Remedios Varo, Astro Errante (Wandering Star), 1961

I might not know what you do for love in the world — your form, your thing, your work

your expression

   but I feel protective of you today. Every one of you.

I feel protective of your flame, specifically.

  -Flame, what do you mean flame

-I mean the thing that can go out and you'd still be walking around but you would be drooping and you would wonder why you're here and what you're for and if you're good for something.

I mean the thing that when you see it lit in other people — and get warm from it, briefly, and illuminated by it — it either makes you happy because you're walking around with your own hot one that feels fine,

  or it makes you feel nervous and wistful for your own wobbly one in the wind,

or it makes you feel dim in comparison, gloomy, maybe despairing, maybe where you look at a window and wonder if you might as well go out it

Amelia Errázuriz, Conections

I remember seeing a friend of mine perform once. This was in the 1990s. She was a solo performer, a virtuoso, and this was the first time I'd seen her work.

She was good. I was riveted and moved to tears during her performance and also horrified. My flame was scarcely going at all, that I could tell, and I went home and cried because I felt like Salieri after witnessing Mozart in action

This was when I was an actor and aspired to be great at it, but also just visible, viable, *something*

(back in my apartment that night I stood at my bookshelf and played "book oracle" flailing around for some comforting words — you pull a random book down and open it randomly and stab at it with your finger, you know this game — and the sentence I poked from my book said if you're a laurel don't sweat it if you're not a rose, and that was apropos so I felt seen, but then I was like, great, that's good advice. Thank you. Roses are the only good thing and we both know it but that's cool, I'll be a dumb laurel.)

That was also during the long, long era where I thought that if someone else was A KNOWN GOOD what you should do is be like that person.

Johanna Bath, flame (shape is not a constant)

I want to real quick destroy something, if I may If you still love it, great, but I hate it and I'm gonna kill it

  "GOOD HABITS"

develop the right habits! the seven habits of highly effective people! it's really a matter of good habits, that's all

   HABITS GOOD HABITS OH GOD IT'S SO DEAD I MEAN WHY BOTHER KILLING SOMETHING THAT'S DEAD ALREADY  I'm back to talking about your thing, your work, your expression in the world. And other people holding the Quality of Goodness, people that aren't you. But people you can emulate! In entirely totally the wrong way!   When you see people who have mastered their work and put something strong and beautiful into the world, what's irrelevant is their set of habits. There is no flame in a habit. And nobody's beautiful thing came from a habit, even if whatever they're doing is killing it and the source of the goodness must be everything they probably do.   Work is important, habits are bullshit. You heard me.   DON'T WORK LIKE AN APOLOGY FOR NOT WORKING.

I used to try and choose writing hours for myself, make good habits like a good writer, like the other writers, be all like I show up at ten! I open my computer! And then I put at least 500 words there!    I made at least hundred thousand dead words that way over many years that did not have light in them, ever, any of them — when I wasn't *not* doing that and thus feeling like a lost cause — and I didn't learn anything from it, and I'm not kidding, other than that this didn't work for me. But I didn't learn that until later. I just thought I was busted, a Not Good Habit Haver.    POINT IS: DON'T BEG TO BE GOOD AND HOPE THAT IF YOU'RE REALLY GOOD ABOUT BEING GOOD THEY'LL LET YOU BE GOOD, THEY'LL KNOW YOU'RE GOOD

  I'm not talking about attention and care and bravery and showing up

those things are real

but listen

A of all: You know things already You don't need to work hard in order to become somebody else You have goods already, you have the goods. You've had goods since you started looking around from inside your body. You are a live human stuffed with life and perspective. You have hot wonder + organic curiosity that aim where they really aim. They aim at your form and they aim at your subjects. They never didn't, since you were a child, goddamn it. People might think you're weird re: whatever they are but that's it   (is that dangerous? maybe, can be but so was getting born, so)  And B OF ALL: You also have the perfect way of working to feed your flame and strengthen it and make it so your goods are hot and glowing out where the world — or your own face, which is plenty — can get illuminated and warm    and that way is a secret and you are the only person who can find it and tell it to you.    AND IT WON'T BE HABITS IT FUCKING WELL WON'T

BUT IT WILL BE SOME KIND OF RITUAL.

 You determine what that means to you.   Habits are dead, rituals are alive. It can look like a habit; a ritual can be plain. It might be elaborate and involved or simple but w e i r d But if it doesn't make you want to be there It's a habit and you can kill it because it's not yours.   Other people can teach you things about your form. And that is wonderful.

Your work your work your work your work your work, though, is new Your work is new How you work is new Work in the new way that is your way     

 /

Remedios Varo, Star Maker

  the zephyr went out earlier than usual this evening normally I like to send it around midnight so it's going out on a thursday for your thursday morning   but I'm sleepy tonight so here it comes here it came here it is