Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Think.


Thursday, October 16, 2008

Oh no, not again...

The job I am currently holding is a contract position in local government. Most of you know I've been consulting/freelancing/unemployed (pick your favorite word) for the last couple years, so the beauty of schedule flexibility aside, I was pretty stoked to have found a "job".

When I was hired the contracting company told me I was going to get hired on by the client as an employee but the contract only said "through the end of the year" in order to move quickly through the appropriate channels. Having worked in government contracting before, I know very well how this game is played and did not question.

Today.. I found out I really will be without a job again in January.

I'm worried because it is a bad time economically to be without a job, and because that is a lousy time of year to be without a job, but also because its always a difficult undertaking, since the world of marketing is so competitive and its just a lot of work to find a job. Never mind one that I love, where I feel valued and engaged, etc.

I'm irritated because the contracting company was very certain I would be hired and I just don't know if they really believed that or if they intentionally misled me so that I would take the job.

I'm scared because I'm so terribly, terribly, deeply in debt and I have children that want to eat every day and constantly need new clothes and money for field trips and cheerleading and karate lessons and soccer uniforms and the big one will be off to college next fall, which is less than a year away and...

So I guess I am now appealing to you, fan... keep your eyes peeled for a position for anybody looking for someone with absolutely stellar writing skills, deep knowledge of social media, extensive experience in planning small to midsize events and a fantastic attitude...

Friday, October 03, 2008

THIS.

Moosehunter
by Aden Nak on his blog "ph33r and loathing"

"Sarah Palin is a stupid, self important, ignorant bitch who I wouldn’t put in charge of wiping her own ass. And it’s not just that she’s dumb - which she is - it’s that she’s willfully ignorant of the facts and yet absolutely dead-bang certain that she’s right about her opinions."

and

"I don’t know why it’s a taboo to say someone is too dumb to be President. Hell, most people don’t have the kind of mental sharpness necessary. That’s why it’s so important to pick the right person out of an entire country of potential leaders. But Sarah Palin?"

Oh it gets so much better...

/golfclap

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

And Now for the Definition

Couple people asked me what narcissism was after I left a blurb on my Myspace saying "Lisa Lisa thinks you're a narcissist". So here you go. Don't say I never gave you anything.

(Though- on second thought... if I could I would buy you all dictionaries instead. Doesn't anyone READ anymore these days??? How do you expect to get anywhere in life if you haven't read Oscar Wilde??)

(On third thought.. maybe the fact you all haven't read Oscar Wilde is a major contributor of the disturbing prevalence of narcissism in the world...)

Someone who suffers from Narcissistic Personality disorder (NPD) has at least 5 of the following characteristics:

  1. A grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements)
  2. Preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love
  3. Believes that he or she is "special" and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions)
  4. Requires excessive admiration
  5. Has a sense of entitlement, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations
  6. Interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends
  7. Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others
  8. Often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her
  9. Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes

Here are some more signs of Narcissistic Personality Disorder to look out for:

  • Jealousy and possessiveness
  • Excessive need to feel special, adored, loved, appreciated, or admired
  • Rage attacks when you do not sufficiently meet his/her needs
  • Controlling behaviors (trying to control how you spend your time, who you talk to, how you dress, etc.)
  • Inflated self-esteem, or grandiosity (bragging, "fishing" for compliments)
  • Dramatic, insecure behaviors
  • Expecting you to take responsibility for making him/her feel better about him/herself
  • Blaming you for behaviors or feelings (i.e., "YOU made me do this," or "YOU made me feel this way.")
  • Not taking responsibility for angry behavior and justifying angry outbursts
  • An attitude that demonstrates "the world revolves around me" and "you need to cater to my ideas, opinions, thoughts, and feelings."
  • An unwillingness to reflect on his/her own behaviors


Friday, August 29, 2008

May the Best Lizard Win

I WILL be voting for Barack Obama. That's not up for debate. I don't especially dislike McCain to be honest, but he does not represent me, my values, my beliefs, my priorities. And I wish he'd quit it with the "Obama lacks experience in this, this and this" rhetoric, because most of that is WHY I like Obama.

