Gone Fishin'

HEY!

I'm not actively blogging here anymore. But if you got here because you were searching for something about bikes, you might want to check out my latest project, Vermont Goldsprints. In summer of 2014, I bought a used goldsprints racing setup and have made it a mission to get more bikes in more people's faces by putting on fun races in unexpected places. Come join me!

1.29.2006

Can't Sleep

I often can't sleep. I just go, go, go all day and I get to the end and feel like I have all sorts of stuff undone, stuff that has been left undone for weeks and even months comes bubbling up in my brain, stuff I can't hope to do in a night. I spent a great deal of my last year of college up all night, barely able to stay awake during class, and asleep for a few hours in the afternoon. Waking hours spent in a funk and sleeping hours spent wide awake but unproductive. It doesn't happen as often as it used to, but tonight is one of those nights.

I have a full day ahead of me, nine kids in my ski lesson tomorrow morning, and one VERY demanding four year old in the afternoon. It is fun, but draining. I worked all day at REI today, all week for the county, etc. I put some more stuff out on Ebay, I cooked, I cleaned, I went running. I am getting stuff done, and this is nothing like the funk from college. But I procrastinate about the important things, like getting off my butt and writing poems again, practicing the guitar, playing harp. Posting endless photos has been a part of that procrastination lately. So has the Ebay habit, wonderfully purgative as it has been.

It's great to sell stuff off to people who want it and to clear out some storage space, but in a way it is a reduction of my life or my presence on earth when I'd rather be expanding that presence though writing. Missoula is a writer's town, but it isn't the writer's town it was back when apartments were 70 bucks a month. The seedy bars are still downtown but the living situation has become more gentrified. Probably I have too, with my string of legitimate jobs and responsible decisions. Does poverty and foolish decision making a good writer make? Like most things, dropping out of law school isn't exactly what I thought it would be- maybe I thought it would carry greater cachet among my skiing, writing, outdoorsy-type brethren. Maybe I thought the act alone would force me to write, rather than just creating the opportunity to write.
As my sister once observed soon after her own graduation from college, "work takes up a lot of your time." True, so true. So does grocery shopping, vacuuming, working out, getting your oil changed and all that other stuff. Sometimes, I feel like the greatest writers I have met somehow transcended the need to do all of these mundane things, but I think the truth is more that they have transcended the mundane while still accomplishing it, not that they have come to live like zoo animals who must only do what comes by instinct as they are maintained by so many clipboard-wielding caretakers. Sometimes I am certain that my greatest curse in life is that I know good and even great writing when I see it but that I don't know enough to produce it myself. I suppose, right now, as I write this commentary, this writing-on-writing I swore to myself I wouldn't get into, I ought to be figuring out the poetry. Instead, I contemplate getting a typewriter.

I've often thought about composing poetry on a small mechanical typewriter as a way to produce draft after draft of a poem without losing anything in the revision. But, it seems to me that this would only be another form of "productive procrastination," doing something unassailable while one ought to be doing something else. Am I doing that when I go to my office job instead of opening a pizzeria, or when I write blog entries instead of poetry, read about the history of blues music instead of the history of the prose poem? I'm not sure.