can't take more clothes off when you are already naked

Two weeks ago, I shared with you my feelings about reading my own writing out loud.  To recap - it was scary.  People have asked me about the actual story, so I figured I was naked enough already that showing you my actual story couldn't make me any less undressed.

So, I posted it.

If you want to know what an event horizon is - this is an article that I found that really actually explains it pretty well. . . (picture from that website - thank you Stephen Hawking for making science digestible for the common).

Internet rabbit hole

I have just spent the last two hours falling down the internet rabbit hole.  We all know it.  We all have done it.

I don't know if it means anything and I don't know if anyone will be inspired by any of these things.  But I was and now I feel better.  And the best part?  It inspired me to write.  Maybe it isn't a fiction story, but it is writing.  They say that practicing your craft will only help (well, to those of us that are firmly on the side that one must practice writing to be good at it - this is a whole other rabbit hole, just trust me on this today).

So. . . enjoy, be inspired, and love.  Happy Valentine's day to you. . .

The requisite AFP - http://www.amandapalmer.net/category/blog/

First, it led me to watch "Hallelujah" covered by Amanda Palmer, but then because she said something about Leonard Cohen (Songs of Leonard Cohen), I had to buy that album.  I am currently immersing myself in this album while I write.

And then when as I was reading comments on that blog, I saw that I could have a download of AFP and GTO's Boston concert which has some freakin' awesome shit on it.

 https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B8RObsTF1QYELVRSMkdnWEJtazQ/edit?pli=1

And as I kept reading, I read (or really read more) about Becca Darling, the bee charmer who was a dear friend of Miss Amanda who passed recently.  She had a music blog and has provided many gifts of music.  I have been trying to find a way to get more music in my life, so I spent some time listening and will be spending some serious time there.

http://thebeecharmer.wordpress.com

This listening made me think about my friend Courtney  (@c_johnston) who was tired of not having a great music blog, so started one herself . . . and I'm sad because I don't think she knew about the bee charmer AND because she hasn't posted in a month.

http://courtneyheardthis.tumblr.com

Then as I was reading some "back issues" of Miss Amanda's blog, I read about Amanda Todd and started reading about bullying and the foundations her mother has shared with everyone.  And the comments are amazing.  I wanted to share my own bullying story, but it's so old and I'm not sure where to start or what I want to accomplish by telling people about it.  But I have one, and I was scared and sad until almost my junior year in high school.  I'm sure people that know me might be very surprised that I was bullied.  Those that have met me in my latter years, would find this pretty unbelievable. . . I'm  not the wilting flower type. . . anymore. . . mostly.  Anyway, please read here.  Please share, please love and please reach out.

amandatoddlegacy.org
www.facebook.com/RedHoodProject
http://www.amandapalmer.net/blog/20130209/

And all the while, my facebook is up and I invited a bunch of people to help my friends Monica and David find a new home for a very lovely cat.

http://www.facebook.com/events/508247842554337/

And read some stuff that made me laugh so hard Mikal kept telling the cats I'm crazy.

http://www.damnyouautocorrect.com/50868/the-14-funniest-love-fails-for-valentines-day/

I even got so far down the hole that I googled "internet rabbit hole" - and this is the reason I give myself when I'm reading and surfing instead of doing "real writing". . .

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/01/technology/when-internet-distractions-make-us-more-efficient.html?_r=0

But two pretty significant things happened to me on the internet today (this is a totally shameful sentence to write because the internet is not personally for me even though it is).

1.  Kickstarter FINALLY gave me an iPhone app - I'm screwed and my budget is gone to hell, but more artists will be funded by me. . .

http://www.kickstarter.com/blog/introducing-the-kickstarter-app-for-iphone-and-ipo

2. The new recording and video for The Bed Song came out.  I watched it on the bus - I cried.  I made Mikal watch it.  Make your loved one watch it - it's a cautionary tale.  If you have every been in a rut with your loved one, watch this - remember to ask  -

naked. almost

There's this feeling that is almost indescribable when you are terrified, feel vulnerable and stripped of any walls previously built around the rawest parts of yourself.  Your heart is beating no where near where it is physically and seems like it will actually jump over your tongue and right out of your mouth.  And as it is migrating further and further to that actual jump, you feel this sucking of your digestive system upward.  You think that if you were to actually throw up, your stomach might lie on the floor at your feet after the first heave, right next to your heart. And as you worry you will expel your organs, there is the added benefit of the sensation that your skin is about to burst open in the same fashion a tomato has been scored, boiled and immediately chilled.

And then you must read out loud and make eye contact with the audience.  The act of speaking is dangerous because you are afraid of all above said possibilities of expulsion when the space between your lips opens during speech. And you want to run away and not read.

But you have committed to this.  You have invited people. People have come.  People that are your husband, your best friend, your close supportive theater playwright friend and his wonderfully supportive partner, your wonderful new friend from work who has given you valuable story feedback, and a sweet young man who used to work for you and is still all about team being family.

And you want this.  You want to be a writer.  You want to be validated that what you put on the page is something people will listen to, enjoy, get. So you read.

You read your story.  The one you wrote.  The one that sprung from real life tragedy. The one that your now husband knows is about your then husband even though it has become fiction to you.  The one that exposes how you felt about something that happened in your life.  The one that those people that came, know is almost autobiographical.  Almost.

Your voice wavers as you read.  You feel like you are visibly shaking as you make gestures and try to act out the piece as a reading is to do. You make eye contact with many people in the audience that you don't know so it feels safer.  Then you meet your husbands eyes.  They are wet.  You are scared that will break you.  But it doesn't because somewhere deep down you know he's just proud of you.

You finish.  They clap.

You feel humbled by the people that came to support you.  You feel relieved but still terrified that it actually happened.  You are comforted by your fellow writers because they know how you feel.  They tell you how well you did.  They mean it.  You are again humbled by their support.

You are almost a real writer.  Almost.  And it's not as scary as it was just yesterday.  And it will be less scary tomorrow.  But it is satisfying.  It is inspiring.

And then you write more.