That being said...

I've mentioned this before in different forums- and it's not, by any stretch of the imagination, a new idea- you don't vote for a candidate as much as you do what you can to keep the other guy out of the job.

It's times like this I miss Douglas Adams.

"I come in peace," it said, adding after a long moment of further grinding, "take me to your Lizard."

Ford Prefect, of course, had an explanation for this.

"It comes from a very ancient democracy, you see..."

"You mean, it comes from a world of lizards?"

"No, nothing so simple. Nothing anything like to straightforward. On its world, the people are people. The leaders are lizards. The people hate the lizards and the lizards rule the people."

"Odd," said Arthur, "I thought you said it was a democracy."

"I did," said Ford. "It is."

"So," said Arthur, hoping he wasn't sounding ridiculously obtuse, "why don't the people get rid of the lizards?"

"It honestly doesn't occur to them," said Ford. "They've all got the vote, so they all pretty much assume that the government they've voted in more or less approximates to the government they want."

"You mean they actually vote for the lizards?"

"Oh yes," said Ford with a shrug, "of course."

"But," said Arthur, going for the big one again, "why?"

"Because if they didn't vote for a lizard, the wrong lizard might get in," said Ford. "Some people say that the lizards are the best thing that ever happened to them. They're completely wrong of course, completely and utterly wrong, but someone's got to say it."

The esteemed Mr. Adams also makes note that any individual actually interested in the job of President is inherently unsuited for the job by virtue of his desire for it.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Girly Man

I have to admit that growing up with only brothers and no sisters made me an odd amalgamation of feminine and masculine. For instance, I still loved Barbie, but since my brothers obviously would never play dolls with me I learned to appreciate and love things like comic books, Legos, Dungeons & Dragons and computers much more than my girlfriends (and worked hard to hide my affection for such “non-cool” things during my adolescence).

I spent hours entering code into a DOS IBM computer in order to be able to play a game for twenty minutes.

I spent hours learning how to play D&D before actually falling asleep at the table (in my defense, I was nine and it was midnight).

I watched (and LOVED) endless hours of Star Trek, Star Wars and Battlestar Galactica. As well as read tons of the accompanying “extended universe” books of all three.

I spent days during the summer reading a two-foot tall pile of comic books. And like other kids, my mother ripped apart more than a few trying to get me off the couch to do something.

But on the other hand, having two brothers pretty much ensured I never had to do a lot of masculine chores. I never mowed a lawn until I was 23. I barely know how to use a screwdriver and I’m not sure I know the difference between a wrench and a pair of pliers. Tape measures make me feel like I'm about to lose a finger. I’ve never painted a room (though as a kid I sure wanted to), and I’ve never ever ever operated power tools (though I can wield a mean sledge hammer).

But this week I am doing some major redecorating at home, and I am SO PROUD!! I’m moving the kids’ bedrooms around and it has been a major project, mostly owing the amount of CRAP they have collected over the years. Which sucks, but on the other hand its good that this is getting done because obviously a good thorough cleaning was necessary.

Today I moved Poo’s entire room, furniture and all, into the empty bedroom. I couldn’t move her bed through the doorway so I had to take it apart. I think the thing I used is a socket wrench. That sounds right, though I have no way of knowing if that’s what it is really called. But we’ll just go along with that for now.

My point is that I put the correct attachment on it, figured out how to use it (never mind got lucky that it was a tool that would actually work on what I needed it for) and not only loosened the bolts but also put them back where I found them after the move. I’m MANLY!

MACHO!

MASCULINE!

