I’d dipped into the work and writing of artist John T. Unger years ago, when I first started blogging.

An inventive and talented artist with a generous spirit, Unger not only makes a good living by using the web, he shares his knowledge and experiences out loud on his blog for the benefit of other people on the same path. What’s more, he does it with as much style, humor and care as he seems to put into his art; I’m a sucker for any fine artist who can also write his ass off.

He even cares about his ecological footprint! Unger’s main art these days takes the form of these delightful firebowls, one of which is pictured above. Rather than create them from new materials, he works with salvaged materials from the scrap heap, and fashions them into usable works of art durable enough to last for generations. And he’s doing all of these from the sticks in Michigan, helping to pump money back into the local economy. Making money and making art while he changes the world in his own small way? When I’m ready for a firebowl, count me in!

Unfortunately, he’s currently enmeshed in the some of the weirdest, unpleasant-est litigation I’ve heard of in a while; “Kafka-esque” comes to mind. It’s complex, as these things generally are, so I’ll just quote what Unger himself wrote on his site:

My original art has been copied by a manufacturer who is now suing me in federal court to overturn my existing copyrights and continue making knockoffs. I have a strong case, a great lawyer and believe that if I can continue to defend myself, the case will be resolved in my favor. If I run out of funds before we reach trial, a default judgment would be issued against me and could put me out of business. I don’t believe my opponent can win this case in court and I don’t believe he really intends to try. I believe his goal is to use strong-arm litigation tactics to force me to keep spending money or risk losing my copyrights — not by true adjudication, but by default if he is able to outspend me.

Unger has already spent $50,000 of his own money to defend himself, but he’ll need a lot more firepower (I know—I’m hilarious) if he’s going to expose this weasel for the weasel he is.

To raise the necessary funds, he’s selling his firebowls at a discount and also offering smaller pieces of specially created art for purchase on Kickstarter, the crowdsourcing fundraiser site.

As he says, he’d rather trade you art for your money, but he is accepting donations of any amount as well. I’m still downsizing, so I downsized myself out of a little cash for the cause.

Ultimately, in addition to having right prevail personally—and being able to continue to use his art to support his family—he’s hoping to raise awareness about copyright issues on behalf of all artists. If for no other reason, I support him for that, although as someone who has gotten much value from the information he’s shared, I’m only too happy to support him in some small way.

I hope you will, too, and that you’ll pass along this message to your people as well.

Fight the power! With fire!

(Okay, really—no more bad jokes…)

xxx
c

• Read the saga behind John T. Unger’s Legal Defense Fund
• Buy Fire Imps for the cause (or just make a donation) on Kickstarter by November 7th (tomorrow!)

You will need sweaters
and books
and toothpaste
and a pair of socks
or two
or five
and one more pair of socks
just in case.

Add extra pants
and those three extra shirts
and your maps
and your earplugs,
your mints and phone
your playlists and away-messages
your doodads
gee-gaws
flotsam
jetsam
belt
hat
lucky quarter
sippy-cup
missile-launcher
and you’re set
for at least a week
most likely.

Or maybe
you need nothing
but a hopeful heart
to be filled with adventure
and a mind
with a hairline crack
to let the light in.

xxx
c

Image by noizephotography via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

This blog isn’t the only work of…well, something that had an anniversary lately.

Back in 2006, I started writing a column for professional and aspiring-professional actors about the non-acting aspects of the business. Over time, it’s morphed into more of a marketing column, but I still try to slip in little bits of helpful info I feel they might not be getting from other sources. Because for some reason—and this is a sad thing that makes me a little bit crazy—most actors will not consume anything unless it specifically states “MADE FOR ACTORS.” Such a shame, because not only are there so many other equally, if not more wonderful sections of the bookstore to learn from (and I’m using “bookstore” literally and metaphorically), we often learn more and better lessons about our areas of interest from sources outside of them: less at stake means less noise means more room for the stuff to sneak its way in.

A few months ago, I wrote a piece about the five non-acting books every actor should read. In it, I tossed off a remark about how smart actors (the ones I really write the columm for) can learn about how characters are drawn and their place in shaping story by reading great fiction. One smart actor wrote to me (see? it works!) and asked for a list—as long as I could muster, but at least 10. How could I not oblige?

