In which everything converges

I talked to a friend from my Creative Writing undergrad program anoche.  He is applying for an MFA and has convinced me to pick the idea back up, blow the dust off it, and examine it for worth as a goal.  Goals such as that one motivate me to do what I want to do anyway.  In order to get into a graduate school, I'll want to publish some pieces by the time I apply.  I'll want to have a polished, sharp, articulate writing sample or two to submit for both fiction and nonfiction.  Both of those are things I want to do anyway... so now if I have the goal of MFA in mind, I can do them with purpose, intent, and most importantly, a DEADLINE.

He is only applying to places that have assistantships for all members of the program, which is a great idea.  The reason I sort of discarded the idea of graduate school was the expense and not wanting to go into a lifetime of debt for a Master's.  But there are programs where tuition is paid by you teaching undergrad English classes.  Holla!

I want to learn the harmonica.  (Just like Nicole, coincidentally!)  My mom just unearthed an old wooden one she had in a drawer that probably belonged to my bluegrass uncle.  It's in the key of G.  The other one I have, which is newer and plastic, is in the key of C.  That's exciting to me.  It's exciting that I live in 2010 and I can learn to play the harmonica for free on the internet.  Although I am still checking out library books about it because I am old school.

Allegedly if you play for 10min per day you will learn in a matter of weeks.  Allegedly there is no such thing as a genius who has not practiced her art many, many hours.  No brilliant writer who didn't need to practice to become brilliant. 

Tomorrow night I start a mixed martial arts self-defense class through the community center with my friend Marianne.  She and I have always wanted to take a self-defense class... so we are.  I have always wanted to learn to play the harmonica... so I am.  I have always wanted to be more into visual arts and painting... so I am.  I have always wanted to work at a National or State park... so I'm madly resumeying and finding openings to apply for.  I have always wanted to be a WRITER more than anything in the universe... so I am researching graduate schools and making lists of steps to take to get there.  I AM.

It's Ash Wednesday!  That's where it all converges.  I am going to make a schedule for myself that includes separate, measured time to put toward accomplishing all of my separate goals.  Harmonica, Visual Art, Forestry Work, Writing/MFA.  That's it.  No more drifting.  No more coming home and spending untold amounts of time, ungodly amounts of time, dicking around online.  I might take up yoga while I'm at it.  There's a studio uptown I can afford.  And another goal is to save for a used Subaru Legacy.

My life is going to be clay and I am going to be Demi Moore in Ghost. 

What I'm giving up for Lent: purposeless, unintentioned, drifty living.