Today I’m oddly attracted to myself.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

The Important Things That Get Settled Via IM

Mark: I've decided that the Smurfs were communist
Lisa: ...
Lisa: the Smurfs are communist??
Mark: yes
Lisa: well I guess I have to agree that they do live in a commune
Mark: they all worked together for a common goal
Mark: Papa Smurf was the leader and his hat was RED
Mark: and he had dictator-like facial hair
Lisa: oh, well if he had facial hair...
Mark: exactly
Mark: perhaps Gargamel represented capitalism...
Lisa: oh I knew that was coming
Lisa: of course he did. he wanted to catch the Smurfs to use them in a potion to make gold
Mark: see???

Sunday, June 08, 2008

I Don't Shop at Wal-Mart. But if I Did I Would...

1. Take shopping carts for the express purpose of filling them and stranding them at strategic locations.
2. Ride those little electronic cars at the front of the store.
3. Set all the alarm clocks to go off at ten minute intervals throughout the day.
4. Start a high-spirited game of dodgeball; see how many people I can get to join in.
5. Contaminate the entire auto department by sampling all the spray air fresheners.
6. Challenge other customers to duels with tubes of gift wrap.
7. Leave cryptic messages on the typewriters.
8. Re-dress the mannequins as I see fit.
9. Walk really slow when people are behind me, especially in narrow aisles.
10. Walk up to an employee and tell him in an official tone, “I think we’ve got a Code 3 in Housewares,” just to see what happens.
11. Tune all the radios to a polka station; then turn them all off and turn the volumes to “10”.
12. Play with the automatic doors.
13. Walk up to complete strangers and say, “Hi! I haven’t seen you in so long!...” etc. See if they play along to avoid embarrassment.
14. While walking through the clothing department, ask myself loud enough for all to hear, “Who buys this crap, anyway?”
15. Repeat Number 14 in the jewelry department.
16. Ride a display bicycle through the store; claiming I'm taking it for a “test drive.”
17. Follow people through the aisles, always staying about five feet away until they leave the department.
18. Play soccer with a group of friends, using the entire store as the playing field.
19. As the cashier runs your purchases over the scanner, look mesmerized and say, “Wow. Magic!”
20. Put M&M’s on layaway.
21. Move “Caution: Wet Floor” signs to carpeted areas.
22. Set up a tent in the camping department; tell others I'll only invite them in if they bring pillows from Bed and Bath.
23. Test the fishing rods and see what I can “catch” from the other aisles.
24. Ask other customers if they have any Grey Poupon.
25. Drape a blanket around my shoulders and run around saying, “...I’m Batman. Come, Robin—to the Batcave!”
26. TP as much of the store as possible.
27. Randomly throw things over into neighboring aisles.
28. Play with the calculators so that they all spell “hello” (or "boobs") upside down.
29. Begin to cry when someone asks if I need help and ask, “Why won’t you people just leave me alone?”
30. Run between two or three people walking ahead of me yelling, “Red Rover!”
31. Make up nonsense products and ask newly hired employees if there are any in stock, i.e., “Do you have any Shnerples here?”
32. Take up an entire aisle in Toys by setting up a full scale battlefield with G.I. Joes vs. the X-Men.
33. Take bets on the battle described above.
34. Nonchalantly “test” the brushes and combs in Cosmetics.
35. Suddenly ask the clerk showing me a gun in the hunting department if he knows where the anti-depressants are, acting as spastic as possible.
36. Hold indoor shopping cart races.
37. Dart around suspiciously while humming the theme from Mission: Impossible.
38. Attempt to fit into very large gym bags.
39. Attempt to fit others into very large gym bags.
40. Say things like, “Would you be so kind as to direct me to your Twinkies?”
41. Set up a “Valet Parking” sign in front of the store.
42. Two words: “Marco Polo.”
43. Leave Cheerios in Lawn and Garden, pillows in the pet food aisle, etc.
44. “Re-alphabetize” the CDs in Electronics.
45. In the auto department, practice my “Madonna” look with various funnels.
46. Quickly make off with someone's cart without saying a word when they step away to look at something.
47. Relax in the patio furniture.
48. Assume the fetal position and scream, “No, no! It’s those voices again!” when an announcement comes over the loudspeaker.
49. Pay off layaways fifty cents at a time.
50. Drag a lounge chair on display over to the magazines and relax. If the store has a food court, I will buy a soft drink and explain that I don’t get out much and can they put a little umbrella in my drink?

