Day 200: An Evening with Elizabeth Gilbert

Thursday, April 3
11:45 p.m.

All day I was anticipating a literary event this evening.  I had bought my ticket for an evening with Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, presented by Portland Literary Arts.

I left the office around 6:35 and headed to the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall on Broadway in downtown Portland.  Parking was nuts, so I found a lot above Southpark Restaurant, just behind the Schnitz.  As I walked to the concert hall, I looked around and giggled at the droves of women headed in the same direction.

My friend Susan had saved seats right up front in the lower level (good job Susan!).  When the program began, it was like a mostly all girls rally for their guru leader.  Elizabeth Gilbert approached the stage with an infectious confidence.  She stood tall, dressed in black, with her white-blonde hair curled up on each side in a cute updo. 

She was incredibly and surprisingly funny.  Not just witty here and there, I mean Ellen Degeneres stand-up comedy hilarious.  Rather than read from her accliamed book, she told stories.  Which was refreshing.  First, everyone in the audience already read her book.  So, she did what comes natural – telling remarkable stories, always a blend of inspiring and deliciously funny.  

One of her musings that really resonnated with me was her conversation on ‘the genius’.  She remarked that Western society, today, pin-holds the artist to be a troubled, depressed junkie.  She explained back in ancient times, writers, artists, thinkers were said to have a ‘genius’ working over them, or a genius working over their house (for their family and generations).  This genius was like a guardian angel, muse or elf (hence the word genie comes from genius), and this genius would hold the power of creativity over the artist, so that the artist did not have to struggle with ego.  It was only after that, in western culture, that the artist was then considered the genius, the keeper of his or her own mastery, and this pressure to perform, to create genius, to perpetuate greater works from their last brilliant effort, ultimatley, tormented and plagued the ego. 

These artists could not possibly sustain the intense pressure manifested by the great power of creativity that directs their lives.  And so, you would see many artists and writers stereotypically fall from that pressure, succumbing to deep, dark depression, alcohol or drug addiction and abuse, ultimately leading to untimely and unnatural deaths.  Pick a name out of the many – Hemingway, Plath, van Gogh, Frida Kahlo, Basquiat, Kurt Cobain, Kerouac, Dylan Thomas…

Anyway, she’s making it her stand to denounce the stereotype that artists are junkies or suicidal – that genius is an affliction cursed with addiction.  There are plenty of healthy minded, spirted artists that are balanced, happy and well.  And, further, she expressed her hope in encouraging young people to be creative, to embrace their desires to write, paint, sculpt, or play music. 

At times Gilbert would make connections and references to her best-selling book.  She revealed that she married the ‘Brazilian’ she met at the end of her book.  And, when asked about a Balinese woman she had raised money for to buy her a home, she reported that the woman is doing well, her business is thriving, and she is the self-appointed do-gooder in her village, stepping in to help out with social injustices in her community.  She also gave an update on Richard from Texas, who was on Oprah, he’s back in Texas and as mellow and unbothered as ever.

Finally, Gilbert answered her last question for the evening -  did she ever regret her decision to be childless.  Gilbert delivered a poignant, well-intentioned response about being truthful to the self, about breaking stereotypes where childless women are often considered selfish (where she threw in some wit with her retort – “as if parents are never selfish”), and then recounted statistics of different cultures where women were childless, and how they weren’t considered selfish or wasted beings, but useful, intelligent, strong leaders in their communities.   She was incredibly motivational and uplifting, honest and non-judgemental in her response. 

After her lecture, Susan and I met Kerry at the Heathman next door.  Kerry had been seated in another section with a co-worker.  We couldn’t stop talking about Elizabeth Gilbert.  We sat at the bar and ordered from the happy hour menu.  I just had sparkling water with lime and ceviche.  While we gabbed about the highlights of Gilbert’s talk, she entered the Heathman dining room with the Director of Portland Literary Arts.  We wanted, so badly, to approach her.  But decided against it.  She seemed like the kind of person we’d love to have a martini with and chat about eating, praying and finding love.