Persevering Like the Tortoise

This week I had occasion to remember a man who’s my role model for perseverance. I was glad he popped up because I’d forgotten he was my role model. Truth is, he’s an ex-boyfriend. Back in the 90’s we lived together with his son. Our break-up was the most amicable in the history of man.

In fact, this was a week of memories what with Tanya Parker Mills (previous post) reminding me of fun times at writing workshops and old childhood and adolescent pals contacting me through Facebook (trippy!). I probably shouldn’t have been surprised to see J-‘s (the ex-boyfriend’s) pottery highlighted in an ad for the local art scene while flipping through a foodie magazine.

Hey, I said aloud (probably to the dog), that could only be J-‘s wondrous pottery.

Hey, I further said as I noticed the credits, J-‘s got himself a real business name now.

Hm…I wondered…Yes! The man some might call a Luddite has a website!

And his pottery won Best in Show! And his art was spotlighted on a local morning show!

And that’s when I remembered that he’s the poster-man for perseverance. He’s the tortoise. He’s the artist who doesn’t follow trends. He’s the artist who hones his craft, pleases himself, and holds steady within his core. He’s the artist who follows his instincts. He’s the artist who says, this isn’t working; time to try such-and-such a new way. He’s the artist who keeps improving.

Now that I think about it, he’s a cross between the tortoise and the Energizer bunny (not the hare, never the hare). He’s the Energizer tortoise: he just keeps going. Better yet, he’s the Energizer tortoise who wears a Timex: takes a licking and keeps on ticking.

In any case, yeah, he’s a role model for perseverance.

At the computer, ready to write. First, as usual, I read my email. Unfortunately, a friend sent a petition. Here’s the link: Guillermo Vargas.

I’m one of those animal lovers who pets every dog within sight, and now I can’t get the images out of my head. Yet, I did just now open up my first draft, position my cursor, touch my fingers to the keyboard…but the images linger.

Animal cruelty gets to me, and in this case especially because I lived in Central and South America. I remember those street dogs and how distressed I was every day — never got used to seeing their sad and abandoned and starved walking-dead bodies.

So, how do I get the writing done today? No one will be surprised if I go to a coffee house (without WiFi!), I’m sure. It might help to fill my head with new images — people at work and at rest and at play with their lattes and muffins…people laughing. That would be good.