What has been on my mind lately? I've become so distanced from the process of writing...I used to have such a reign of what my mind was processing from day to day, recording, remembering. But now, on the brink of this trip, I feel like I have been exercising the privileges of being social, blowing off my own creative work in an effort to spend time with people before leaving them for an indeterminate portion of time. I'm having thoughts, certainly, but somehow they become shattered by the frantic schedule I'm keeping...not having a good sit to sift through them, they become so pummeled by the constant flood of sensations that they are unrecognizable when I come back around to thinking about them, and I forget where I might have left off. What I was headed toward. What emotions I was spun up in when I first pioneered them. Without vigilance regarding these things, it becomes very difficult to trace a thread throughout one's thoughts...to keep a procession, instead of slipping in rank. I follow my thoughts from A to G, but then distance myself from them for a time. When I come back to them, I have a vague semblance of what G might have entailed, but it loses all context and meaning if I don't have the foundations of E and F still firm underneath it. Thus I regress back beyond the last achievement, resting perhaps at C, and must push forth again towards the distances. In the meantime, though, all my motivations have changed, and the G which I may reach is distinctly different from the G which I previously excavated. A troubling business, this 'thought'.
Overall, I'm pleased with how whimsical the world and my mind are when they orbit one another. Things come up which I could not have foreseen; any moment can occasion an explosion of personality or philosophy. It is bothersome, however, to acknowledge that I have no idea what a particular trigger might be or look like. There are such moments when I am caught up in a social circle, and something strikes offhanded, some flash or coincidence on my peripheral vision. I thoughtlessly acknowledge it, but being social requires a constant 'group' presence, a mask, and in pursuit of this I abandon the distinct subjectivity of such glimmers. I may club and drag them back to my tribe, but in doing so I alter them differently than if I were to be alone observing them...I turn them on their head for comedic effect, I dilute them for the masses and exploit some simplicity of what might have been a great concept had I pursued it on my own or in the company of genuine discourse. Occasionally I feel the charlatanry of this process, and I feel somewhat shamed, diminished by it.
Lately I have been running in packs. This is an oddity for me...I'm used to being around a single other person, or perhaps two. The dynamics of these situations are notably dintinct...the broachable topics being drastically different in varying degrees of severity. With a lone companion, one can talk about anything one wants...still the topic will find itself fair game. It may be shot down, evaded for the purposes of comfort, but it will at least find attention and acknowledgment. I miss having an intelligent girlfriend. It's too hard to bring such things up in group discussion, or especially in party-scenarios where one must constantly keep pace with the fluid dance of many partners, many conversations which ideally should be so simple (yet clever!) that others can easily drift in and out of them at their moment's pleasure. I've never been tops at this simplistic cleverness. I am somewhat in awe of those who are~ I lack those razor-sharp, caustic, fervent tendencies...I gravitate, generate, slowly roll into presence like a timpani. I'm beginning to think it has to do with different dispersals of energy...separate and chosen (if unconsciously) types of expression. I am learning from these quick-witted types; I can switch this on if I need to. It feels inauthentic, to me, and I doubt that I could keep it up for long stretches....this conversational sprint. But it is there, a tool at my disposal, and I notice how it alters situations, how it commands. I feel the heat and the power of this clearly incendiary technique. I could not burn like this for long - my hourglass turns - I require respite, shelter. I am mostly sorcerer, but augmented with warrior tendencies at my reserve.
July 14, 2010
June 26, 2010
Some Things I am Excited About
I may not have updated everyone recently...I am quitting the job and traveling for an indeterminate period of time. Holy shit, right? Before you go and worry yourselves, this has been a long time coming...if you've read anything that I've written here, or know me as a person in general, you probably have the sense that 'jobs' and I do not get along in the most idyllic form of camaraderie. We just don't see eye to eye. I dislike being lorded over and told specifically what to do with my time, and they dislike being disobeyed and made a secondary priority amidst the many facets of any given life. Yobs are supposed to be function, to be purpose! Why does Matt dislike us so?
I don't feel the need to explain myself, because I feel that 80% of my friends are sympathetic, working jobs such that they can survive comfortably as opposed to harshly, garnering responsibility...everything we are instructed to revere. At any rate, I find myself excited to take a portion of time off, to stir my life around and agitate the potencies which have settled and lie dormant at present. This is one of my focii as I bound about - to figure out a better mode of life, of reasoning which still supports me but which compromises less of my being and my intended existence/expression in the meantime. This is a monstrous task, but it also has the charm of being an enjoyable one....juggling possible extensions and iterations of myself, finding one which I am most comfortable with but which also allows a more thorough and justified presence of mind, streaming the incantations which I desire most to express.
