Five Things! And ten million to do.

Tonight I’m going to see Five Things, a really cool event curated by Miss Amelia Gray, local writer and badass. It’s only a dollar to get in, and trust me, you’ve never seen anything like it. Five creative people are given an object and their task is to make something about it. When Southpaw contributed, the object was a lightbulb painted like the American flag. I can't wait to see what's on deck.

http://fivethingsaustin.com/

Otherwise, I have ten million things to do. This Etsy thing has me BUSY. It’s a good kind of busy, believe me, but it’s kinda hard to keep up with if I don’t do some kind of work every day. It’s so much fun, though – exploring the world of online advertising, interacting with other Etsians, packing orders with love, handing out business cards, and basking in the validation that comes with people actually wanting to buy what I’ve made. I can’t believe it’s only been a month – a fantastic way to kick off a new year. I also can’t believe I waited this long. No, really, I can believe it, because I am a person who obsesses over details so much that I often find it very difficult to make decisions. With Etsy, though, I dove in headfirst, knowing winter (in Austin at least) would soon be over. I opened my shop bare-bones, with just great photos and product, and for taking that action I have been rewarded. Just goes to show that my favorite saying holds true – LEAP, and the net really will appear.

For now, I’d like to get a little ahead of the game so I can work on new designs. I’ve got the yarn – now all I need is the time. In just another couple of weeks I’m taking a class at Stitch Lab, where I hope to diversify my offerings even further. Aprons! Bags! Skirts! What would YOU like to see in my shop? Is there something you'd like me to make for you? Your comments, please.

Hearts for Haiti.

Aftershocks are sending people running into the streets. A man was found alive after 10 days buried in the rubble. The threat of chaos and spreading disease hovers constantly. As the magnitude of the situation continues to reveal itself, it is clear that Haiti STILL needs our help. There are elements of rebuilding that don’t even occur to the average person, such as what to do with the actual debris (I heard about this on KUT the other morning). Those chunks of concrete can actually be repurposed as productive things like artificial reefs to promote better fishing. I don’t even need to mention the enormous population of orphaned children, or that Haiti is now the largest country of amputees. Figuring out jobs is another issue, now that Port Au Prince is basically uninhabitable. The undeveloped countryside is filling up with tents, while food distribution is spotty and disorganized. It's all so much to digest, and it's not going to be over anytime soon. The world is standing by for this broken little country.

The idea to donate a percentage of my Etsy sales occurred to me the day after the earthquake, after I tried to lift weights at the gym and couldn’t tear my eyes away from the TV. I had already made a donation to Disaster Relief International, but I wanted to do something else, something more personal. When I sat down to update my listings, I found a long list of sellers who had exactly the same idea. Of COURSE Etsy cares, and in a major way. I mean, LOOK at this - just a search for the keyword "Haiti" brings up 5,368 results.

So far, my little baby shop has generated $100 for the Red Cross. Here are a few more cool sellers/items whose proceeds will go to the Haiti relief effort. I hope you’ll consider making another small donation, in some way, to the charity of your choice, whether directly or via Etsy. Your extra $5 or $10 WILL make a difference as these organizations pour all of their resources into the effort.

whatsallthisstufffor

modernbird

brehanclaire

sweetblue

annekiel

Come, let me read you a story.

This weekend I'll be participating in American Short Fiction's celebration of its latest volume. I'm really excited to be involved with ASF for this event. I first encountered this Austin-based, nationally recognized literary journal when I attended their summer reading at Cafe Caffeine. My friend Kelli Bland was participating, Owen Egerton was emcee-ing, there was free beer, and it was right in our neighborhood. It turned out to be an entirely engrossing evening, so much so that I subscribed to the journal right there on the spot. Inspired by both the writing and the performances, I made sure to introduce myself to editor Jill Meyers. I cut my teeth on performing poetry and prose at speech tournaments in middle and high school, so this is truly getting back to my roots. Something special happens when I have a piece of literature in front of me, in front of an audience. I absolutely live for it. So come, sit, and let me read you a story! It's about a magician with a very special trick. There may or may not be blood and guts involved.

