Friday, May 18, 2012

Strange Chapter 2

   Change is a funny thing.  When I watched Can't Stop, the documentary about Conan O'Brien, I realized that I'd forgotten how much we humans are alike.  You'd think that nothing about this documentary would apply to your own experiences, and you'd be dead wrong.

Size matters not.  A very wise being has taught us.
Bigger inside than out.  Wise words from a very small other.

  While I watched, I was reminded that creative humans are driven similarly, and that the roller coaster ride of using one's craft to support one's life is difficult on every level of 'success.'    I learned some things about this firsthand in my experiences with Neil Gaiman.  Having had the opportunity to spend enough time to know the writer at work and the human at rest, along with the very human transitions that come with life.  And of grace.
Change.  It's inevitable and sometimes it's gradual.  But sometimes we get knocked over sideways by a big event, or a cascade of big events. 

 What we're really thinking about here is adaptation

  One of the things Conan talks about in the documentary is his pivotal moment- a particular morning when he woke up after months of agonizing depression and knew he'd turned a corner. I think he said something more along the line of "getting my balls back," but you  get the gist of it.  By the time I watched that documentary, I'd began to be afraid that I wouldn't be having that experience.  Don't get me wrong, I've pulled myself off the floor more than once in my life, dusted myself off.    But when things go badly for long enough, we can start to doubt that change will come, even though everything reasonable and rational dictates that indeed it will. 
  The funny thing is, when I started to know I'd turned a corner, it came very quietly.  I honestly thought it would be bigger, some fanfare for the shift.   But no.  Today I'm looking back over the past few weeks and realizing that it's been creeping up on me.  Others noticed before I did.

  I posted recently that I had the sensation that I'd walked into the ruin of a room after a party and was frozen, not knowing where to start.   I didn't realize that walking into the room was a beginning--was, symbolically - what happened after 'waking up.'

  I hesitate to post about this. What if I have a bad day?  What if that means I was wrong?  I will have a bad day.  It won't mean I'm wrong. 
  It will mean adaptation is not a straight line.

   I did eventually decide where to start.  Close to home.   It seems such a little thing, this change.  Time will tell.  But it's a start.
I want to introduce you to  Little Red Poppet.  You can add 2.0 if you like.   Or organic  if you like.  It is that, in style, with softer lines and more fluidity.  And in the materials, which are infinitely greener than resin.    (I feel good about that.) Still, always watching.
 Eliminating resin casting is a simple but  fundamental change that will free me to work
more creatively.
 This change will open the door to others. 

 Adaptation and evolution.  Poppets told us this was coming.    Your Classic Red Poppet is officially that.    And your artist is, once again, dusting off her pants and tying on her apron.
  Yes.  It's a start.  If you're feeling bogged down, do watch the documentary.  Even if you're not a fan of Conan, you may well relate to the process. You may find out you're doing exactly what you should.  And I'll keep posting so you can watch me slip and stumble through mine.   Thank you, as always, for being here. 


mordicai said...

Classic Poppets will survive past the apocalypse!

lisa said...

Indeed they will. They are here as observers only, but secretly I think they may be rooting for us.

mordicai said...

I might be rooting for them.

Carrie said...

I am a hopeless failure when it comes to seeing my way out of my depression dips. I shall most certainly try to watch the documentary and thank you for sharing and always being there for us in truth x

lisa said...

mordacai: they'll be happy to hear that.

lisa said...

carrie: No, you're not. It's a difficult thing. Sometimes the best you can do is recognize it when you're in it, so that you don't make damaging decisions. We're in very good company. Some of the brightest and most creative of humans struggle with depression. We're in this thing together, for sure.