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Wish I Were Less Self-Absorbed
Pat taped the opening ceremonies, which we were watching just now and the artfulness and discipline was breathtaking and a bit disheartening. And then I really got depressed, watching the hopeful athletes stream into the bird's-nest stadium. Why not just be excited? Because seeing the performances and visual art upfront made me feel un-original and seeing the athletes made me feel physically unfit, and lazy. I am not unfit, lazy or unoriginal...but compared to what I witnessed tonight, I feel that way.
Watching them made me want to eat too much and so I had to walk away after I fed the cats. Seafood Surprise, or whatever it was called, smelled less disgusting, and so perhaps I'm becoming more accustomed to it, and the peppermint lip balm continues to help.
Why not be more self-accepting and less self-preoccupied?
A Day of Culture
We spent the morning and afternoon in New York City and I was stimulated by a ton of art, but instead of delighting in human capability, I felt jealous of the artists. The Olympics coverage was no different for me. I wrote about this months ago; wish I had made progress....
Tara Donovan wasn't even an artist I knew to look for at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but we passed through her installation on the way to the design exhibit; it was so original and I wished to be so original myself. And then the design show and the superheroes fashion exhibit did not help because I wished I could have thought of the objects and outfits I saw.
Where's the hope? The hope is that Pat and I had a beautiful walk across Central Park in the morning and we made some art together with our friends David and Gerard in the afternoon at E Y E B E A M, where we moved artfully in front of a green-screen, which recorded our every move and made it look like a human kaleidoscope sort of. And the digital puppetry exhibit enabled us to try on various, on-screen props and disguises.
Almost Did Not Admit My Envy
This sadness around not being Olympic-caliber has hit me for as long as I can remember, but it's the first Olympics, where I'm a blogger, and so I need to write about it. How can I stop comparing myself to impossible competition? How can I just accept that I am as God wants me to be and I'm good enough?