Friday, May 17
games helens play
Today I'm playing the game where I pretend I have the day off from work but then I stop in at the studio, just to make a few things. It works. I don't get elaborate. I don't, for instance, choose a fake name (Like "Lucinda," the latest in a long string of "people" who come in, strictly on their own schedules, to clean my bathroom). Nor do I don a costume, or pretend I'm French — I just sort of keep my energy light and pretend I happened to drive by and happened to have packed a lunch but I'm really just visiting. "Oh look, is that a sewing machine? Maybe I'll try to work up a little something on it." Like that.
Well look, I wrote the word hubris on a piece of paper last week. I think I was wondering if I am hubris deficient. Sometimes I feel that way. Not about creative leaps, but about business decisions, which were what was supposed to be happening on that paper. Regardless, it's a good sounding word. It sounds like something you'd find on the forest floor after you kicked aside some dead leaves and twigs with your boot. It would be there, mixed in with the wet black soil — a hard gnarled relic now exposed for you to harvest. See? I'd rather make up imaginary meanings for it than procure any real hubris — if it is even something that can be gotten at all.