Revisioning Visions

So it has been a very long while. But, the past is past and while I'm as good at weeping over spilled cow lactations as the next girl, let's move on, shall we? Ok. 

I've been working on a vision-board overhaul. Now, before you accuse me of going Oprah on you, let me clarify. 

One: I like Oprah. I like her peppy spunk, the way she draws out her words when she's excited and more than that, I like her magazine. It's positive, self-affirming and empowering and I can read it for free while I'm waiting to purchase foodstuffs. 

Two: I had a vision board way before it was cool. Granted, it was a random pile of ideas and wants scribbled onto a piece of cardboard torn from one of my many moving boxes, at a time when I was moving more times in a year than I was menstruating, but again-- not the point.

The other day I noticed my vision board, while breathtakingly beautiful and inspiring, was rather... scattered. I am in the process of decluttering my life, my head, my everything. And in this spirit, I believe that if your vision board isn't clear, isn't straight-forward and honest with what you really want, what you really really want, then you'll only get muddy results. It's like saying "I need a new pair of pants," which could either get you a really cracking set of trousers spun of oyster-gray silk, or some sort of horrid sweaties with a shady stain in the crotch. 

Clarify. Be clear. Know what you're asking for. That was the goal.

So here is the result of my makeover: 


I paired down a lot of the photos, keeping only the ones that really inspired, entertained or symbolized things I wanted to keep in mind/bring into my life.

Here's the left-side of the board. I broke this one down into Travel, Money, Soul/Spirit, Learning and Physical Body. Using an old typewriter and post-its, I threw up goals/ideas/wants around these areas.

And here's the right-hand side of the board. Same deal, only with Art, Career, Heart and Culture. 

(For those snoopy ones, here's a closer look. I love snooping.)

 I love this photo of the two girls boxing in couture. It's rather a nice representation of the dichotomy I have. I love boxing and hard-core sweaty intense workouts. But I also like petticoats. 

 Soul and Spirit. I love the redhead in the draped fabric. She is unabashedly joyous about her difference. I love that she's celebrating her weirdness. The old lady in the bottom is a reminder to me of mortality-- not of death, but of the gift that life can be, if you work at it, and how at the end of my time here, I'd like to be as I imagine her to be-- content and ready for the 'next great perhaps'.

A reminder that geeks are sexy. Glasses are sexy. Redheads with glasses who like birds are sexy. And knowledge is sexy. The most sexy thing of all. I like to remind myself if I want to meet and have interesting people in my life, I should be interesting as well.

I love Isabella Rossellini. I love her work on the Green Porno series and the Seduce Me series. I heart her humour, courage and abundant sexiness for doing what she loves with abandon. I'm also rather married to this pic out of the New Yorker Magazine; it just exemplified "creation" and joy to me. 

I have had this picture of a chimp with a shoe forever. It reads "Stop looking for bananas from people who have no bananas. Some people just cannot offer you what you need." A good reminder to both accept people as they are, and to create / nourish what you need yourself.  

 

 Coco and Josephine. Two women who took their passion and make it a career. Plus, a horse in a dapper hat, which is just so super professional and stylish. I would like to be that pulled together.

 

If you're a close friend, you know I love love LOVE Sherlock Holmes. Deal with it. 
 

This snail in a sweater is an important symbol of transformation for me. I have a small phobia of slugs. But this little pip in his smart little green cardy is totally sweet. Reminds me that the things that fear or set me off might not be so bad... when dressed nicely. 
 

 And lastly, the bird in football helmet. The perfect symbol for who I am. I want to be free, independent and living an adventurous life... yet protected and feel like I can handle anything that's thrown at me. So this robin and his steely determination gives me strength and something to visualize. 

Perfectionism is Killing Me.

Seriously. I have this little problem with perfectionism. And by little problem, I mean that it's probably the cause of a lot of my behavior and mental road-blocks and artistic resistance. 

I need to stop trying to be perfect and just BE. 

Re-learning the violin is bringing up all this shit. It's bad enough that the actual act of playing an instrument is more than hard. 

I'm standing there, trying to keep my bow-hand relaxed, my grip right, my bow strokes long enough, short enough and that's just one hand. 

Then there's the whole fingering-- right tune, right note, right time, right string, right holding technique of the instrument, and also trying not to look fat while you're standing evenly on both legs-- don't tell me that this isn't a concern ladies, you know. 

(A little cocked hip can really forgive a few pounds. Plus, I ate an entire jar of pickles before the lesson. We all have our trigger foods.)

And then don't forget the reading the music part, which for someone who is crap at math, is akin to taking on an Asian Eminem in a Chinese rapping battle after one lesson at the local Y. 

I feel as though I'm learning to drive a car while making sushi while trying to explain the concept of Epistemology to a toddler using sock puppets and venn diagrams. 

And I also have this voice in my head constantly saying "You're not doing it good enough, you're not good enough," etc. 

After driving home, mad with myself, frustrated and upset, and thinking of all the stupid unhelpful things I could do, I decided the only solution is to say "fuck off," to those nasty tiny little cramped thoughts that lead me into a place that's nasty, tiny and cramped. 

I will go towards what scares me, what I'm bad at (but interested in) and I will do my best not to care if I look chunky while I'm doing it. 

Because unlike my waistline, my violining will only get better with age. 

A whole jar? Blergh.