fac ut gaudeam.

For those that don't know, that means "make my day."

And actually, I chose the title for its sheer irony. The phrase is typically used as a challenge - go on, try and hurt me, I dare you. I couldn't be feeling any less like challenging the world. The world kind of whupped up on me today. For those unfamiliar with southern lingo, that means "the world kind of violently beat me with a belt, claiming it was for my own good." (ala certain kinds of southern parents)

I'm afraid of complexity. I think that's one of the reasons I couldn't write a good poem for a long time, and why I'm failing at it now. It's one of the major artistic problems I have. I have a tendency, an almost maniacal urge, to simplify, to strip down to the bare essence, to write leanly. To paint leanly. The problem is, the line between simple and boring is blurry. The line between 'the essence' and 'nothing interesting' is likewise obscure. The urge to write or paint leanly often translates into not writing or painting at all. The fear of complexity also stems, I think, from an urge to control. Simple things are more easily controlled. Less decision making goes into non-complex things, so there's less chance of failure.

I'm so delighted when I make the first mark on a page. I have writers block a lot more than I actually write, and I'm thinking about a lot more artwork than I actually make. I think this is one of my problems too. I'm so delighted to make that first mark that I want to leave it undisturbed - I hate to revise, to change, to paint over, because you can never get that first mark back. Odds are that I'll screw it up if I keep going after making that first mark.

Frankly, half-baked ideas terrify me. If it's something odd, like nothing I've never read or seen before, I'm really reluctant to show anyone, or even complete the project. Almost-getting-it-right can get comfortable. At least if I don't improve, I always know what's wrong.

Well, I've had it with this. I'm going to do something complex, and I'm going to keep going after that first mark, and I'm going to try half-baked ideas. I don't care what the annoying inner bits of me (or anyone else's annoying outer bits) have to say about it.

So the title turned out to be doubly ironic. I thought I couldn't feel less like challenging the world... and then I went and did anyway. Death to tyrrany. And also a shout-out to Jenn, who's my hero, and told the world exactly where it could go.