Cheers to Talents and Gifts

The black and white photo you see is a repost, a photo I took of a page from our school newspaper, from my column in the Arts and Entertainment pages, which I co-edited for a time.

It’s a portrait my high-school-era bestie took, and developed in the school’s own darkroom. Somehow, it went missing from the paper’s files— something I really regret.

I’ve shared it here before, but it felt fitting, given the question. Me, circa age 16. Black hair, even if you can’t tell from the photo. That was when I first started coloring it.

I think it’s easy to fall prey to imposter syndrome, in any creative field. Maybe any field, in general.

High school and even college set me up with such lofty expectations for seeking my fortune out in the wild, and none of it has really happened.

Patience, I suppose? More persistence? Continuing to send out drafts of things? Haven’t done that in a bit. I’ve had some success there, but it doesn’t seem to come as easily as it did when I was growing up. Then again, I made a firm habit of sending out boatloads of submissions to literary magazines, as a teen. My output was also greater with both writing and art, when I was younger. Life has taken a toll.

One of my previous “day jobs” involved creating photographs and write-ups for posting on Facebook, helping promote the products we carried. A coworker of mine who was in charge of the Instagram branch of our location’s social media content, also typically did the editing of these scheduled posts. A stray typo of mine here or there, she accidentally overlooked, because she didn’t comb through my posts as closely as everyone else’s. “Because I know you can write.”

Presently, there are months at my current job where we’re required to share warm and fuzzy connections we’ve formed with customers. I may have mentioned this already? The months they weren’t mandatory, I told the Assistant Manager I missed doing them. “You WOULD say that,” she replied. “You write novels while the rest of us are just trying to come up with a story.”

And later, I would learn that even though I missed her email, as it was deleted before I knew it existed, (I must have missed it in the shuffle of things in our collective work account), the District Manager had said she really enjoyed my write-ups and looked forward to reading them in the morning. My Store Manager told me about it later.

A couple customers also came in looking for me, on days I unfortunately wasn’t scheduled, because they were so touched by “thank you” notes I had written and sent.

So, I guess regardless of success with publishing my fiction or poetry, there are still everyday applications to my love of the written word, and of art. This blog. My spicy vampire stories. Posting online, in various capacities, generally. Submitting pieces to art galleries. Creating snazzy e-book covers. And now, I know that with Canva Pro, I can up the resolution on those so the covers for Print to Order paperbacks look more impressive, rather than scaling down the art.

I’m talented at creativity, in multiple capacities. I thrive in it. Without it, I flail about, directionless.

I also love to laugh. Sometimes, it’s a defense mechanism, because I’m nervous, or intimidated. But I have great capacity, as well, to unabashedly revel in life’s many, many amusements.

I was nominated for Best Laugh my senior year of high school. The girl who won the title I think mainly did so because of her general mainstream popularity. I was more of an outlier growing up but got along with pretty much everyone.

Different enough for the “freaker” circle that I hung out with outside of school; studious enough for the accelerated classes peeps (nerdy enough, maybe, more realistically); adequately guilty of secret, rebellious, trouble-making behavior that my classmates in my gen ed classes, and non-accelerated ones once I dropped out of most of those due to stress, still thought I was cool.

I wasn’t “popular” and probably could have participated in more extracurriculars, beyond the literary magazine, newspaper, and a play or two. Would have been wise to have dated more, or gone to more parties, so I wouldn’t feel the need to go so far overboard once college hit. But hey.

I suppose that all also suggests I’m good with people. There have been isolated moments I have inadvertently said entirely the wrong thing, but no one’s perfect.

And I’ve been told I’m pretty fun to work with. Generally, I work hard, but I also try to keep up lively workplace connections with my coworkers, as best I can, while still remaining professional. I’ve made a lot of friends from previous places of employment, spending time with them casually once I started working somewhere else.

A supervisor when I was 17/18 complimented my skills with makeup, when she saw me all done up as a Harlequin clown for Halloween. I get a lot of compliments on my makeup looks now, when I wear it, even if I am FAR from an expert. I don’t really get how to properly use highlighter, and don’t know how to contour. Would probably have to watch some videos. To me, it’s another means of being artistic, with myself as the canvas.

Halloween!!! That’s another big one. Still dress up every year. Elvira may be the real “Queen of Halloween,” but a different supervisor at another job called me the Queen of Halloween, after I had relocated here. It drove her a little crazy, I think, but I made an occasion out of many major holidays, coming in wearing elaborate Mardi Gras beads and the like. It was a call center. None of the customers saw us. I didn’t see the harm, and it was fun. I may not have won the contest on Pajama Day, but I think I had the coolest look, regardless. I was a tough act to follow.

