creative

An original doesn’t conform to expectations — they change them forever.

“It is better to be a pirate, than to be in the navy.”
~Steve Jobs

Being an original is not easy.
As Abraham says: “There is never a crowd on the leading edge.”

So for those of you starting a new, well…anything — listen up.

Unless you have a huge budget for skywriting, a Foo Fighters concert at your book signing, free Sprinkles cupcakes, and car giveaway; there may be crickets a first.

Seriously annoying nothing will happen. Day after day.

“I want the most unusual, badass store in the Valley, someplace with one-of-a-kind stuff that I would buy. Hey, listen if I don’t do it two guys from West Hollywood will and I’ll go in there and feel bad as I hand over my American Express card again, and again knowing that I had the idea first.”
~Famous Last Words

I remember days at my store where the phone never rang and no one came in. When I got home I had to clear my throat to speak like you do in the morning when you wake up because I hadn’t used my voice in over nine hours.

Your blog; book; store; talk; product or whatever, will need some back story to be understood, but don’t go overboard with that.
Keep it simple and come from the heart. Heart-Full people will eventually find you and the others, well, they can start their own tribe thank you very much.

Don’t spend too much time explaining yourself
Not to your friends, your wife or potential investors. As you attempt to get validation from the peanut gallery your brilliant creative ideas will get watered down by popular opinion.

If it was easy, made perfect sense, was a sure thing or a slam dunk — there’d be a line at your door and believe me — someone would have already thought of it.

You’re an original.
Original means new, never before attempted.
Uncharted, pirate-infested waters. No map, and oftentimes not all the answers.
Jesus others, what part of original are you not getting?

New Mantra: 

People will not be able to pigeonhole you and they will hate that about you. They will also despise you for not conforming.
Happy, creative people doing what they love are annoying to others.

Others also get uncomfortable with square pegs in round holes and if the world is made of round holes and you decide you are a square peg — Grow a thick skin — and don’t say I didn’t warn you…it’s gonna get awkward.

The urge to conform will be seductive.
It will drunk-text you late at night and fill your head with lies.
At one point (or seven) in your endeavor, it will convince you that you fucked up, it will beg you to come back to the fold for an easy ride — and it will be right. It would be easier to conform.
But you will die the very slow death of a thousand paper cuts. And we all know how much those fuckers hurt.

You can’t make everyone like you or that thing you’re doing.
Unless you’re Beyonce or Mother Theresa. It’s an impossible goal so give it up right now Goddamnit.

People will attempt to copy you. Don’t worry about it.
They aren’t you so it will be a lousy karaoke version of your concept. And since it wasn’t their passion, their up in the middle of the night writing new ideas burning desire — they’ll get bored during the crickets phase and drop it.

Imitation has absolutely NO stamina.

Go ahead and exceed what people expect from you — but not to make a point.
Just give your creativity an outlet. Let it flow. Like blood. All over the place.

I post every day. That smokes most bloggers. I do it because I love it. And I didn’t know any better when I started.

Listen, if it was expected of me I know I’d say, “fuck it”.

Many others have given me permission to cut back and some days I do, but I have already exceeded what was expected and as a result that created consistency, trust, and then relationships followed.

You’ve gotta show up. Day in and day out.
When I’m walking around and I stumble upon some cool new shop or cafe that is beckoning me to enter, I can never understand why in God’s name, in the middle of the day, they are CLOSED.
No sign, no hours posted, no nothing.
I don’t care how cutting edge and original you are — show the fuck up. Be open, be accessible, so I can share in your awesomeness.

You may fail. Like big time, skid marks on you face fail.
Think Steve Jobs being fired from his own company. You may taste public humiliation. It’s a bitter pill but you will survive, and most likely flourish.

In closing:
Try not to be an arrogant dick.
Again think Steve Jobs. He was revered — but not well liked — and I know I said people may not like you but when they fire you from your own company…

Often nonconformists have absolutely zero social skills. Mark Zuckerberg for example.
Listen, develop some, break that mold too.
Be kind to others, crack a smile, have some fun.

Be a kind, fun-loving pirate. Think Captain Jack Sparrow — or Sir Richard Branson.

Carry on my square peg pirates,
xox

*A reader remembered this and requested a re-post and I’m always happy to oblige.

If you can believe it, and I know you can – I had a dream last night about being a snowflake.
I was with all the other snowflakes, waiting in line to fall to earth.

It was very noisy, because us snowflakes are a chatty bunch.
We have to get it all out before we jump. 
All the gossip the complaining and the bad snowflake jokes,(and trust me, they are the worst), because after we leave the cloud – we are required to remain silent.

Everyone was laughing, chewing gum and eating Red Vines, as snowflakes do. Man! there was a lot of excitement in the air.

