Whenever I perform, live or online, I always wonder how people perceive me.
“Who does she think she is?”
“Why is she preaching?”
“Does she think she’s better than us?”
It’s not that I’m being self conscious… Okay, shit maybe I am. But it’s because I know my imperfections and mistakes all too well. It’s true. Through my work, I do try to bring out the positive: hopes, dreams, and all that fluffy stuff. However, I wouldn’t be able to do that without first experiencing the negative: insecurity, heartbreak, and all that smelly garbage.
I once read in a thought catalog article that folks who give the best advice are often the ones who are a mess themselves. *Ding ding ding!* It’s not that my life is perfect (Obviously! then it wouldn’t be life.), but I am fully aware of the tools that would allow me to either embrace my imperfections or make myself better. And I discover these “tools” through special people in my life: my mom, sister, brother, dad; best friends; other artists; my favorite poets. They remind me that despite my flaws, my shortcomings, I can still be the person I want to be. That the snags or loose stitches in the fabric of my life (SHAMELESS COTTON PLUG! Sike.) are there for a reason.
So I remember, and try to practice everything I’ve learned. And what better way to remember a lesson than to write it down, and recite it… as a poem. *wink* Sometimes it’s easier to say than do, but what matters is that I try right? That I made the attempt, and will probably make ten more.
This was the basis for my latest piece, “Recycled Resolution.” Recycled? Yes, because some resolutions take longer than one year to complete. Learning how to own up to my mistakes, to take responsibility for them is something I believe I should work harder to do every year. For myself and for the people I love. As I say in the piece, “We are always worthy of forgiveness,” but before this happens I first have to admit, “I was wrong.” I have to let people know that I am a work in progress, with every piece I write, with every poem I perform. (Or maybe I should just wear an “Under Construction” shirt everywhere I go?)