Support indie publishing and the Austin literati! The new issue is FANTASTIC. And the cover has kittens on it.

American Short Fiction Winter Reading Redux

Saturday, January 23, 7pm

Space 12

Free admission, BYOB

Free appetizers from Xen Kitchen

Facebook event

More info on American Short Fiction

Welcome to the Domestic Rennaissance.

Well, hello there. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? September arrived and I was whisked away from my burgeoning blog by Evil Dead: The Musical. I was never a fan of the horror genre, truly, but now I can say with certainty that I have been baptized by blood and guts. Evil Dead will be part of my seasonal Halloween viewing each year from now on. I played Annie from ED2 and had a blast saving the world from Candarian demons for four sold-out weekends in October. It was a fantastic bloodbath that kicked my ass every single night, and I loved every second of it. I’m not sure if I’ve ever worked so hard on a show. I'm fairly certain I’ve never been so creatively fulfilled. I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with such a talented director, cast, and crew, in such an empowering and challenging role. How is it possible that I was turned on to both sci-fi and horror through the medium of stage musicals, all in the same year? Viva Bruce Campbell and viva Austin theatre!

So what have I been doing since then, you ask? Gosh. It’s taken me a couple of months to figure that out, but after much resting, nesting, and a 2-week holiday break, I started an Etsy store! Cue the fireworks! I taught myself to knit about 6 years ago while trying to survive a New York winter, and I think I can safely say it’s my craft of choice (a close second to performing). I make small garments – I don’t have the patience for sweaters – but I am endlessly challenged by the winding of yarn around needles in beautiful ways. There is a unique satisfaction that comes from making things slowly, stitch by stitch, row by row, patiently and attentively. I’ve made gifts for friends to great fanfare, so I thought why not give it a chance in the marketplace? After all, everybody’s doing it. By the way, in case you don't know, Etsy is AMAZING. Revolutionary. The great bastion of the Domestic Renaissance. A smart, progressive, robust platform for indpenedent artists to sell, network, and make a profession out of a hobby. Color me inspired.

Check out my wares, please, and stay tuned! I’m open to any feedback and/or suggestions you may have. We’ve got a couple more months of cold weather, so get yours already! Pet items coming soon...if I can just convince my cat to model some legwarmers.

www.missmaggielove.etsy.com

Huge surprise last week: my Cozy Cowl in Eggplant made it to the front page on Etsy! Talk about hitting the jackpot – that item got almost 650 views over the span of about 2 hours. What a thrill! I couldn’t have done it without photographic help from my unbelievably talented sis-in-law, Julie Wilhite. I swear, every time I look at her website, I cry. Her juxtaposition of people, settings, light, and form never fails to move me. Check it out. You’ll see what I mean.

www.juliewilhite.com/blog/

Once upon a time in New York City.

Up to this point, I’ve avoided writing about the time I spent living in New York. Well, I don’t know if I’ve consciously avoided it; it just hasn’t happened. It’s not because of anything specific, really. Perhaps the experience was too big for me to process – too many emotions, too much uncertainty, too many directions to choose from. It was a 3 ½ year challenge laced with fabulousness and tremendous personal growth. By the end of it I was so ready for a simpler life, a better fit, that when I finally broke away I never looked back. The choice to leave was just as brave as the choice to move there, and it's still the best decision I've ever made.

My Austin life has now eclipsed the time I spent in New York. I have not been back to visit, nor have I had more than a fleeting desire to do so. The amazing friends I made there are constantly with me in my heart, but this nostalgia has yet to convince me to choose a NY trip over a more relaxing vacation. Sometimes it seems like those years in New York were just a dream, but it becomes very real when I consider how much it has informed my perspective and my independence. Finally, I’m starting to understand what it all meant.

Last weekend I wished my friend Laurel farewell as she set forth into her new chapter: the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, for a master’s degree in dance therapy. She’s so much more ready for The City than I was, with a clear path and a few extra years of life experience. I know she’ll be fine – more than fine, she’ll be glorious – but I felt I should at least impart some words of wisdom. Survival tips, perhaps. What could be more useful?