Here’s what I shared with him:

1. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
2. Diary of a Mad Housewife, by Sue Kaufman (the movie is also good)
3. Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates
4. Easter Parade, by Richard Yates
5. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
6. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon
7. Harriet the Spy, by Louise Fitzhugh
8. The Long Secret, by Louise Fitzhugh
9. A Handful of Dust, by Evelyn Waugh
10. Sophie’s Choice, by William Styron
11. Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen
12. Lucky Jim, by Kingsley Amis
13. Factotum, by Charles Bukowski

As a bonus-extra, I threw in some collections of short stories I particularly like for this exercise (and also because they kick ass):

• The Portable Dorothy Parker (all stories, esp. Big Blonde and Horsey)
• Nine Stories, by J.D. Salinger
• A Curtain of Green, by Eudora Welty (best: “Why I Live at the P.O.”)
• The Angel on the Roof: the Stories of Russell Banks

This is by no means a list of all-time best fiction, although any of these could live there happily. This is a character-driven list, where characters are there not only as agents to move the story forward (magical realism, I’m looking at you!) but to illuminate certain aspects of the human condition that other tools of fiction might not. They’re characters I find especially compelling and well-drawn, even though—or maybe especially because, in some cases—they reveal their clock springs slowly.

I figured that since it’s NaNoWriMo, it might be a fun list to float out there. As Merlin says in his own pep talk from the sidelines, the important thing is not to let reading get in the way of your writing time. But to stay inspired? Hell, yeah, you should read!

Any other great characters out there that should be on the list (where the books themselves are also extraordinary)? Add ‘em in the comments, and let’s all commence to readin’!

xxx
c

Image by Tom@HK via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Even though the official Salute™ is over, with six bags of books ready to go to the used book store on my next trip out that way, I thought it might be interesting to take a look at some of the titles that made the cut.

I’ve pulled D.I.Y.: Design It Yourself from the shelf on the last five purges, but I’ve never been able to let it go.

An exceptionally well-thought out and equally well-produced book, Design It Yourself is crammed (in the prettiest possible way) full of ideas and information about conceiving and executing design projects of all kinds, from logos to photo albums to websites. It seems targeted to what I’d call the ambitious beginner—these aren’t particularly scary projects, and there are ideas that range from super-simple to pretty advanced, but all of them require a kind of roll-up-your-sleeves attitude towards making your own stuff, and assume a level of lively interest in the mechanics and principles of good design.

Or, to put it another way, you could start with any particular project—a business card or a t-shirt, a press kit or printed book—and start to develop a fundamental understanding of the way things work, design-wise. The editor, Ellen Lupton, and the many contributors (all grads from the MFA program at Maryland Institute of Art) don’t want to just walk you through how to put together a newsletter or roll your own notecards; they’d like you to see the beauty in thinking of things from a design standpoint—how they work, and why they work better when you take a thoughtful, holistic view of things.

The best way to do that is to demystify what they can, which they do in excellent overviews of design theory, branding and the DIY ethos, and then to make it all look incredibly sexy and fun. Which, I’m here to say, it is. Once you get your hands a little dirty with this stuff, you get sort of addicted to it.

Even if you decide you’d rather turn certain jobs over to the pros, the pictures, projects and stories will inspire you to open up and embrace your creative side a little more readily. Plus I’m fairly sure they’ll make you a much better client—it’s always easier to get good work out of someone when you have respect for what they do, and some understanding of how to evaluate and participate in the process.

Bottom line: if you’re looking to get a few ideas for the big gifting season coming up hard upon us, or a little smarter about how to look at design in general, Do It Yourself is a fine place to start. And definitely, a fun one.

xxx
c

• Buy D.I.Y.: Design It Yourself, edited by Ellen Lupton, on Amazon
• Visit Ellen Lupton’s website

Image by yuichirock via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Depending on your age, location and/or proclivity toward old shit, you may or may not have some experience with the mid-last-century cultural icon, Auntie Mame.

