|Yes, actually me in my jeans|
Giving up, throwing in the towel, surrender, cashing in your chips and calling it a loss – all ways to say “It’s over. I quit.”
So what does that have to do with a picture of my jeans? Well a lot actually. You see, those jeans are practically antiques. They are seven years old and they have been worn ragged. They were ripped in half at the knees. They have a barbeque stain on them from a cookout four years ago.
So why do I keep these barbeque stained ragged old jeans around? I like them. They fit just right. They are exactly long enough, go right down to the bottom of my foot. Not long enough to walk on but right there at ground level. That is a tough feat to accomplish. Being exactly 6’ ft tall, my legs are about 34 ½ inches long. Finding jeans long enough has been an epic, lifelong quest.
|Those brightly colored things are flowers|
Why is this important? It is relevant because they are just like everything else in my life. I have a hard time giving up on anything. I may take longer to accomplish things but I don’t call it quits. I eventually reach my goals.
I hang on to clothes that have probably experienced the equivalent of Niagara Falls because they have been washed so many times. They stick around in my closet (which is the chest at the end of my bed by the way – where I toss all the clothes I repeatedly wear) for years and years. Once I find a t-shirt, shorts, sweater, jeans – or slacks if you’re British – that I like, I wear them until they are literally hanging on by a thread.
When my clothes, particularly my jeans, these jeans to be exact, are hanging on by a thread – I don’t give up. I add more threads. To be specific, I add more cloth and thread. I patch the holes with colorful cloth from bandanas, other old clothes, socks – whatever strikes me as fun. The whole being able to sew comes in handy in this respect. Sure I am no seamstress and my stitches are messy but I don’t worry about it. It’s just me, it’s my style and I like it.
|Yes, actually my writing|
My writing is the same way. When I come up with an idea that I like, I don’t give up on it. I have been working on the same story for almost a year now. I have written it, rewritten it, edited it, edited it some more, set is aside and then rewritten it again, and again. I have printed it up so many times I have probably destroyed three quarters of a small forest in paper usage.
Every time I find a fault with my work I don’t just chuck it in the trash. No not me. I edit it and when necessary I go back to the beginning and rewrite. I add new ideas. I add new threads. I add more substance.
Now to be clear, I do not write and rewrite in my favorite antique jeans. That would be combining two things I love but it just doesn’t happen. I write and rewrite in my pajama pants. Pajamas remind me, especially when I’m stressing out over editing – to relax. Chill out. Nothing can ever be all that serious in pajamas.
*For anyone wondering what is written in large letters at the bottom of the one page - it says "Come up with cool slogan for stickers and magnets. The Infinitum is waiting. The Infinitum awaits..." *