So I sat down to find within me what I needed to share about my former life as a New Yorker. I was surprised at what this exercise brought out in me. When I set out, I started with just 10 tips, and once I was rolling it became 15, then 20, then 25, now 35, and I could go even further. In fact, I could probably write volumes. Hey, maybe I will.

Here's the list, expanded from the original 25. Feel free to leave your additions in the comments.

Maggie's Tips for the New York Life

1. Be brave!
2. Give yourself some credit every day.
3. When you start to feel lonely, know that it’s okay. Everyone is.
4. Avoid Times Square at all costs, and Macy’s during the holidays.
5. Keep in mind that men are different there. Young people don’t come to NY to settle down – they come to stir things up. Be careful with your own heart.
6. Stick to your course. Distractions abound.
7. Go to yoga. Meditate. Explore spirituality. It’s far too easy to get lost, especially in the winter.
8. People won’t be as friendly. Your grocery store checker won’t smile or look you in the eye or tell you to have a nice day. It’s not personal – it’s just the Yankee way.
9. Look both ways when you’re crossing the street.
10. Expect to be cat-called daily in your own neighborhood.
11. Understand that it takes an inordinately long time to get to know new people. You will appear, at first, as a blank slate. Don’t lose sight of the parts of you that may be invisible to others.
12. Go to shows! All the time! And always buy your tickets super early because they WILL sell out.
13. It’s gonna start getting dark at 4:30pm in late October. Take your vitamin D.
14. Purchase your Metrocard with a credit or debit card. If you lose it, you can get a prorated refund.
15. Go home for the holidays, whatever the cost.
16. There is no way to understand what it’s like to live in NY until you’ve actually lived in NY. Keep this in mind when trying to communicate with those who have never experienced it (especially your parents).
17. Appreciate H&M every chance you get.
18. Beware the black puddles in winter, and puddles in general.
19. Know that you will probably have to do a lot of things by yourself, and that’s okay.
20. Take care of your feet!
21. Have your window unit A/C delivered, if at all possible.
22. Beware the temptation to drink too much/too often in the absence of the responsibility of driving.
23. Be firm when saying no.
24. Be careful. Be smart. Be aware. Consider your safety.
25. Call your friends.
26. Wake up each and every morning knowing how amazing you are, and what a difference you are making for people in the world.
27. Only buy as much as you can carry.
28. February sucks, but March is worse. It'll trick you. Don't count on spring until late April.
29. When taking the train late at night, ride in the conductor car.
30. You can order any type of food you can imagine and have it delivered at all hours of the night, but you won't find queso on anyone’s menu. Keep some Velveeta and Rotel handy.
31. New York cops can really be jerks. Don't expect them to give a shit.
32. Get lost. A lot. Your sense of direction will build with time.
33. Don't touch the handrails in the subways unless you are wearing a hazmat suit.
34. Protect your ears: be aware of your iPod volume when riding the train.
35. One day at a time. Sometimes that's all you can do.

F@#% YOU, CRUTCHES.

CRUTCHES SUCK.  I'm in my 3rd and next-to-last week (hopefully) of doctor-prescribed hobbling, and now I fully understand why I've been getting so many pitying looks and cluck-clucks from people I happen to encounter.  Because it SUCKS.  Being a dancer, I think of myself as a graceful person, even in my daily life.  I've always taken great care in the way I present myself to the world.   I cannot glide through a restaurant or a bar or a party. There is no vanity on crutches. There is only clunking.  And staring.  And sheepish glances.  That's what I hate the most – the staring.  My sweet boyfriend keeps offering to carry me, and while that is appealing in a practical (and romantic) sense, it would probably just alarm people and cause even more rubbernecking.  

