you will never arrive over there because you are here now always in truth more light than dark bothness enough wanting more plentiful there is no need to split ambitions, my love it’s all the same and it’s all precise and it’s everywhere you find yourself be fiercely tender and still grow wild
I’m in the lull time between Christmas and New Year’s. That time when it’d be nice if we just all sat by the fire eating cookies, plumping up and getting sugar-stoned before Kris Carr’s 21 Day Cleanse — which I will be ON. Some really hot things will be happening here in 2012. Until then,
I have willed stuff into being. Lot’s of it. Will will willing willfulness. And if you dared to tell me (brave soul, you), in the midst of my willfulness, that I should let go of my expectations, (gasp!) I would have gone stone cold, or snortle-laughed you off, or pressed delete. Because I thought expectation
For the scribbler + business brain in your life… For the visionary, philosopher and artist who deserves to make a stout bankroll off their brilliance… Give the gift of “You can do this.” Give the gift of get it done, polished, and tied up with a virtual velvet bow. Give the gift of shimmering possibility.
Last time I wrote you all letterly-like, it was summer. It was my first showing of letterly love. And I was laying out bits of my soul to dry in the sun. If all calendars were destroyed and I spun ‘round like a Sufi, I might guess that seven years passed in this one. Last
wear your white shirts. get them pressed. use your good dishes — everyday. shave on weekends. do not wait for special occasions. do not tuck your best away in the drawers, in the back of the closet, in your heart. don’t wait for holidays or invitations. declare that your today is the special occasion. call
My 7 year old wonder boy brought this home from school. It applies to just about everything.
This month, I… : told Mercury Retrograde to suck it. : cheered as my kidlet published his first comic book. And sold it. At school. For cold, hard cash. : zoomed from NYC to LA for meetings at magazines (prayers + strategy. wins every time.) Here’s the best of November (and a BEAUTIFUL announcement)… :
Sir Bob Geldolf wrote the lyrics to Do They Know It’s Christmas Time? in the back of the limo on his way to the recording studio. Between 11am and 7pm, with melody samples from Tears for Fears, and Boy George being flown in by Concord, Do They Know It’s Christmas Time? was in the can
And…we are LIVE! Love. Launched. Hearts on sleeves, and bags of creativity-meets-strategy bullion to bank roll your ambitions. It’s here! YourBigBeautifulBookPlan.com Quickly: I got up this morning to make a short “launch message video”. And I cried too much in it. Fried, and excited, I blew my cover. So we’ll keep it at this: Your