What I can remember the most, is looking around and admiring, well, really, I was envying everyone else’s designs.
There was such a display of creativity and individuality that it blew my little snowflake mind!

Every flake seemed to be showing their best crystals.
One was really pointed, with great right angles, and deep cuts.
Another had more rounded edges, with huge cut out sections.
(Someone had obviously been running with scissors).

But what I noticed above all else, was that the designs matched their personalities perfectly.

The outside totally matched what was inside.

What strikes me now, as I’m thinking about it, was that I was unable to see MY design. I could not get a glimpse of myself.
There are apparently no full length mirrors at that point in line.

As I looked for a shiny surface, to catch my reflection; I began to notice I was being looked at with the same degree of admiration by the other flakes – but of course, even though I had no idea what they saw, I liked THEIR designs better than my own.

I wanted to go back to the “snowflake drawing board” and make just a couple of revisions. I had been inspired. No one told me we could make a nip there, or a tuck there.

I had no idea we could be as bold as what I was observing around me.

As I got closer to the front of the line, I suddenly had this realization:

I WAS special,
I had done this many times,
I had fallen as rain,
I had pelted the earth as hail and sleet,
But now, HA! I got to be creative – I got to be a snowflake!

All of the sudden there was a hush, we all became more present and very serious. Everybody ditched their gum under a table, gave each other big hugs, making sure not to smear our sparkles, and with a minimum of fanfare, but filled with great pride,

…We jumped. Look for me!

Merry Christmas Loves,

Xox

*This is a guest post by my dear friend Jeanne Sullivan. We were roomies at that badass writing retreat I had the privilege to attended in August. http://bookmama.com

Take it away Jeanne!

Just last Christmas I found myself on Christmas morning without presents under the tree.
We did our usual exchange with the family between my mom and sisters, but mine was a gift certificate that arrived via email. My kids, not yet of driving or earning ages, hadn’t contributed to the pile of wrapping under the tree. And my on again, off again relationship was off again. All that to say, I thought it wouldn’t bother me; I thought I didn’t care. I thought I wasn’t such a materialistic person. But when 2 pm came, my boys went to their dad’s house; and I had a good cry about it. Then I moved on.

Flash forward to February, and I’m laughing with my son at breakfast about how I’d ordered a flash drive for him at Christmas and forgotten about it. I’d come across it cleaning out my office the day before in a box with something I’d bought for myself: a Bamboo stylus I had been so excited about! Apparently, so excited that I completely forgot about it for two months while it was sitting in an Amazon box on top of my bookcase.

And just like that, the idea hit me.
If it was that easy for me to forget about the stylus, I bet I’d also forget about a new pair of boots, a sweater, and a brand new iPad.

Here was my plan: I’ll order myself a Christmas present every month between now and then. I’ll pay the extra $5 to have it wrapped and follow my son’s suggestion to lock them in the attic like I do their presents. I’ve had a smile under my hat about it ever since, part grin and part gratitude. You see, at other times in my life, I might have thought: “there’s no way this would happen again” or “I’m sure I’ll be in a relationship next year.” Or my favorite denial strategy:

“By next year, I’ll be so mature that not having presents under the tree won’t bother me at all.”

Those ways of thinking were for back then, when I wasn’t yet forty and cared a lot more about what other people think. Back when I wanted to be better than wanting a pile of presents under the tree. And, life might be short, so just in case, I decided to plan differently for this year.

Last February, I conceded that things could change: “Maybe I’ll be in a great relationship with a man who showers me with gifts by December 25th this year. Maybe I’ll cultivate a huge circle of friends who have nothing to do but think about their single sister’s supply under the tree. Maybe my kids will work all summer mowing lawns just to put a few gifts under the tree for mom.”

While I’m as optimistic, maybe even more so, than the next person – I sure am glad I took matters into my own hands. At this very moment, I have no shame in sharing that I have the MOST presents under the tree – ten to be exact. The final present to myself, from myself will arrive on December 23rd from Stitch Fix. This was, ahem, the same strategy I used for buying my own birthday present this year, and it worked out very well.

Vulnerability, like good wine, is always better with friends.

Won’t you to share your insights, fears, stories and dreams with me in the comments below?

Which holiday is hardest for you? What could you do to make sure it’s better this year, even if it seems silly or selfish?

Jeannie Sullivan

With a pocketful of entrepreneurial dreams, Jeannie left her VP corporate gig in the middle of the recession to launch her own consultancy. Within her first year, she was leveraging a revenue mix to bring home six figures annually doing work that she loves. Her coaching practice attracts professionals who are ready to create commerce on their own terms by starting a business, innovating their business strategy, or unleashing their true talents on the world. You can learn more about her at jeanniesullivan.com.

This level of creativity leaves me giddy…and grateful…and hopeful. Take a look.

Xox

Sunrise At Burning Man – Stunning – Enjoy Your Sunday!

