Interrogating talent.

May 24, 2015 Candace Morris 0 Comments

In a daze I sat doodling.
Misery and angst boiling my blood. I could't write, I couldn't think.
Just doodle.

Who told us what we are good at?
Who told us what we are bad at?
Who told us we are what we are?

Talents, skills, limits, desires.

Like a resume of self, the attributes we've bought into, told ourselves, been told:

Good at details.
Struggles with big picture.
Bad at math.
Easily annoyed.
Too polite.
Bad dancer.

Challenging self-definition is a must these days. I don't know why it feels so damn imperative, but it does.

The last year, every time I sit to journal, I find myself in a reverie. I wake a few moments later and trees, leaves, swirls, skeletons, birds, doodles of all sorts somehow appeared on my page. And I hear, "You don't draw." And I say, "Maybe I could learn." And I hear, "No. That's what Kelly (or enter any other person) does." And I say, "She doesn't own all the art. She would never want me to not do something for that reason." And I hear, "But it's her thing." And I say, "What if it's yours too?" And I hear, "I would have discovered it by now." And I say, "How could you discover it if you never do it."

Everything begins some

And I wonder if I've held myself back for so long because of one word: talent.
And what if talent is total bullshit?
What if it's only ever about practice? Even for the most talented.
They all started some

What if it could be the answer to every question?
Every nagging bitch inside of me could be shut up by

So I think I will. Maybe teach myself. Maybe just try with no pressure or expectation.Maybe just do what feels good without any reason at all.

I have a good role model. I can watch Bowie and see how she investigates without any self-definition to yet limit or guide her inquisition.

And maybe just start some

As a wise friend said this week, "I'm not going to wait for perfection to start living."


Weekenders: Oregon Coast Edition

May 06, 2015 Candace Morris 0 Comments

Joel and I have long housed a prejudice against the state of Oregon. Not only did the expansive state make for an extremely long drive between Redding, California (where we attended college), and Seattle, Washington (where Joel lived), but Oregon has a reputation of being worst drivers with the worst speed limit AND you have to let someone pump your gas for you (read: talk to strangers!).

And you guys, Washington drivers are bad, quite bad. But not Oregon bad. 

But truthfully, we've not seen very much of Oregon. Joel has lived in Seattle his whole life, so I am not sure what his excuse is, but I'd never seen the Oregon coast either.

So we did. We hitched up Bowie to Gma and Gpa (she was not upset) and took off for a very long drive in a very short weekend.

There's totally something about the Oregon Coast. It's not like California, where I grew up. But it's also not totally typical PNW like Washington Coast. I wasn't expecting the accessible tides, reflective sunsets, surfers, and nearly perfect weather.

Oregon was a backdrop, a lovely movie set to our weekend.

We've made a way for parenting to be awesome. Basically, we still do what we want, but doing "whatever" we want no longer happens whenever we want.  It takes planning. But I'm a natural planner, so we've been pretty good about frequent dates, weekends away, and even longer vacations sans Bowie.

So it's not the getting away that I miss so much. It's the following our whimsy that we don't ever really get to do. On road trips, we don't just stop and enjoy lunch at a pub (sitting at a bar!) for an hour. Shopping trips are done solo or is planned during optimal toddler times of day, restaurants chosen accordingly. Going to movies? What's that?

With no plans at all, we stumbled into pubs for mid-day pints, wandered around stores, read books for hours, played with light and camera settings, and slept a lot. It was more restorative than I imagined it would be.


It's just that time never feels leisurely anymore. Is this desire to recapture how time felt as a child, like you had a ton of it to kill, is that not something we can have as adults? Only if we plan it.