To travel: here I come. After much deliberation (months) and funding (years) and waiting (decades), I have settled upon a position of "fuck it" regarding my finances as they stand now, and purposefully select the option wherein I discharge all my hard currency into Europe's disastrous economic situation in an effort to bolster it in my own meager way. Also, this will include me receiving many places to stay and transportation to and fro and delicacies heretofore unknown by my domestic palate. Kind of a perk, right? Just doing my best to help out the economy.
Travels as planned: ~3 months. New York, England, France, Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Czech Republic, Italy, Spain. Bouncing here and there, with the exception of Italy which will be a 3 or 4-week stint (more on this in a second). Finally the excitement is eclipsing the nervousness, and I feel like my mind will have entire worlds and perspectives to absorb, and hopefully an equal or greater amount to output based on this input. That's right; much of this is an artistic journey, with the aim of exploding my mind into a million pieces, energy which I hope to use to construct many a work of fiction. Also, there will be sightseeing and friendship-forging and exploration of offbeat paths.
Italy. I am staying at a monastery here for 4 weeks. This will be wonderful, and ideally will give me respite and an opportunity to construct the better portions of a book which I have been playing with ideas of for the last half-year or so. I will have to do a fair amount of work at the monastery, but I feel confident that being in such an atmosphere will allow me to reign in my focus and spend time on my own endeavors. It is, after all, an Art Monastery, basically sieged by paperwork and taken over by a venerable community of artists and flipped into a bed-and-breakfast to pay the bills. There should be other artists of all concentrations working and living there as well, so it will hopefully be an incredibly nourishing and replenishing experience. One point of curiosity is that I will not have a laptop, or at least as presently planned I will not. I've never written anything significant without one; the ability to Ctrl-F and save as different files and research via the internet is always something which I have taken for granted. So, this will be a difficulty which needs to be overcome. Pen and paper are something which I have not tangled with in a long time. One reason I write on a computer is that the keyboard allows me faster documentation of my thoughts, and with my brain behind the stream, that is a very good thing. I'll have to slow my processes down when I'm writing on paper, but hopefully that will be more helpful than hindrance. I imagine my individual thoughts will be more fleshed-out, but I am somewhat worried about losing track of where I was going with the larger themes racing through my head while scribbling away at the minor details. Ah well. I'm sure it will work, one way or another.
Let me know if you'd like me to send you a postcard from somewhere~
I don't feel the need to explain myself, because I feel that 80% of my friends are sympathetic, working jobs such that they can survive comfortably as opposed to harshly, garnering responsibility...everything we are instructed to revere. At any rate, I find myself excited to take a portion of time off, to stir my life around and agitate the potencies which have settled and lie dormant at present. This is one of my focii as I bound about - to figure out a better mode of life, of reasoning which still supports me but which compromises less of my being and my intended existence/expression in the meantime. This is a monstrous task, but it also has the charm of being an enjoyable one....juggling possible extensions and iterations of myself, finding one which I am most comfortable with but which also allows a more thorough and justified presence of mind, streaming the incantations which I desire most to express.
To travel: here I come. After much deliberation (months) and funding (years) and waiting (decades), I have settled upon a position of "fuck it" regarding my finances as they stand now, and purposefully select the option wherein I discharge all my hard currency into Europe's disastrous economic situation in an effort to bolster it in my own meager way. Also, this will include me receiving many places to stay and transportation to and fro and delicacies heretofore unknown by my domestic palate. Kind of a perk, right? Just doing my best to help out the economy.
Travels as planned: ~3 months. New York, England, France, Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Czech Republic, Italy, Spain. Bouncing here and there, with the exception of Italy which will be a 3 or 4-week stint (more on this in a second). Finally the excitement is eclipsing the nervousness, and I feel like my mind will have entire worlds and perspectives to absorb, and hopefully an equal or greater amount to output based on this input. That's right; much of this is an artistic journey, with the aim of exploding my mind into a million pieces, energy which I hope to use to construct many a work of fiction. Also, there will be sightseeing and friendship-forging and exploration of offbeat paths.