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Instructions for Life in the New Millennium from the Dalai Lama

1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.

2. When you lose, don't lose the lesson.

3. Follow the three Rs: Respect for self, respect for others and responsibility for all your actions.

4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

5. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.

6. Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.

7. When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.

8. Spend some time alone every day.

9. Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.

10. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

11. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll be able to enjoy it a second time.

12. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.

13. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don't bring up the past.

14. Share your knowledge. It's a way to achieve immortality.

15. Be gentle with the earth.

16. Once a year, go some place you've never been before.

17. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.

18. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

19. Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

The Test

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Health Class

Dylan stood up in the middle of his bath and announced that Poo and Mommy did not get a penis and he did.

Poo replied, "UGH! He's talking about his penis again!!!!"

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

UFO

Dude: What is that white thing in the sky?

Mom: That's the moon.

Dude: No, it's not. I think it's the Earth.

Mom: You're sitting on the Earth.

Dude: No I'm not! I'm sitting on this chair!!

Friday, March 14, 2008

Notes from the Family Doctor

It was a busy morning about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.

I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would be able to see him.

I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.

On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound. While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry.

He said no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health; he told me that she had been there for quite a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's disease.

As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now.

I was surprised, and asked him, 'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are'?

He smiled as he patted my hand and said, 'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is'.

I had to hold back tears as he left; I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, 'That is the kind of love I want in my life'.

True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Driving With The Brakes On

When you're driving with the brakes on
When you're swimming with your boots on
Its hard to say you love someone
And its hard to say you don't
-"Driving With The Brakes On" by Del Amitri



Yesterday was Valentine's Day. Nuff said.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Bleh.

This is one of those days that I feel I am an automaton just going through the motions, accomplishing tasks because they need to be done, not because I have any particular desire to do them or see the results. Had a little too much wine with the girls last night and I have a headache that is making me want to do nothing except take a nap.

I wonder what happened to that passion I used to have for life? For making change and speaking out against injustice and affecting the world in a positive way?

I'm being melodramatic, I still have a lot of passion for life... most of the time. Its just that I find myself more often than not in circumstances that seem to be explicitly designed to suck the life out of me. There's ALWAYS someplace I'd rather be, other things I'd rather be doing, and most importantly, people I'd rather be with.

Maybe I'd better go ahead and take that nap.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Few and Far Between

There are moments in life that are so wonderful, so exquisite, so beautiful that all we can do is savor them as they come, and not worry about when they will be over, or how long it will be before we see something so good again. The trick is to make a memory; take a deep breath, remember the smells, sounds and flavors of the moment and file it away.

Memory is our defense against the long stretches of time between the loveliness.


Today I am happy.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

How to Fail Your Way to Success

By Martha Beck

I spent at least half my childhood drawing. By the time I got to college and signed up for my first drawing class, I was pretty comfortable with a pencil. My teacher was a brilliant draftsman named Will Reimann.

To impress him, I fired up all my best tricks: lots of varied lines, fade-outs, soft gradients. One day while I was drawing, something landed on my sketch pad. It was a mechanical drafting pen.

"Use that from now on," said Mr. Reimann. And he smiled the smile of a man who has hatched an evil plot.

Oh, how I hated that damn pen! It drew a stark black line of unvarying thickness, making all my faboo pencil techniques impossible. You'd think my teacher would've been helpful, or at least forgiving. But no. He'd glance at my awkward ink drawings, groan "Oh, God," and walk away holding his head in his hands, like a migraine sufferer. My art grade plummeted. I writhed with frustration.

A few weeks later, as I sat in another class taking notes with the Loathsome Pen of Doom, something happened. Without my intention, my hand started dancing with that horrible pen. Together, they began making odd marks: hatches, overlapping circles, patches of stippling.

