As I get busier, I worry more that I’ll accidentally send an FYeah pendant to someone who ordered a sweet little lotus flower charm from gogoshebogo. In a scene befitting George Constanza, Worlds Would Collide in the most unpleasant way.
I never stress about the reverse – that someone who ordered a fuck you necklace will be offended by accidentally receiving an om symbol. But this stress about not being accepted, about somehow offending people, has really got me stymied. I’ve been busy working on both of my lines separately, but I’ve totally ignored this site, Three Natures, which was intended to integrate my work. When I stop to think about it, I realize I’m avoiding it because I don’t know how to make “it” makes sense.
And since my work is me, it stands to reason that I don’t know how to make me make sense. George had himself defined as Relationship George and Independent George. Not that he is a role model in any way, but at least his lines were clearly delineated.
Yoga Cindy and Fuck Yeah Cindy are not mutually exclusive, but I try to pretend like they are in order to fit in with different crowds. And therein lies the problem. The most common advice for artists and entrepreneurs is to be yourself – and myself is totally contradictory. I’m most me wearing my om symbol pendant – and a bracelet full of fuck charms. So I’m constantly switching sides to show myself in the best light for one side or the other. Just being still – being me – is too hard.
I guess I am an authentic Contradict. But there are actually lots of us Contradicts out there, we’re just a little harder to spot. (I know Contradict is not a noun. But I’m going to pretend it is, and that it is different than being a Contradick. Contradicts are interesting, multi-dimensional, and accept that life is full of inherent contradictions. Contradicks are just jerks, often busy insisting that their version of reality is the only possible one.) As I tried to explain on my FYeah blog the other day, the point isn’t to plaster bumper sticker obscenities all over the place.
Evidence that Contradicts exist: this week, someone ordered from both gogoshebogo and FYeah. My Worlds Collided – on purpose!
And: my friend Bridget recently commissioned me to make the sweetest necklaces for her and her daughter. The mother/daughter set is stamped with the words they tell each other anytime they are separate for a night.
In return, she used her amazing welding skills to make me a sculpture. A fucking awesome sculpture by Pescado Lago Studios.
It would do me good to remember that one of the first requests I got, once word of my fuck word affinity started to get out, was for a bracelet that said simply “i am enough” … with a tiny “fuck it” hidden on the back.
Tuesday night, my husband and I drove out away from the city lights to see the meteor shower. The full-ish moon made for less than ideal viewing conditions, but we saw a few impressive fireballs. The next day I learned some scientists theorize that the crashing of a comet or meteor into a planet might actually create the amino acids necessary to form life.
It’s time to crash and burn.