Italy. I am staying at a monastery here for 4 weeks. This will be wonderful, and ideally will give me respite and an opportunity to construct the better portions of a book which I have been playing with ideas of for the last half-year or so. I will have to do a fair amount of work at the monastery, but I feel confident that being in such an atmosphere will allow me to reign in my focus and spend time on my own endeavors. It is, after all, an Art Monastery, basically sieged by paperwork and taken over by a venerable community of artists and flipped into a bed-and-breakfast to pay the bills. There should be other artists of all concentrations working and living there as well, so it will hopefully be an incredibly nourishing and replenishing experience. One point of curiosity is that I will not have a laptop, or at least as presently planned I will not. I've never written anything significant without one; the ability to Ctrl-F and save as different files and research via the internet is always something which I have taken for granted. So, this will be a difficulty which needs to be overcome. Pen and paper are something which I have not tangled with in a long time. One reason I write on a computer is that the keyboard allows me faster documentation of my thoughts, and with my brain behind the stream, that is a very good thing. I'll have to slow my processes down when I'm writing on paper, but hopefully that will be more helpful than hindrance. I imagine my individual thoughts will be more fleshed-out, but I am somewhat worried about losing track of where I was going with the larger themes racing through my head while scribbling away at the minor details. Ah well. I'm sure it will work, one way or another.
Let me know if you'd like me to send you a postcard from somewhere~
March 25, 2010
3/25
3/25
how is it that i had coffee this morning, and now my brain decides to go sluggish on me? must be the whiskey. best guess. one would think that the tea here, oolong, would do the job. yet, no. not at all.
where is the merit in appreciation? here i find myself next to a flurry of quick-witted people. i'm not in the mood, myself...not hardly. but since this happens from time to time, i find it worth noting....and the question has popped up in other manifestations, most notably writing and music. art.
what value is there to be found in mere appreciation, aside from production?
must an appreciator tend towards production at some point? or it it enough simply to enjoy, to have no ambitions in particular for themselves? when i started listening to music, when i started reading what i consider to be decent literature, it came about for me that i began to want to produce it, to spin my own wheels and find expression. now, since i am at the point of scribbling here about it, it seems clear that it is becoming ever more important for me.
as i sit here and hear these people, i realize....there is a fine line between well-placed witticisms and obnoxious overstatements, both in word and in personality. there is no accounting for taste, and some people speak because they have to say something, rather than because they have something to say. maybe a little too harsh. at least these kids are eloquent with their wordings....intelligence is denoted, sometimes too enthusiastically but, who is to say what is too much?
the point remains. what becomes of me, of my mind, of my legacy, if i never produce that which i appreciate? doesn't appreciation require an aptitude for the subject matter, and enough of one to be able to separate your own tastes in it from the general stream of possibilities? an area, room to insert personality and idiosyncrasies? and isn't that, when it comes down to it, what really matters in the world of production? can you separate the words aptitude and skill? i suppose you can...but it seems like the path would be much narrower and easy to follow for someone who had a taste, a preexisting identity within the realm of the subject.
so here i am, struggling and giving an attempt at producing. but what if the larger works don't pan? what then? is an attempt which does not manifest in its entirety necessarily a failure? i want to say that it isn't...but perhaps that is more of a security blanket for myself than anything else.
3/28 (continuation)
what of incomplete works? do they have any merit, ideas pursued, if they never morph into their best (and completed, Kant) manifestations? i remember this moment in college, philosophy class, where it was posited that only actions have any value, and anything which remained only in theory or thought had no value in the real world. i remember being incredibly uncomfortable with this idea, especially when applying it to my life, perhaps because i was only a college student at the time and my entire life existed only in theory at that point. what a candle-snuffing restriction, i thought. i personally think that everything is being accounted for, somewhere...which is an interesting concept, because it may feed into the appraisal or rejection of an ego. ego in some circumstances certainly seems justified, such as when the subject has accomplished recognizable and vast compendiums of progress. these people are allowed by society, as a whole, to become....not necessarily arrogant, but perhaps a bit more discerning in terms of what they do and do not choose to acknowledge, to pay attention to. almost everyone agrees that someone who has proven their worth in a certain capacity or function is allowed leniency in other matters, allowed a certain length of artistic distance from the general problems ruling the rest of the equation. workplaces, as well, follow this same pattern, dividing workforce into factions which have unique focii, and then liminal departments or liasons who bridge the gaps between all these diverse fields being concentrated on individually, thereby connecting the gears and allowing oversight, control, and production. so clearly this is a recognizable and respected practice...perhaps it should be allowed those same respects for potential, for people who have not yet manifested but who feel the thunder at their fingertips.