The next drawing I completed won a juried art show. "How did you figure out a drafting pen could do this?" one of the judges asked me.

"I failed," I told them. "Over and over again."

Since then I've had many occasions to celebrate failure, in myself and in others. From my life-coaching seat, I've noticed that the primary difference between successful people and unsuccessful people is that the successful people fail more.

If you see failure as a monster stalking you, or one that has already ruined your life, take another look. That monster can become a benevolent teacher, opening your mind to successes you cannot now imagine.

The optional agony of defeat

My dog-groomer friend Laura breeds and shows prizewinning poodles. One afternoon she arrived at the off-leash dog park looking thoroughly dejected.

"What's wrong?" I asked her as our pets gamboled about.

"Ewok," said Laura, nodding mournfully toward her well-coiffed dog. "He didn't even place at the show yesterday. Didn't ... even ... place! And he just hates to lose!" Her voice was so bitter I winced. "He should have been best in show," she said. "Look at him -- he's perfect!"

I looked at Ewok. He looked fine -- but perfect? Who knew? To me, saying a poodle with long legs is better than one with short legs seems absurd. A poodle's a poodle, for heaven's sake.

I think Ewok would've agreed. He certainly didn't seem to be the one who hated losing. He'd discovered a broken Frisbee, and appeared to be experiencing the sort of rapture Saint Teresa felt when visited by God.

Laura's desolation stemmed not from what actually happened at the dog show but from her ideas about success and failure. Lacking such concepts, Ewok was simply enjoying life. Going to dog shows and winning, going to dog shows and losing, going to the park and scavenging -- from Ewok's perspective it was all good.

Meanwhile, Laura's thoughts about losing had tainted all these experiences. Thankfully, she'd managed to avoid a pitfall even worse than failure: success.

"Success is as dangerous as failure," said Lao-tzu, and any life coach knows this is true. I can't count the number of times people have told me, "I hate the job I'm doing, but I'm good at it. To do what I want, I'd have to start at zero and I might fail."

Dwelling on failure can make us miserable, but dwelling on success can turn us into galley slaves, bound to our wretched benches solely by the thought, I hate this, but at least I'm good at it.

This is especially ironic because researchers report that satisfaction thrives on challenge. Think about it: A computer game you can always win is boring; one you can win sometimes, and with considerable effort, is fun.

With time-killing games, where the stakes are very low, pretty much everyone's willing to risk failure. But when it comes to things we think really matter, like creating a career or raising children, we hunker down, tighten up, and absolutely refuse to fail. Anyway, that's the theory. The reality is, we are going to fail. Then we make things worse by refusing to accept this.

Tammy came to me distraught because her 17-year-old son, Jason -- her perfect son, whom she'd raised with perfect love, perfectly following every known rule of perfect motherhood -- had been arrested for public intoxication.

"I've failed," Tammy sobbed. "I've failed Jason; I've failed myself!"

"Yup," I said. "You got that right."

Tammy stared at me as though I'd slapped her. Clearly, that was not my line. I shrugged. "You've failed a million times, and you've succeeded a million times. Welcome to parenthood. Do you know any mothers who never fail their kids?"

"Sure," Tammy said, nodding. "A lot of my friends at the country club are perfect mothers." She wept even harder. "And they say horrible things about the bad mothers. Now they'll judge me, because Jason ... " She dissolved in sobs.

"Tell me," I said, "do you actually like any of those women?"

The sobbing stopped abruptly. There was a long moment of silence, and then Tammy seemed to transform before my eyes. She sat up straighter.

"You know, I don't," she said. "I don't really like any of them."

"I believe you," I said. "I don't know your friends, but if I had to live with someone like the person you were a minute ago, I'd start drinking, too."

"I do live with her," said Tammy wryly. "And I'd love a drink."

"Hear, hear," I said. "So go home and apologize to Jason for imitating mothers you don't even like. Try being real with him -- teenagers love that. Every moment you're real with him, you're succeeding as a mother. Every moment you lose yourself by trying to be perfect, you're failing. And the moment you accept that you're failing, you're succeeding again."

