Wherein I Completely Revamp An Article and Hate Going Live

I do so hate having to go live (referring to my works, not me - the only act I can perform on stage is pissing my pants). Spent the whole day overhauling an article for SciPhi (which really shouldn't cause me so much grief, it is after all low-circulation and the readers are poor-english-science-students whom I'm sure will read any crap as long as it doesn't involve rotational dynamics or DNA).

I am much much happier with this one, though there's still that nagging feeling that it's not quite as good as it should be, and if I could just be given a few more days I could make it all better.

You see, the thing is, you just can't make it good at one go. You gotta take a few days to rest your brain and your eyes, read something and go to the beach to relax, before you can come back to something you've created and be able to spot the gaping flaws and wrongs that were there but which you missed the last time because you were high on coffee and your eyes were watering and the little fairies were singing about how beautiful the world was.

Ummm. As I am typing this two little girls are peeping in at me from the window facing the corridor. They seem nonchalant about their invasion of my privacy. Of course, it might be because I am rather high right now on caffeine and playing their little game of peekaboo, but still...

There! I managed to snag one on camera - and I'm gonna post it for the world to see! That'll teach them about basic rights to privacy!

Right, where was I? Right, yes, about going live. You see, I am one of those people who absolutely detest not being able to correct my mistakes. Perhaps it's a self-fulfilled-personality-trait, but I do remember when young being told that I preferred pencils to pens and I liked to say that I was sorry because I was uncertain of myself and that I didn't like anything to be set in stone. Whilst I think personality fortunes are crap and that I am about as unceratin of myself as most other people who bother to think about themselves, I do grudgingly admit that I prefer pencils over pens and that my favourite school-time stationary was liquid paper.

My study notes seldom contained cancellations - I would carefully correction-fluid any imperfections and wait patiently for my paper to dry rather than marr the surface of my pristine white paper with gross marks. I also seldom managed to complete a set of notes, being such a slow note-taker. I only thought of it as a problem when, one day in Secondary schoool, I realized that I was correction-fluiding an entire page of words.

In any case, all this resulted in a growing inability to perform in environments where immediate action that brooked no second chance was required. I hated stage, talking face-to-face and even talking on the phone, preferring instead emails and instant messenging where you were allowed at least a modicum of time to correct your sentences before you had to hit send. I would rather you see a photo of me (that I can use photoshop on) than to let you see me in person. If I could, I'd install a backspace in my mouth.

I imagine these artpieces - these three pieces of canvas, the first pristine and white, the second painted over with white paint (or correction fluid, for effect) and the last covered with phrases like "Fuck the world" and somesuch pseudo-artistic raves. I'd call it "Uncertain of Perfection" or something.

And just to add to the message, the artwork would only be available for viewing after the gallery event.

A blog, though, you can post all the crap you want and not get nervous.