The character, drawn in fiction by author Patrick Dennis from his real-life experiences as ward of his real-life aunt, is a free-wheeling spirit (or maybe a high-spirited free-wheeler) who exhorts her buttoned-up nephew and anyone else in earshot to grab life by the horns and ride the shit out of it. I paraphrase**, but you get the idea.

What I didn’t realize—and I’m a big fan of the film, as was my father before me—was how much Dennis took that message to heart. I dialed up Facebook this morning and found the most interesting post from my friend, the lovely and talented Polly Frost. She described a recent serendipitous walk she’d taken through the streets of New York City with Dennis’s former editor, Peggy Brooks, during which said editrix confided, “You do know he ended up working as a butler for Ray Kroc who didn’t know he wrote Auntie Mame.”

It blew Polly away to think that such a talented writer would just walk away from novel writing to become a butler. A few people on the discussion thread suggested—and really, if you’re not participating in discussions like this, you’re kind of missing the whole point of Facebook—that perhaps Dennis had made the move out of financial necessity, not absolute free will and desire. And it’s possible that money may have played a part: he burned through what must have been a considerable sum generated by the books and the rights (Auntie Mame was also the source material for the Broadway play, starring Rosalind Russell, a Broadway musical starring Angela Lansbury and the film versions of both.)

I like to think, though, that he was just done with one thing and ready for another. Having had a recurring fantasy of being the Mailcart Guy for a while, and actually having had the exotic and deeply humbling experience of going from Corner Office Lady to 33-year-old gofer, I get that. It is wildly liberating to shuck off something as big and fancy as a career—especially, perhaps, one that has earned one money and acclaim—and embrace something totally different. Not as an “eff you” move, either, although it does tend to shake up people’s ideas of an ordered universe. It’s about acknowledging that something no longer serves, and releasing it to free yourself up for something that does. Because if it ain’t serving you, it’s clutter.

I ran up against it again with family mementos. Earlier on in the purge—the night of the workshop, in fact—I tracked down and sent an email to one of my father’s old friends, a fine illustrator by the name of Stan Tusan whose work I well and fondly remember from my childhood.*** They had collaborated on a children’s book, apparently, and I found what may be the one copy extant in my Pile O’ Shit that I’m sifting through. While I was fine pitching photos—I could toss 90% and still have more than I could view regularly in a lifetime—it’s much, much harder to throw away a project. I’ve made too many of my own not to get the insane amounts of love and energy—not to mention time—that go into such things.

The email reply stung.

Pitch it, it read, and just about that tersely. I was sure I’d offended somehow, which I generally bend over backwards to not do, as I’m (still…STILL!!!!) so concerned with what people think of me. But pitch it I did, and further down the line, I received more emails from Stan—we’re fine, we’re good, we’re back in friendly touch and neither one of us has to worry about this old thing he made with my dead father. Which, I have to tell you, is probably 100% fine with old Tony Wainwright. The man was sentimental about music and good times and great Spaghetti Westerns, but a keeper of crap he was not. I know: it drove his father, my grandfather, king-god of hoarding against future use, right up the wall of his cluttered-to-the-end study.

Here’s the thing: no one’s right. No one’s wrong. No one can tell me or you or Stan or my grandfather what to keep. (Especially my gramps, unless you’re one of them psychic types.) In the end, though, my grandfather died alone, in a hospital bed, of a broken heart. The most meaningful thing in his life was a person, my extraordinary grandmother, and she’d left the planet several weeks earlier. And her constant refrain, even as she’d hand over some cherished object still warm with her unbelievably beautiful energy? “Sell it!” she’d whisper, gleefully, conspiratorially.

Trade that thing for freedom is what I now realize she meant. Don’t get burdened by your choices; let them liberate you. Let each thing that touches your life enrich you in some way—with joy, with experience, with the understanding born of pain—and let it the fuck go. It is not that thing you want: it is the thing that thing makes you feel.

This is the last day of the clutter-clearing salute. But it is the beginning of a brand new, completely thrilling and not a little bit terrifying chapter of my life.

