I’ve been on the web since 1996, and earned at least little bits of money most years.  Even when it was really unfashionable to earn anything, even when hosting was stupid expensive.

But I’ve never made a lot of money.

Why Not?

I saw the trends, saw the openings, successfully identified the next bandwagons, knew exactly what Thing I could do that would have made decent income and possibly exploded into rockstar ninja status.

This morning?

While I was still sipping Diet Coke and deciding if I wanted to bother with coffee (I settled on another Diet Coke, instead) a re-heated Tweet popped onto my screen.

JustinKownacki:
Remember the ’90s, when “be meaningful to strangers online” wasn’t a to-do list item?

Wow. Yes, yes I do remember.

Those memories set off an explosion of response in my head.

I’m sure Justin didn’t mean to do that.  He seems nice, after all.  It just…  sorta… happened.

The Resulting kaBOOM?

(This is the first in an experimental tradition of posting whatever-the-hell I feel like on the weekends. For more info on that, see this. Now, carry on please!)

You know what NaNoWriMo is, right?

National Novel Writing Month.  Each November, a gazillion and twelve idiots promise that they will write a novel.  In 30 days.

I know. It’s nuts. If you take on this task, you’ll be moody, cranky, frustrated, and bi-polar throughout November. Your head will hurt, your eyes will burn, and you’ll need an industrial size bottle of Febreze because you’ll forget to shower.

Yeah. I know.

I’m doing it again, too.

At Last!

The Initiatory Parade of Circusness has commenced!  Or started… or finished…  Or… something.  But whatever it’s doing, we have *Winners!* Yay.  If you missed the earlier fun, you can read all about it, here:  Every Circus Starts With A Parade (plus free art) Or just  scroll down to see the parade of awesome, and see who won (or  find out if you’ve won!)

First up? An honorary addition.

Havi Brooks didn’t comment in the parade, but it wouldn’t exist without her – after all, it was her Fluent Self’s pirate ship metaphoring that started this mess. So I’ve given Selma (Havi’s business partner & duck) the honor of Grand Marshall. You can see Selma here in her wee pirate hat, being carried along by her favorite Pirate Monkey, who is named Claude.

(Oh, and you can click on any of the images for a larger version. Clickity Click Click!)

So. Here We Are. Live.

There’s been tons of planning. A wee bit of hoopla, a parade  is in progress…  a few hopeful circus goers have gathered, to see what’s going to happen next.

And me, your fearless ringmaster?  Yeah.  I’m totally overwhelmed with performance anxiety. Totally not in the plans, but at least it  proves that the ‘serene, centered success’ thing? It’s an ideal I aspire to, not a fait accompli pedestal that I peer down upon you from.  We’re all in this insecure chaos together, baby

With the performance anxiety in mind, I’m going to skip the planned posts i’m supposed to be finishing up today, and instead, ramble about “serene, centered success” a bit. 

Dear Artist, Dear Writer,
Dear Dreamer & Dancer,
Organizer & Entrepreneur,

Do you know that you are my favorite person in all of the world?

Your ideas, words, images, melodies, methods… these things you create ? They connect us to each other, to the world, to ourselves.  You inspire, you motivate, you awaken, you comfort.  You make the invisible visible,  give form to the intangible, you help us to make sense out of our own madness, just by breathing on it.

And yes, my love, I know how mind-shreddingly scary this is, this being needed in such a naked, personal way.  I know that sometimes you are afraid to step forward to speak-move-write-share.