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January 30, 2012


I want to see some of these Things you make. :-) I'm always amazed by the Makers I know.

The reality: in the time it took me to write that post, I fixed yogurt for the girls, then had to get up and fix drinks, then had to let the dog out, had to answer the phone, sent the girls out to play, brought them back in after one did something that required screaming, enforced potty breaks, set them up with a TV show, had to enforce the not-watching of the streaming Netflix (because PBS has a built-in end point), threatened to turn it off if I heard that tone of voice ONE MORE TIME, let the dog back in, refused to fix more snacks, and realized I needed to start dinner.

In some ways it makes it harder to make things; in another way, though, it removes the internal editor -- because there simply isn't time to consider anything you do. You get faster.

Teresa, believe me when I say that it is easier for me to show the whole internet my tits. :)

Wow, you go girl.

By now, I should not be surprised to be reminded that there is fucking nothing that you cannot do.

I can't make an attractive omelet to save my life.

To be honest, I'm really grateful for the voice in my head that tells me, "You can't do that, you'll look like an idiot." That voice told me I could never publish anything. Later, she told me I could never play roller derby. She's told me for years that I wasn't smart or sexy or interesting enough and you know what? I've proved her wrong, every. single. time. It's what I do. She isn't really my enemy, she just knows how to motivate me. And now when she talks, I think to myself, "Bitch, just WATCH ME." XOXO

awesome, now you go and make those things, ok?

Oh, good point, Lisa!

I'm pretty sure you could make an attractive omelet if you really cared enough. I'm guessing you've calculated the opportunity cost and voted Nah.

I started a sketchbook called The Sketchbook of No Judgment. And even if I hate what I draw at the time I draw it, I won't erase it or tear it out. When I flip through it later, I love every single drawing.

I read a book many years ago about making art. The author told me that you have to make a whole lot of shit before anything good starts to come out. I agree. And as much as I wish I could skip that middle step- it's not possible. Ariel Gore also told me that I will look back on the first thing I publish and groan about how awful it was. I agree. But I have to publish it anyway. Carry on.

I love this. It's so different from the Jo I usually see. Even though you've strewn your ladyparts all over the internet, this is the most intimate, personal thing I've ever read from you.

And I love the new endeavor. Facing something scary. Committing to each small thing you decide to draw. Owning something just because it's yours. And not being afraid of small failures, because that's the only way to really learn.

At some point a few years back, it occurred to me that I could do things because I liked doing them, not because I was good at them. I could do things even if a realistic assessment of my progress meant I would never be very good at them. And since then I have done a number of things (a bunch of triathlons! gymnastics!) badly but with enthusiasm. And anyone who thinks I shouldn't be out there because I'll pretty certainly never win a race can kiss my rosy red ass.

I think I'm going to write "badly but with enthusiasm" on my hand with a Sharpie, every morning.

It seems like such an obvious thing, doing things because you want to. And yet (obviously): not.

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