I’m lucky that I’m 30 and have never sustained an injury that calls for this type of effort, but I’m not used to the kind of attention it brings.  At first I was surprised and touched by all the people who held doors for me and offered their sympathy and stories.  This is just a month out of my life, after all, and for that I am grateful. However, as the days pass and the bruises develop on the insides of my arms, I’ve started to notice that for every considerate door-holder there is also a giant asshole.  Like the guy who was approaching the line at the movies at the same rate as me, from the same distance, who looked down at my foot and then turned around to get in line in front of me.  Or the student who knocked over my crutches, ignored the clatter, and just kept on walking.  Luckily that’s about it thus far, but I’ve gained perspective, that’s for sure.  

There is one perk in my situation – that beautiful blue handicapped parking permit, good through January – but it isn’t even all it’s cracked up to be.  It’s not like you’re guaranteed a spot.  Lots of times they’re already taken, leaving the option to either crutch it from the far reaches of the parking lot or be dropped off to stand and wait alone for my companion, should I have one.  There are a lot of handicapped permits out there, so I guess I’ll adjust my mindset and join that rat race for a little while.

I’ve passed the halfway point now, and for the most part I think I’ve been a good sport.  Of course I've had a few fleeting moments of pouty self-pity, but I think anyone would.  It’s just not fun, and it’s summertime, and unfortunately I have to miss out on some stuff.  The costs of going to, say, a concert, are almost always going to outweigh the benefits of engaging in a more sedentary activity, such as watching a movie or hey, blogging!  This focused rest and reflection is all in the interest of healing and hopefully dancing again as soon as possible.  I miss it.  The stakes are quite high.  I’d be really, really sad if I couldn’t dance anymore.  I don’t even want to think about it. I’m lucky that I don’t have to.  

Today my boyfriend sent me a link to a Mental Floss story about disabled dancers determined to do their work, even on crutches.  It is mind-blowing and unbelievably relevant.  Watch and be moved by these artists’ sheer will to perform, no matter what the obstacle.  Their bodies are instruments, no matter how differently-abled they may be.  Perhaps it’s time for me to quit bitching about my temporary handicap and explore creativity from a different angle.  I’m inspired.

Trekkies.

Last weekend, inspired by some previews we saw at the Alamo Drafthouse a month or so ago, my boyfriend and I watched Trekkies, the 1997 documentary that exposed the wild, certainly weird, passionate, utterly thorough universe of Star Trek fans. I expected to be entertained; the snippets I'd seen were enough to convince me to add it to my Netflix immediately, but I never expected I could be so moved.

I've never known a true Trekkie, but I sure wish one would show up in my life. I LOVE that kind of fanaticism, that ability to wrap onself up in the most minute details, to be lost in one context while physically existing in a completely different one. I was relieved to see how people who go that far with it are still allowed to be the way they are in the world, how their commitment transcends whatever teasing or ridicule they have been subjected to.  The dentists with their office fully equipped in Enterprise regalia, who wear their costumes every single day, even outside the office. The woman who served on the Whitewater trial in the 90s in full Starfleet uniform and now works at a Kinko's-type establishment where everyone calls her "Commander." Young Gabriel Koerner with his robust collection of action figures, his perfectly constructed uniform, and his endearing mispronunciation of adult words.  "Spiner Femme" Anne Murphy, the very definition of obsession, who finds escape from her daily life by gazing out into the Hollywood Hills in the general direction of Brett Spiner's home.  A woman brought back from the brink of suicide by attending Star Trek conventions. The outlet of fantasy and identity Star Trek provides is a gift to these people.  It's a community, one where everyone has a purpose and everyone is accepted.

By diving into all these niches and bringing out the three-dimensional people inside, the film balanced the exposition of that world without exploitation. Alongside all the outrageousness, the filmmaker (Roger Nygard) managed to bring home the overarching messages of the Star Trek series.  It was the first mainstream presentation of diversity on such a large scale.  Martin Luther King, Jr. personally called the original Uhura to convince her to stay with the show beyond the first season because of the enormous strides her presence made for the black community.  Star Trek put science onstage and forced people to think about the future in progressive, creative ways. I can't call myself a fan – with such limited knowledge I know I don't deserve it – but I can't help but appreciate the institution.  They truly did "boldly go where no man has gone before," and we are so much wiser for it.