Turning in on Myself

Today's been a day of introspection.

Alright, you can stop laughing now.

One of the derby girls is starting a Legs McNeil-esque compilation of interviews with a select set of rollergirls from leagues all across the country. She's sent out a questionnaire of about 20 questions for those proud few to answer--should they choose to take on this dangerous task. This isn't for a book deal, this is for us, before the whole DIY derby scene becomes mainstream and sterilized. I'm lucky enough to have received the questionnaire, and in some ways I'm really stumped on how to answer some of the questions. Sometimes I feel like I'm presenting a public-relations story. But then I don't want to come off as bitter and gossipy about some aspects of my experiences. Then yet again I don't know why I'm finding it so difficult to answer questions of why I went ahead with the derby thing. It just seemed to be the thing to do at the time. I knew I'd regret it if I didn't. But is it that simple? Is that why I've put my career in the shitter and my motorcycles are mouldering away in the garage and my husband and cats feel neglected? Is that why I feel that I'm stronger than I've ever been both physically and mentally and that I finally feel like I'm doing something with my life with other people who I thought didn't exist because I didn't think anyone else had my same outlook on life?

In fine art one is supposed to be able to explain why they did what they did art-wise. I can't do that with my art, either. Am I a failure?

See? That's pretty damn introspective for the likes of me, the original Keep It Simple, Stupid girl.

I wish I were more witty with this stuff. More clever. It'd be handy to be a real raconteur for this. No such luck, I'm afraid.

I did finish painting the latest toilet seat. Clearcoating shall begin soonly.