Xox

I’ve run across a few articles lately, by some authors whom I admire; about their reservations with the validity of blogs and social media in general.

What they expressed, was that they were glad blogging and Facebook weren’t around when they started out, because it would have diluted their process. 
They felt they would have just spewed or posted some observational quips, and not taken the time or effort to dredge the murky waters of their deepest feelings.

I disagree. AND. Who the hell do I think I am?

These guys are the real deal. These people are WRITERS. They’ve known they were writers since grade school.
They sat writing while I sang and danced. I saw them.
They’ve kept little blue journals with locks you can pick with a bobby pin (don’t ask me how I know that). These people edited the school newspaper, majored in journalism and communication (again, while I sang and danced) and have published magazine articles and books. 

Writing is what they do. A writer is who they are.

I JUST started calling myself a writer like five minutes ago, it’s easily my third incarnation in this incredible life I’m living.

Here’s where I part company with these guys.
Being new to this creative outlet, I have to say, I am SO freaking grateful for the internet.
I can’t help it, I guess because I don’t know any differently.
When I started writing two years ago, I had no idea where it would lead me.
All I knew was: I HAD to write.
I get headaches when I don’t. I get sullen and sad.
Let’s face it, I get itchy and bitchy.

I had heard about blogs, but I’d never read one.
Ever.

All I knew was, I had suddenly joined the ranks of these brainy creatives that had paid attention in creative writing class (while I sang and danced) and hence are able capture their inner most thoughts and feelings, and put them down on paper (or computer).

Being the extrovert and exhibitionist that I am, I had the audacity to start a blog (I was actually guided) and post something EVERY DAY. I didn’t know that was unusual, but hey, when have I EVER done things the usual way?

Like the authors I mentioned, I could have been silently, and anonymously honing my craft, letting all my memories and experiences marinate until they were ripe and ready for mass consumption.

Nah.

All of these months of writing coulda/ shoulda been tucked safely away, in a notebook, on a napkin, or on my iPad, with a lock and a password that made sure they were for my eyes only.
It’s a funny thing, the posts that make me squirm, the ones in which I rat myself out or discuss things that still cause me to cringe with shame, those are the ones that get the most traction. I think it’s because you guys can relate, just like I know I can, to someone telling the truth. It may be raw and not perfectly punctuated; but I think you can feel it anyhow.

If I self edited, waited, even hesitated for half a second….I’d never hit POST.

There’s my point. When I realized I wasn’t alone in my pain, embarrassment, failure and fear, I wanted to let other people know my truth, so I let my fingers do the talking.

I can appreciate the other writer’s process, I really can, but I would like them to appreciate mine.
It would feel out of body odd and uncomfortable for them to hit the POST button everyday, because when you do that, everything may not be just right, and that’s….okay.

The internet was made for someone like me. I’m not a solitary person At. All. I need feedback.

I know some days my thoughts ramble, or there’s a period where a comma belongs, or auto correct fucking goes insane, but that’s the spontaneity I think you get from blogging.
It’s real.
AND….

My blog is free. You didn’t have to purchase it, and if you don’t like it, or agree with what I write, you can hit delete. Simple as that.

But you don’t. Thank God. You continue to follow and comment and email me, and I appreciate that so much, you’ll never know.

Here’s what I love MOST about social media: it reminds you you’re not alone.
Boy, does it ever!

Here are some other things I love:

I love that it reinforces the fact that mommie’s brains aren’t liquefying while they stay at home. There are some wickedly, crazy funny ladies blogging about the adventures of raising their kids.

I love that musical theatre lovers have their blogs. And science guys. And photographers, fashionistas and entrepreneurs.

I love that in the last ten days there have been so many amazing tributes to Robin Williams and blog discussions about depression that have enlightened me, and brought me to tears.

I love the blogs and articles that are being written on race relations. It’s a hot topic for sure, but it’s being discussed – in real time.

Here’s the thing about the internet, I don’t have to wait for the books that will be written about these subjects, with their pristine editing, perfect grammar and punctuation, I’m reading some really thoughtful and comprehensive writing – today.

All that being said, here’s the elephant in the room.
I’m about to go do a writing workshop with some heavy duty, REAL writers ( I KNOW! I can’t believe it either) and work on a book derived from things I’ve written in this blog.
A book? Whaaaaaaaatttttt?
Shut up!
I know! 

I’m going to take you with me on this journey, to keep me on the straight and narrow.
So My tribe, here’s a question before I go.
What are some things I’ve written about that you’d like to see in a book? What do you want to hear more about? I’m curious.

Thanks.

( I can see it in the comments now, “write more about that devilishly handsome, fascinating Husband character, he’s so very interesting.) 

Okay honey, will do 😉

Love you guys, 
Xox

Rock, Paper, Scissors.