Scentzilla!

If I were a better blogger, I would devote all my posts to whatever was hot or edgy. If I were a better writer, I would cultivate a manner of writing that fit proper English standards, rather than my usual break-the-rules style to reflect conversational speech. But then if I did that, this blog would no longer be quite so “me.”

This is really where the motivation for blogging, or any creative activity begins: a particular sort of arrogance that people may be interested in what I personally have to offer. I do not believe this arrogance is necessarily a bad thing. The greatest artists, authors and musicians quite thankfully have it, and we get to enjoy their work consequently.

However… my great fear is that the arrogance that leads me to write how I feel and what I think will overtake me; that I might become so enamored of my brain that I cease to be able to recognize and and acknowledge other people might have big giant brains, too.

I have no sure prescription on how to avoid that fate. My own chosen method is to give credit when and where I can, to shine my own small spotlight on those whose work I admire and devour, and to offer small gestures of apology when I have failed to deliver upon those practices.

I have been inadvertently guilty in the past, through both accident and ignorance, of failing to tip my hat to others whose images I used when I first began my other blog. It’s something I am embarrassed and ashamed of. I should be. As you can tell from my posts here, I sedulously run credits on the bottom to let everyone know where I got my images (that are not from my own effort) or music samples from. I make clear when I am quoting others. I provide hyperlinks to those whose work I admire or find interesting. In short, I name names. Because whatever it is I think of my own big brain I refuse to allow myself to succumb to the folly of my own arrogance. I will not fall so deeply in love with my own talents, however meager, that I descend into the worst sort of solipsism: the self-made cult of my own “muse,” which is really just myself in disguise.

In Greek theatre, the hypocrite was a character who would don a mask and mimic other characters. I do not wish to be a hypocrite, and I do not wish to pin my identity as a human being upon wearing some mask to avoid facing up to who I really am: a person riddled with insecurities, felicities, and flaws. A person who is just like everyone else, in other words.

To that end, this is why I am so grateful to all of you who participated in the Mother’s Day mass-blog event. You ALL have my sincerest thanks. It is really you who made such a fun and slightly unusual holiday celebration a success. Thanks to all of you, whether you blogged and donated, or took the time to comment. I feel extraordinarily thankful that the world is not so cruel as one often suspects it to be, for there are people like yourselves around to remind otherwise. I did not think to try to organize it because I thought I alone would make a difference, but because I knew there were many of you who would be willing and able to do so. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Each and every one of you are awesome for contributing in whatever way you could.

This post is also written as a slightly obtuse “fuck you” to an insecure someone too emotionally wrapped up in themselves to perceive that one’s own good behavior is never predicated upon the behavior of others. That sense of kindness comes from within, and at the very least, it is a matter of honor. This person, who knows who they are, (and fyi, me and my big fucking brain knows using “they” as a gender-neutral term is incorrect) should have better to offer than extrinsic, emotionally needy and self-exclusionary excuses for their behavior. I cannot change you; I cannot change who you are. I can only remind you that though the efforts and achievements of others may seem small and petty to you, they may well mean a great deal to the person who made them. To wit, I am (as all of us are) regularly bombarded daily with products for purchase through advertisements, groceries, malls, and boutiques, but this would not excuse me to slip some small trinket into my pocket and shoplift it. Sure, I could rationalize my actions and point out that stealing is not as bad as murdering, but that does not really forgive me for what I did. None of us can avoid making mistakes, nor can most of us avoid making errors of judgement. We cannot change what we have done in the past, but we are able to make amends where we can. And we all should, whatever our striving ambitions for success might be. To quote Ted Leo in his song Sword in the Stone, “I’m not impressed with your desire to be the biggest in the bowl, you’ll still just be a little shit in a world that’s just a big shit hole.”

My arrogant little self apologizes for the soapbox, and will resume writing arrogant little posts on wonderfully smelly and pretty things again shortly!

So that I don’t end this on a negative note, I would like to acknowledge all of you who commented yesterday. I have decided that I will donate my due $56 to FINCA International, and additionally make a matching donation to the OFA. My thanks to everyone, again!