Positive Deviance

Positive deviants are the Martha Stewards of this world. They are the theatre company DV8 and the Laura Margolis Jarblums. Positive deviance is doing something that is outside of the norms, but in our society the abnormal has become normal. We are so diverse that what is cool is to be uncool. I like that about us. I like that I can wear a me-made shirt to school, and if I get a compliment on it I can say that I made it myself without being poked fun at. 

There are still people who do this, of course there are. This world is (contrary to my instructions) not a faire story, which explains a lot. 

Like that guy in my homeroom who crosses his fingers to make his penny stocks go up and idolizes the USA to the extend of sacrificial worship. I spent a friday afternoon biking around the neighborhood handing out brochures for a knitting class I was doing. 

He asked me the next day how my class was going and I'm not entirely sure how sincere he was. I am not ashamed of my hobbies, but that does not mean I will make it widely known that I sew and knit. That would be handing ammunition to those who wish to mow me down. 

What would be the point in that?

I was reading an article by James Altucher on how to fend off haters, because it seems that I've been getting a lot of those recently. He talked about the 30/30/30 rule. That is, for everything creative and amazing that you do, 1/3 will love you, 1/3 will hate you, and 1/3 won't care. 

For the past half year, since last summer, I've been writing a book. I have a little bit to go before I finish and have begun to wonder whether I will publish it or not. I am proud of my work and there is a lot of great stuff in it. The problem is, it is written about me and real people, people who are still alive and don't have amnesia (although that would be convenient I am not hoping that they will suddenly forget at least two years of their life) 

I like to paint and draw, and when something turns out the way I wanted it to, or a success appears out of a simple doodle (which is most often the case!) I hang it on my wall to remind myself of what I can do. 

Do this often. Keep your successes close to you like you do those whom you love. They are your blanket, your cushion, and bulldozer. Hide your failures away in a closet (like me) so you only have to look at them when you root through cardboard boxes of unwanted clothes. Or keep them just as close to remind yourself of what not to do, and what you can do better.

This may sound like complete poppycock (I've been waiting for a chance to use that word) to you but I'm just starting out. So far the only page views on my blog are from myself. I am confident that eventually someone will find this blog but until then it is still invaluable as a kind of online diary for myself.