Tammy squinted at me. "You're telling me to accept failure as a mother?"

"Whenever you fail," I said. "Got any other options?"

"Well, no ... but accept failure? As a mother? I can't."

"Sure you can," I said. "Try this: Think about the fact that you failed to control Jason. Notice how you're all scrunched up, thinking, Oh, no!?"

Tammy nodded.

"Okay, now unscrunch, and instead of saying, 'Oh, no!' say, 'Oh, well ...'"

I beamed at Tammy. She waited for me to go on. I didn't.

Tammy laughed. "I can't believe this," she said. "I came here thinking you could tell me how to fix my son, and the best advice you've got is, 'Oh, well'?"

"Damn. You're right," I said. "I've totally failed you." I took a deep breath, and relaxed. "Oh, well ..."

Tammy looked at me for another long minute. Then she said, "Just your saying that makes me trust you."

This is the magic of accepting that you've done your very best but failed. Own your failure openly, publicly, with genuine regret but absolutely no shame, and you'll reap a harvest of forgiveness, trust, respect, and connection -- the things you thought you'd get by succeeding. Ironic, isn't it?

Blasting through attachments

I owe my ability to accept maternal failure to my son Adam. Though I bred young, never smoked or drank, ate right, and all that, Adam showed up with an extra chromosome, mentally retarded. Oops. From the word go, I'd failed to make him a successful student, athlete, rocket scientist. In my mind, nothing could compensate for such massive failures.

This was when I discovered that the bigger the perceived problem, the better it delivers failure's great gift: freedom from attachment to ideas about success. A lucky person escapes her enemies. But a really lucky person (as the poet Rumi puts it) "slips into a house to escape enemies, and opens the door to the other world."

This can happen in tiny ways and huge ones. The day my pencil-proficient mind accepted failure and allowed my hand to start dancing with that mechanical pen, a door opened on a new way of drawing.

Accepting that I'd failed to create a "normal" life for my child blasted away much bigger assumptions, bone-deep beliefs like "Successful mothers have smart children" and "My kids should never fail."

This hurt like a sonovabitch, but when the rubble cleared, I found myself in a world where all judgments of success and failure are arbitrary and insignificant, as ridiculous (no offense) as the American Kennel Club's definition of the "perfect" poodle. Without judgments, it's obvious that joy is available in every moment --and never in anything else.

I can see that Tammy gets this. Jason's rebellion becomes a gift as failure does for Tammy what I've seen it do for so many others: soften, mellow, calm, enrich, embolden. The poet Antonio Machado expressed it this way:

Last night as I was sleeping

I dreamt -- marvelous error! --

that I had a beehive

here inside my heart.

And the golden bees

were making white combs

and sweet honey

from my old failures.

I can't say I look forward to the failures that await me. But they'll be along in no time, so I feel lucky to know what to do when each one arrives. It will work for you, too. Unscrunch. Exhale. Let go of "Oh, no!" and embrace "Oh, well ... ." Then, whatever door opens, walk through it.

Failing upward

By my sophomore year in college, mechanical pens were my favorite drawing instruments. Trial and error (and error, and error) had made me so comfortable with them that they felt like extensions of my hands. Being a masochist and a fool, I signed up for another class from Mr. Reimann. One morning while I was drawing, something landed on my sketch pad. It was a watercolor brush.

"Use that from now on," said my teacher. "You'll hate it. You put a mark down on the paper, and half an hour later, it decides what it's going to look like."

I picked up the brush. "You're not going to help me with this, are you?"

"Well, let's put it this way," said Mr. Reimann. "The sooner you make your first 5,000 mistakes, the sooner you'll get on to the next 5,000." And he walked away smiling his evil-plot smile, having arranged yet another dance with failure, inspirer of all uninspired artists, master teacher of all master teachers.

By Martha Beck from "O, The Oprah Magazine," December 2007.