if ego is really composed of these diverse partitions, however, it becomes increasingly hard to stop a person from being forcibly overbearing with their personality....which actually creates elitism, and corrupts the very practices and concepts, poisons the stream from which those future manifestations would spring. the balance is staggering. one must maintain their own lives, and take accountability in full for any collateral damage that acting profoundly, or egotistically, may incur. it would be obnoxious to be egotistical around the clock, but perhaps there are certain times in which it is beneficial and offers a generative effect to be able to disregard certain facets of everyday life.
let's get a fragment more in depth here, since i feel that the last sentence i wrote was a bit ambiguous. i don't think that condoning arrogance in an ego is ever a good thing; i think that to be more of a vice which should be bred out of our systems in early age, and which potentially is by the harsh realities of childhood in a public schooling system (perhaps that was just my being put-in-place experience). rather, what i mean to say is that there are certain times at which it can be largely beneficial, especially regarding the creation of art, to exude confidence in yourself. the burdens of psychology can be quite a weight in some circumstances; we continually second-guess ourselves and question our ability to finish things out which we begin...question our ability to provide or draw the final line. i know i do this. but from time to time, especially in times of heavy work, a well-founded ego can be essential to the production of intelligent art, and additionally intelligent and artistic living. being freed from the burdens of neuroses and worries, grabbing life and creativity by the horns...these two ideas are interchangeable, but often come off to an uninitiated mind as an inadmissible arrogance. living by the sword, however, is a good practice for an artist. boundaries must be drawn, and actions must be taken and backed by a solid degree of confidence in their application.
how is it that i had coffee this morning, and now my brain decides to go sluggish on me? must be the whiskey. best guess. one would think that the tea here, oolong, would do the job. yet, no. not at all.
where is the merit in appreciation? here i find myself next to a flurry of quick-witted people. i'm not in the mood, myself...not hardly. but since this happens from time to time, i find it worth noting....and the question has popped up in other manifestations, most notably writing and music. art.
what value is there to be found in mere appreciation, aside from production?
must an appreciator tend towards production at some point? or it it enough simply to enjoy, to have no ambitions in particular for themselves? when i started listening to music, when i started reading what i consider to be decent literature, it came about for me that i began to want to produce it, to spin my own wheels and find expression. now, since i am at the point of scribbling here about it, it seems clear that it is becoming ever more important for me.
as i sit here and hear these people, i realize....there is a fine line between well-placed witticisms and obnoxious overstatements, both in word and in personality. there is no accounting for taste, and some people speak because they have to say something, rather than because they have something to say. maybe a little too harsh. at least these kids are eloquent with their wordings....intelligence is denoted, sometimes too enthusiastically but, who is to say what is too much?
the point remains. what becomes of me, of my mind, of my legacy, if i never produce that which i appreciate? doesn't appreciation require an aptitude for the subject matter, and enough of one to be able to separate your own tastes in it from the general stream of possibilities? an area, room to insert personality and idiosyncrasies? and isn't that, when it comes down to it, what really matters in the world of production? can you separate the words aptitude and skill? i suppose you can...but it seems like the path would be much narrower and easy to follow for someone who had a taste, a preexisting identity within the realm of the subject.
so here i am, struggling and giving an attempt at producing. but what if the larger works don't pan? what then? is an attempt which does not manifest in its entirety necessarily a failure? i want to say that it isn't...but perhaps that is more of a security blanket for myself than anything else.
3/28 (continuation)
what of incomplete works? do they have any merit, ideas pursued, if they never morph into their best (and completed, Kant) manifestations? i remember this moment in college, philosophy class, where it was posited that only actions have any value, and anything which remained only in theory or thought had no value in the real world. i remember being incredibly uncomfortable with this idea, especially when applying it to my life, perhaps because i was only a college student at the time and my entire life existed only in theory at that point. what a candle-snuffing restriction, i thought. i personally think that everything is being accounted for, somewhere...which is an interesting concept, because it may feed into the appraisal or rejection of an ego. ego in some circumstances certainly seems justified, such as when the subject has accomplished recognizable and vast compendiums of progress. these people are allowed by society, as a whole, to become....not necessarily arrogant, but perhaps a bit more discerning in terms of what they do and do not choose to acknowledge, to pay attention to. almost everyone agrees that someone who has proven their worth in a certain capacity or function is allowed leniency in other matters, allowed a certain length of artistic distance from the general problems ruling the rest of the equation. workplaces, as well, follow this same pattern, dividing workforce into factions which have unique focii, and then liminal departments or liasons who bridge the gaps between all these diverse fields being concentrated on individually, thereby connecting the gears and allowing oversight, control, and production. so clearly this is a recognizable and respected practice...perhaps it should be allowed those same respects for potential, for people who have not yet manifested but who feel the thunder at their fingertips.
