's pure energy. Also, everyone should spend time with the Kupuna, which is the Hawaiian word for the wiser elders too. They hold the history in their heart, and it's far more meaningful than anything from a book. You should video interviews, tape them, do everything you can to capture their intonations and expressions as well as their words. Words in a book are pretty dry compared to the experience of their wisdom.
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Each second that goes by makes increases the difficulty level for self-fueled life change, so earlier is better. It is never too late to become healthy and well, either.
The first statement is definitely true. I hope the second is also.
What are your six categories?
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Middle school was horrible for me too.
Middle school is invariably horrible for everyone.
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Middle school was horrible for me too.
Middle school is invariably horrible for everyone.
a brief snapshot:
While shaving my legs, I notice the scars on my knee, and I think "damn you Ryan Rebenchuk!" You see, in my middle school years, Ryan was a dorky kid who got picked on quite a bit. I tried to be his friend, but he lacked the social skills nessisary to be an enjoyable person to be around. I am standing on the play ground, Ryan is being chased by several other boys who want to beat him up. He runs at me and hurls me to the ground in an attempt to turn me into some sort of human road block. My knee is horribly cut and I end up in the office, where the secretary applies all those mysterious things that burn, smell and look weird. "Damn you Ryan Rebenchuk!"
Flash to me in highschool -grade 10. I've changed schools and managed to carve my niche in the "B" group of artey intellectuals (the "A" group is, of course, jocks, rich kids and cheerleader types). In the middle of the school year, who transfers in but Ryan. Just before he transfers in, his mother calls my mother and asks that Ryan and I go to a movie together so that he'll have a friend at his new school. I don't want to go, but mom guilts me into it. When he arrives at my school, he proceeds to tell everyone that we are dating. I deny this, but for months the rumour persists. "Damn you Ryan Rebenchuk!!"
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I have this general model of wellness that is slowly morphing into a sort of "personal strategic plan" as I continue to mess with it. Basically, my premise is twofold: First, that each person has to have a set of values and convictions. Otherwise most actions they take and events of which they are a part lack any meaning beyond the moment. Second, that in general, continuously working toward general wellness in 6 broad categories is necessary, and that in without a minimal level of general wellness, an individual has little chance of recognizing and taking greatest advantage of opportunities as they present themselves, thus they find themselves trapped in circumstances they feel they can't escape.
Each second that goes by makes increases the difficulty level for self-fueled life change, so earlier is better. It is never too late to become healthy and well, either.
Wow, that's almost a mathematical formula. Do you find that really focusing on wellness like this helps you work toward achieving it?
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Middle school was horrible for me too.
Middle school is invariably horrible for everyone.
a brief snapshot:
While shaving my legs, I notice the scars on my knee, and I think "damn you Ryan Rebenchuk!"
Man, I think everyone had a kid like this in their grade. I spent several years hoping constantly in the back of my brain that a kid named Bernard Solomon would just die. Just keel over of sudden unexplained everything failure.
If that seems harsh, let me explain: Bernard was a kid in my gym class who harrassed me constantly. After a while, he'd show up at the municipal library to yell fat jokes at me while I was attempting to get some reading done. (I assume he went to the library for reasons other than yelling invective at me, but you never know.) Eventually this resulted in the closest I ever got to a fight, which resulted in a semi-tearful conversation with the vice principal, which resulted in the vice principal not doing shit, which resulted in the tiny but constant prayer that Bernard would just die.
(This was the same vice principal who went berserk at the airport when his Christmas-break flight was cancelled and had to be hauled off by security after screaming at the top of his lungs at the desk lady for about five minutes, so I guess my expectations should not have been high.)
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Yeah, I think it's sort of odd- for people like us (pseudo-nerdy, I guess is the term I would use), we seem to have really shitty times early in life, and then, as we grow older, we kind of come into our own. Actually, I don't know if this is the norm- maybe, without the internet, we would have all gone insane. Or become H.A.M. radio enthusiasts.