May it be the same for you, only completely different. And may we both meet up again at some point to share the things we’ve really kept…

xxx
c

*I’ve given up assuming that we all share the same cultural references which means, I think, that I have a shot at becoming a responsible grown-up in the back nine of my life.

**The actual quote I was thinking of is this: “Live! Life’s a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!” There are quite a few more at IMDb, along with a page for the movie starring Roz Russell. It’s a fab flick, and I recommend you rent it, or check it out from your public library. If you must be acquisitive about it, though, I’d be honored if you’d purchase it via my Amazon affiliate link.

***”My dog has fleas!” I still think of it every time I (try to) whistle. Thanks, Stan!

Image by zoutedrop via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

When you take a cold, hard look at them, most to-do lists can be boiled down to a few essential items: work on something important and play with someone important.

I cannot think of a more appropriate way to celebrate today, the fifth anniversary of this ungodly-long-winded blog, than doing just those two things.

xxx
c

(Thanks to Miss Dyana Valentine for pointing out that it was, in fact, the fifth anniversary.)

Image by Colleen Wainwright via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

I wiped almost a thousand people from my life today in less than two hours.

To be fair, many of them were ‘bots, duplicates and other sync-rot from Google Contacts and Address Book. But a fair number were people—actual human beings—whom I’ve met along the way, one way or another, and either lost touch with or wanted to lose touch with, but didn’t have the nerve to delete.

Pruning one’s address book or Rolodex back in the hard-copy days could be a melancholy affair. Did you cross out that dead (or dead-to-you) person, or let it ride? Did you pull the little white cards from their metal (or later, plastic) spools, conceding defeat, acknowledging opportunities abandoned and hills not conquered? Or did you leave them in there thinking “Maybe…maybe this year I’ll go back and reconnect with Ken over at Spacely Sprockets?”

Today, it seems easier but really, is it? The select/delete action is so simple, but so brutal. Just like that, these people and the promises those relationships once held are gone forever—again and again and again. Almost 1,000 of them, in less than 120 minutes. For every one that was a relief to let go of (and trust me, the photo exercise from Brooks’ workshop primed me for some serious eradication action), there were 10 that were harder, and one or two that made me downright melancholy. Decluttering photos made me feel lighter; decluttering my address book just made me feel that much closer to death.

Okay—it also made me feel like a loser. When I’d see all the information I’d plugged into some of these entries—contacts that I added to be a friend or opportunity collector more than anything else, I felt like there was a big, red “L” stamped on my forehead. Talk about sunk costs! These entries represented hours and hours of my life I’ll never get back: hours I could have put into making something or reading something or just actually being with someone.

We have versions of The Container Store and IKEA’s excellent storage solution porn aids all around us. It is so much easier to feel virtuous rearranging and categorizing than it is to take a cold, hard look at what we legitimately have at our disposal that is of utility.

I’ll talk more about my criteria for cutting (and keeping) later on, in a screencast showing how I organize my contact management system (if you can call Address Book that without laughing).

In the meantime, may I repeat my mantra of the past almost-three weeks: Let go, let go, let go…

xxx
c

Image by Sreejith K. via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

A thus-far monthly but forever occasional round-up of what I’ve been up to and what I plan to be. For full credits and details, see this entry.

Colleen of the future (places I’ll be)

• Los Angeles Escape from Cubicle Nation Workshop (Wednesday, November 4) The final stop on author/blogger/coach Pam Slim’s epic workshops-as-book-tour for 2009, this is the place to be if you’re looking to quit your job and create a self-employed lifestyle for yourself or reinvigorate the one you’re in now. More details and sign up at Pam’s site; use the code “getalife” when checking out to get $30 off, making your final cost for a whole-day workshop (plus free copy of the book, plus free follow-up group coaching call) just $138. Oh—and there’s 90 minutes of me sharing my best stuff on how to brand yourself via the Internet/etc. Which I happen to know a little something about. (Sign up!)
• Work the System Boot Camp (Monday & Tuesday, November 16-17) In the few months since I first read Sam Carpenter’s fantastic book about reframing life to see it as a series of systems, my ability to see clearly, get things done and yes, declutter has been greatly enhanced. I’m looking forward to soaking in it for a day and a half, as well as getting to meet my now-good friend (and client!), Sam, and his lovely wife, Linda, for the first time. (Even if they do rag on me for my insane caffeine addiction.) And it’s a measly $100! Join us!
• Ignite:Portland (Thursday, November 19) Unbelievably, I was selected (one of two non-locals!) to participate in this very cool mini-marathon presentation event. 20 slides in five minutes, automatically advancing every 15 seconds. My talk is about poop and love. (Duh, right?) If you’re local to PDX, I’d love for you to come!