if ego is really composed of these diverse partitions, however, it becomes increasingly hard to stop a person from being forcibly overbearing with their personality....which actually creates elitism, and corrupts the very practices and concepts, poisons the stream from which those future manifestations would spring. the balance is staggering. one must maintain their own lives, and take accountability in full for any collateral damage that acting profoundly, or egotistically, may incur. it would be obnoxious to be egotistical around the clock, but perhaps there are certain times in which it is beneficial and offers a generative effect to be able to disregard certain facets of everyday life.
let's get a fragment more in depth here, since i feel that the last sentence i wrote was a bit ambiguous. i don't think that condoning arrogance in an ego is ever a good thing; i think that to be more of a vice which should be bred out of our systems in early age, and which potentially is by the harsh realities of childhood in a public schooling system (perhaps that was just my being put-in-place experience). rather, what i mean to say is that there are certain times at which it can be largely beneficial, especially regarding the creation of art, to exude confidence in yourself. the burdens of psychology can be quite a weight in some circumstances; we continually second-guess ourselves and question our ability to finish things out which we begin...question our ability to provide or draw the final line. i know i do this. but from time to time, especially in times of heavy work, a well-founded ego can be essential to the production of intelligent art, and additionally intelligent and artistic living. being freed from the burdens of neuroses and worries, grabbing life and creativity by the horns...these two ideas are interchangeable, but often come off to an uninitiated mind as an inadmissible arrogance. living by the sword, however, is a good practice for an artist. boundaries must be drawn, and actions must be taken and backed by a solid degree of confidence in their application.
January 23, 2010
A Meditation
Leadership. A pivotal concept in our society, and yet something which so much of our population lacks a propensity for. Even for my own part, I acknowledge that I have gone so far as to actually aim for a lack of responsibility (which could be said to be part and parcel with leadership – for the crux of the matter is the ability to commit to decisions instead of constantly fluctuating) for a good portion of my life. I'm not sure where that lackadaisical desire comes from, but certainly I wanted no part of 'hard work' at the time, no semblance of having to own up to anything which I might have done had I more resolve.
Instead, I felt the need to resign myself to a submissive position. Over time, both in and beyond the workplace, I still feel this urgency to appeal to others, to seek guidance in their words or their actions. I want them firstly to validate me, to give me a purpose and to deal me a set of tasks. Secondarily I want acknowledgment, a rapport with 'superiors' or 'equals' which denotes a mutual respect for each others' functions and responsibilities. Admittedly and thankfully, this propensity no longer commands a large percentile of my working mind-state. I have found motivation – by degrees – within myself, and can utilize these newfound personal desires to craft my time and activities accordingly without outside input or approval. I now encompass my own approval in the best of times, and this is a perspective to be cherished like one's child – which, on some level, it is.
Even still, however, I find myself appealing to others for their input upon myself and my desires. I find this to be a hard habit, or perhaps vice, to exorcise from personal routine. The rut is that I at once acknowledge the rule as being 'to each his own', especially in matters of personal and artistic investment, while still primarily being domesticated by the need for a group acceptance, an outside acknowledgment of my struggles and subsequent trophies. Of what import are trophies, without any organization to put stock in them?
Thus it comes down to the invisible – potentially imagined – metrics of personal and [humanitarian] development. Just as it is with friends who have not been seen for a length of time (thus seeming much changed, based upon the collective number of small changes built up into a broader observation or scheme), so too it is difficult to measure the variables of our mind – that companion which we can never be quite rid of – be they positive or negative, and to what degree they thrive or suffer. There is no way to step 'outside' of ourselves for an accurate portrait, and so we feel that we must rely on the approvals or disapprovals of those who know us best.