Holidays, in general? Finding and making occasions to celebrate? Had I known about today being the birthday of one of my most treasured writers, I probably would have picked up a slice of cake or some cupcakes. I suppose I could tomorrow.

Maybe I’m not viral on Spotify by ANY means, but I also think I rock playlist creation, and finding good stuff to blend together. Kiddo has some serious chops in this department as well… she has a playlist hilariously entitled “Dissociating in the Whataburger Drive-Thru.”

For my part, I have impressed my one-time pirate radio DJ bestie, in the past.

Listened to my “Malibu Mix” for a little tonight but had to switch it up because one of the songs about California made me sad and nostalgic. Switched to “I’ve developed a taste for you.”

Right now, I’m listening to Sugarcult’s “Los Angeles,” but it’s just angsty enough that I feel more like I’m revelling in my own days of teenage yore. Gritty stuff doesn’t make me sad, generally. I guess angst is also a comfort zone for me.

Just dipped into my “2025 Manifestation Vibes” playlist. Most of the songs are pretty spicy. My main objective, if not to directly find a partner, was to recapture my inner spark, my passion for myself. I read someone else say that creativity comes from an erotic or sexual place, and I don’t disagree. Probably especially apropos for a writer of spicy fiction.

Hm, the opening track, a remix of INXS’s “Suicide Blonde,” might no longer be accurate, now that I have black hair. I included it partly because someone I used to work with called me a “Suicide Blonde,” meaning having “dyed by my own hand.” He didn’t remember that it was a song in the moment, but thought it rang a bell, maybe, once I mentioned it.

I was blonde for already almost half the year. I say it stays. Again, no playlist police.

That means I might have some leeway in adding stuff about black hair. “Black No. 1” by Type O, or “Black Hair” by Nick Cave immediately come to mind.

Wow, looks like Led Zeppelin once performed a song about a woman with black hair, too. Right on.

I just discovered the motherlode of songs about black hair. Too many to preview all before bed. One, I added to “My Polyjamorous Friend” instead, because I liked it, even if it seemed kind of denigrating, but didn’t seem to fit in with a manifestation vibe. I wouldn’t aspire to being thought of in such a blatantly objectifying way.

Did I ever? Maybe. Times change. I think it’s possible to feel empowered by someone being attracted to you, without them simultaneously putting you down for it, or making you feel “slutty.”

Such a stupid concept, along with virginity. I read something really wise about that: You’re not considered a virgin the first time you ride a bike or eat an apple. So why is it so important whether or not you’ve ever had sex?

Also, like a meme I once posted said, “At first, I thought I was a slut. Then I realized I was just behaving like a man.” Total double standard.

All part of our Puritanical cultural inheritance, methinks, and ingrained misogyny.

Moving on, and stepping off the soapbox.

I like to think I’m creative with how I dress, too, even if I tend to favor jeans, with whatever else. They’re my comfort zone. And I still have to get my ears re-pierced, so my accessories have been limited to necklaces and sometimes a bracelet.

I think I’m good at choosing things that flatter my shape and coloration– complexion, hair color of the moment, eye color, etc. Like for instance, I learned young that I can’t wear too much yellow. Turns my skin a shade of rotten-avocado-green. Or seems to bring out that kind of undertone. And I rock an empire waist. And sweaters.

Wow, maybe this post took up a lot more space than it was likely intended to, as a one-off answer to a short question, but it made me feel a LOT better about myself. I have my self-doubt, like anyone, but yeah, I guess I am good at rather a lot of things.

And kissing LOL. I’ve gotten compliments on that. I think that comes with having learned from loves who were WELL travelled. I do appreciate someone who knows what they’re doing.

The emotional aspects of my relationships may have been pretty messed up, by and large, but I’ve been spoiled in other ways. I guess they have to keep you around somehow. Beauty, and pleasure. And maybe a hint of the addictive variable-reinforcement pattern.

If I’m honest, I played my role, as well. Hopefully, I’m more grounded now. Still working on my “stuff,” but I’m making progress, I think.

To progress!

Single or not, I am proud of all the work I’ve been doing on myself, setbacks and all.

And, to Lost Souls! Happy birthday, William Joseph Martin. So thankful for Christian, and Ghost, and Nothing. Maybe he tired of writing horror, but I still find his early stuff amazing. Will check out later works in the future, even if Lost Souls has my heart.

---

---