Middle school sucked for me; I don't actually remember most of it, but what I do remember (kicked in nads at school, threatened with knife at home) sucked hard on giant donkey balls. And, thinking back, I was pretty socially awkward+also a dick. Then, somewhere along the line, I got better, and now I do things on weekends. THE END.
Actually, a few friends have a theory that I'm actually socially retarded and have no idea how to relate to people; however, I've read enough books to sythesize the personality of a normal human male.
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Actually, I don't know if this is the norm- maybe, without the internet, we would have all gone insane. Or become H.A.M. radio enthusiasts.
You joke, but my elementary-school Gifted and Talented teacher was big into H.A.M. radio and tried to convert all of his young charges in turn. (In other ways he was an awesome, totally normal guy; I guess he was the one "normal person" statistical blip on the H.A.M.-radio-enthusiast band.) I recall being sort of mystified by the idea that you could use a radio and send your voice out to an entire world of possible listeners -- and then you can talk to people! Even people from really strange places!
(Strange, and somehow sad, to realize that I am even now living my childhood dream.)
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Each second that goes by makes increases the difficulty level for self-fueled life change, so earlier is better. It is never too late to become healthy and well, either.
The first statement is definitely true. I hope the second is also.
What are your six categories?
The model I like to use looks at Physical, Emotional, Intellectual, Social, Occupational, and Spiritual dimensions of wellness. These are broad but cover for the most part wellness aspects of a healthy lifestyle. As I mentioned, some sense of core values is also important in that experiences are filtered through them to become skill, knowledge, wisdom or ability. And decisions and actions are arrived at through the filter of (core values + knowlege, skill, wisdom, ability + level of wellness in core attributes) as well. Sounds like a character in an RPG, but really, aren't we all rolling D20s all day anyhow? The difference is that what happens inside of each of us is a lot less random.
Wow, that's almost a mathematical formula. Do you find that really focusing on wellness like this helps you work toward achieving it?
What I find often is that it helps people frame things better. What I think happens to a lot of people is that they never looked at a framework, a way to analyze their life's needs in a way that also allows them to set themselves up for accomplishment. Looking at your own strengths and needs allows you to work towards general wellness. At the point where you have general wellness, you become capable of recognizing and appropriately handling opportunities to improve your life as well as handling threats to your wellness. I look at Wellness as generally having more pluses than minuses in each category, and having the categories more or less balanced. That is, for example, working on your physical wellness doesn't impact on your mental wellness (eating disorders, using steroids, excessive dieting, body image, et. cetera). A person in superb physical condition who neglects important relationships in his life is not well. A person so wrapped in spirituality that their emotional balance is affected is not well. And so on.
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A pedantic note: I think amateur radio enthusiats are "hams", a shortening/corruption of "amateur". It's not an abbreviation (like H.U.G.S.Qu.A.D.).
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I agree with earlier is better, but not necessarily with an increase in difficulty, at least not until well into the end game of life.
I wonder how old you are? Because the older I get the more I see that people around me are stuck where they are. I don't think it's just my circumstances (first surrounded by people with tenure, then people with insane government job security). When I quit my job to try to change careers one friend said that everyone she told this to said "Oh wow, I wish I could do that but I never could." These were all women in their late 30s and early 40s, hardly the end of life I hope. But they really reacted like I'd done something almost superhuman.
The longer you do one thing or act one way, the deeper you dig the rut till you can't see over the edges to see what the other possible routes are. And you accumulate mental and practical baggage (mortgage, family etc) - there's more stuff to carry and you can't just turn on a dime anymore, if you ever could. It's maybe not age so much as accumulated time being one kind of person, but obviously that is only going to happen as you are alive for more years.
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I guess what it comes down to is if you're going to let your life experiances be a sea anchor, or a sail.
I think I need to print this out and tape it to the wall.
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BTW: I'm changing industries and relocating to another state. It's the biggest project of my life and I am geeked to pull this thing off.
Dammit, and I'm moving to the South Bay this month. There goes the nearest TOUAMB person. Where you moving to?
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I guess what it comes down to is if you're going to let your life experiences be a sea anchor, or a sail.
I think I need to print this out and tape it to the wall.
Asherdan: this line is basically like treasure.