Category — stick people

On my way back from Granville Island this morning, I noticed an older couple taking each others photo in-front of the ships.

I approached with a smile on my face and offered to take a picture of the two of them together.

The gentleman smiled back – a little hesitant to hand his camera over to a complete stranger. I set my purchases on the ground and he shrugged, grinned and handed me the camera as his wife came over.

“This nice young lady said she’d take our photo!” he said. His accent seemed to be somewhere from the southern United States.

His wife smiled and started pointing out what she’d like for me to get in the photo with them.

I took two pictures, including the boats and mountains, and handed the camera back.

“You Canadians are so nice!” the wife said.

The husband laughed and said, “I’m moving to Canada! You guys are just so sweet and helpful.”

I couldn’t help but laugh myself – it’s the old Canadian stereotype: we’re polite and friendly. However, if making that stereotype a reality for visitors to Vancouver makes their day, I’m happy to do it.

I wished them a good visit and as I picked up my things and started towards home, I heard them offer to take another couple’s photo in-front of the ships. “‘That nice young lady took our picture and we’d like to do the same for you.”

The other couple happily accepted and I continued on. I have to admit to feeling absurdly happy; it really is the little things that count.

Two months ago I left a technical writing contract to pursue…something.

I wasn’t sure what that something would turn out to be, but I’m getting a clearer picture now. I know writing is a major component and my stick people drawings too.

So, fine – I have the freedom to pursue writing and drawing now. Lots of freedom and my husband’s blessing and a good support group – all good things for venturing out of the cube farm.

Last night I set out goals, I made a very doable “to do” list and yet by 10:30 a.m., I found myself mired in MSN conversations about video games, RPGs, personal relationship crises (not mine), random chit chat and idle web-surfing while reading replies.

This is not the work I committed to.

I would never have frittered away the morning on MSN conversations at my contract job. I would have chatted a little, but politely cut it off to get some real work done. Not that I don’t love chatting with my friends, I do. I want to hear about their day, their thoughts, their troubles – all of it. But, never really in-depth talks at work unless it was really dire.

I had rules when I was in the office.

Conversations fell into two categories: Fun/Unimportant and Serious. You can’t decide between whole wheat and white bread for lunch? That’s Unimportant and unless I was waiting around for my project to compile, I never paid much attention to that sort of chatter. You just found out your girlfriend sent all your belongings to your mother’s because she no longer wants to live with you? That’s Serious and I made some time to talk and make plans to continue discussions right after work.

Emphasis on the “after work”. I did my job first, and only rarely – and for really, really Serious things – did the work day take a back seat.

Now that I’m working from home on something a lot less 9 to 5ish, there seems to be an impression that what I’m doing now is really nothing more than a frivolous hobby.

That impression is my fault.

People talk to me and I feel rude if I don’t really listen and respond accordingly. I think I do this in part because a) I was raised to be polite and b) I don’t take what I’m doing seriously either.

I mean come on, I write blog posts and draw stick people. Yeah, that’ll put me on the map. I keep looking at what I want to do and thinking: “This isn’t a grown-up job. I need to do something meaningful.”

For instance, I showed my portfolio of stick people drawings to a few other folks and when I heard the term “artist” come up – I laughed and blushed. Artist!? Pshaw. Waterhouse is an artist. Klimt is an artist. The woman drawing the Mona Lisa on the sidewalk with chalk is an artist.

Me? I’m a doodler.

As for being a writer…I’m a good technical writer. You want a help file that will give you step by step instructions without making it complicated? I’m your girl. These blog posts – well everyone and their brother has a blog. That can’t be serious work.

Except that it is – or at least, it can be if I take it seriously. And if it isn’t serious work, it’s the groundwork for the writing that will be.

So now that I’ve admitted the problem is me, I need to fix it. Maybe I am an artist! Maybe my little stick people are going places. I’ve been a technical writer so why can’t I just say that I’m a writer and leave off the technical part? Besides – no one ever knew what I was talking about when I said “technical writer” anyway and I never thought of it as my lifetime career.

My first step towards fixing this mess is setting my status to “busy” on MSN. If I am going to commit to this, I have to actually commit to it instead of farting around waiting for the Big Idea to fall out of the sky. That isn’t going to happen – I will have to work at this.

Sorry friends, there will be a lot less MSN chit chat in the future so I can focus on the work I keep saying I need to do.

Maybe now I can get on with this new work!

Yesterday, I attended an Emotus Operandi meeting – the meeting that will help me get my butt in gear and moving forward with my work.

I made a great 2-week plan at the meeting:

• 3 pages of writing
• 2 blog posts a week
• 2 drawings a week

I will have to explain my success or failure with these goals at the check-in in two weeks.

So today, I cleaned the apartment, took out all the recycling – and did I then sit down to work?

I did not.

I found myself suddenly wanting to play World of Warcraft. I thought, “Oh why bother with work now. It’s 1 p.m., starting anything is pointless.”

Part of me was being as charming as a toddler throwing a tantrum – “I don’t wanna work! I wanna play. You’re mean and I hate you!”

But, after meeting the other people at Emotus Operandi, I feel a sense of responsibility. On the days when I can’t get it together for me, I should try anyway because the idea of going back to the group empty-handed after all that great advice I got is unthinkable.

And now that I did some work, I can go play with a clear conscience!