Colleen of the Past (stuff that went down)

• The Monthly Los Angeles Biznik Meet-Up at Jerry’s I won’t be at this one since I’ll be 1000 miles away, up in PDX, but all the cool kids will! Come out and meet my lovely co-conspirator, Heather Parlato, who will be handling hosting duties along with the lovely Beth Goldfarb this time around. Cocktails, conversation and oversized plates of deli food. It’s awesome, and it’s free. (Well, not the drinks or the deli food.) Just register (free!) to become a member of Biznik, then sign up (also free!). Easy-peasy, Cousin Weezy!

Colleen of the Present (ongoing projects)

• communicatrix | focuses My monthly newsletter devoted to the all-important subject of increasing your unique fabulosity. One article per month (with actionable tips! and minimal bullsh*t!) about becoming a better communicator, plus the best few of the many cool things I stumble across in my travels. Plus a tiny drawing by moi. Free! (archives & sign-up)
• The Virgo Guide to Marketing I’m just over halfway through a year-long project where I work on my marketing daily and blog about it weekly. People seem to dig it, as well as the podcasts I record weekly. Go figger.
• Act Smart! is my monthly column about marketing for actors for LA Casting, but I swear, you’ll find stuff in it that’s useful, too. Browse the archives, here.
• Internet flotsam And of course, I snark it up on Twitter, chit-chat on Facebook, post the odd video or quote to Tumblr, and bookmark the good stuff I find on my travels at StumbleUpon and delicious. If you like this sort of stuff, follow me in those places—I only post a fraction of what I find to Twitter and Facebook.

Finally, because a few people have asked, I’d like to start including a “notable posts” or roundup of posts here, but I’m not quite sure what form it should take to provide the most enjoyment and/or utility. If you have any ideas about this—stuff you’d personally like, or ways you’ve seen it done well by others that I could shamelessly lift (with credit…probably…), please do let me know in the comments!

xxx

c

Photo of Arno J. McScruff housed on Flickr, where I also occasionally stick pixels.

One old sock
one cracked mug
one pair of outgrown pants
one set of unused silver

One full-on ensemble
of antique dining room furnishings
worth their weight
in baby pandas
and the dreams
of dead people

One of anything
now unloved
still here
will weigh you down
will hold you back

Will fill
the space you give it
and slowly kill
what drew you to it
to begin with.

But—

One of anything
once beloved
let go
will let in
an infinite measure
of the love it held
(or that you hoped
it would).

Let go
let go
and let in
what is not quite there
what has yet to be
what is all around you now
but that you cannot see
for want of room
to view it.

xxx
c

Image by Kevin via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

I did take some putter-y, relaxation time to declutter my music files over the past weekend, though, and as I was combing through things, sorting and deleting, it occurred to me that there might be some utility in sharing my methods for taming the electronic hydra that is my iTunes folder. This screencast runs down a bunch of tools and tricks I’ve gathered over the years and includes stuff like

• using tags to create playlists
• the kinds of playlists (and playlist groups) I’ve found useful and fun
• setting up a master playlist so that you can let iTunes deejay your whole collection without having that pesky podcast, screaming guitar or Christmas song jump in and stomp on your audio buzz

Show me yer rig! (iTunes edition) from communicatrix on Vimeo.

Remember, if you click the little button in the bottom-right corner of the player, you can watch it in full-screen mode. And if you click through to Vimeo, you should be able to watch it in high-def—very helpful with all that teensy type. Also, I’ve enlarged the mouse pointer thingy this time, which may help with legibility.

Not strictly about decluttering, although it gets one thing off my to-do list!

Please let me know what you think in the comments!

xxx
c