This is a flawed system for a variety of reasons. Firstly, people generally exhibit a bias towards reliability: keeping things just as they are. This is not much to the discredit of humanity, for this assumption creates more manageable mental maps and compasses for us as we navigate through the polarities of the world. Counting on things, including people, to remain the same gives us an advantageous ability to be predictive in future scenarios involving known elements. But for this reason, our friends might be discounted as reliable indicators of our own progress or stagnation. To excel beyond the scope of what you previously had been counted on being may conspire in the minds of those who 'knew' you as a negative trait, as a regression from what they previously knew, since now they cannot be sure of what they know. In all matters, perspective is at the heart of valence. [Additionally] to the point, an inquiry can be made as to whether or not we all experience some degree of schadenfreude, for to see another trapped in a state of general inertia regarding some intangible progression of mind and life certainly occasions a mirroring, a validation of one's own self as being in some way superior, somehow further along or in motion. Ego both feeds and starves on distinctions, on partisanship.
Secondly, if we can throw out the whole 'nobody can ever really know anybody else' idea which is so touted in certain circles, I at least feel confident stating that the only reliable appraisal that can be obtained from another person (when we are confine ourselves to the field of artistic developments) would have to come from someone whom is also a student in the same field of expression, and for accuracy of judgment it would have to be someone who was quantifiably superior to you and – as a final caveat – was also familiar with the progress or detriment of your accomplishments to date. To wit, the only worthwhile yardstick for accomplishment is a teacher. This is not to say that one cannot trust or respect the opinions of anyone else, but rather to say that alternative ideas about yourself or your progress are less likely to be accurate in their methods of distinction and divination, or may be more about the work in itself than about its reflections upon you as a unique force of humanity.
I bring these previous points up because true leadership, in its most meritorious sense as I see it, involves a good degree of humility. To lead is to make decisions, and if the input placed into those decisions is fabricated or misleading then it may become negatively repercussive. To be sure there will be repercussions regardless of the path chosen, but a real decision should be incisive: cut to the core of the matter. It should be expansive in its scope; agreeable in as many capacities as possible to as many different components as possible, but when it comes down to bolts it must also be willing to make sacrifices as necessary for its most genuine realization.
The most pertinent decisions which I find myself making these days are the decisions regarding the expenditure of my time. When I say, 'my time', I must also be candid in explaining that this does not only apply to my 'personal time', because in effect – and what many people seem poised to miss – is that all of my time consists of a conscious decision on my part regarding how it is being used. We may feel resigned to certain places or actions which typically orbit around our jobs or our scholastic endeavors, but if you investigate the scope at play within them you realize the frightening degree of freedom which we are in possession of at any given moment of our lives. This realization is the beginning of leadership; it is the most fundamental of all the structural pillars supporting initiative.
What I come to realize more and more these days is that most of the self-governing and actuated principles that my mind operates upon are beginning to lean further and further away from what my 'job' entails; at this point I would consider myself downright tilted. It may be that I am merely disconsolate about daily repetition of activities, etc., but if the feeling is inspected more closely it allows me to see specifically where the conflicts exist. The principle conflict, for my own part, is a snowballing desire to create....perhaps not even tangibly, but to in every way exist and think and, most specifically, to write creatively. To seek out the chaotic, dynamic mechanisms in my mind, to nourish them in whatever ways they crave, and to express and record the experience. I'm not even certain, at this point, that writing will be the medium of choice, but currently I feel that it allows me the widest range of expression and versatility as I already have mental brushes and palettes painstakingly constructed for this canvas. And some really nice pens.
I cannot say with any certainty what this feeling will lead to. But I bring it up in order to directly address a reef which any seafaring motions towards creative independence must necessarily come to, under threat of being foundered...the ability to actively and consciously engage decisions, and to forge ownership – steeled, individual validity – regarding your terms with them. By 'decisions', I don't mean to imply that I am discussing book plots, or pseudonyms, or anything one typically makes creative decisions about. Well, perhaps books to a degree, in my particular case. Instead, however, I mean to associate fragile, momentary decisions with the timeless quality of leadership, and all the connotations which you may bring to the word...which is what I began scribbling about today in the first place.
For some unknown but rooted reason, I seem to have a difficult time of creativity when I set to it in the moment. This is, of course, a world apart from creativity in theory, when ideas flow like wine. Virginia Woolf - “One line placed on the canvas committed her to innumerable risks, to frequent and irrevocable decisions. All that in idea seemed simple became in practice immediately complex; as the waves shape themselves symmetrically from the cliff top, but to the swimmer among them are divided by steep gulfs, and foaming crests. Still the risk must be run; the mark made.” If you have tried to create something distinctive, then I'm sure that you too share some knowledge of this anxiety among the front lines of creative forces. This would be entirely tolerable, if it weren't for the fact that it constantly forces you to question yourself. It finds opportunities in which to communicate to you that you are in uncharted territories and that you don't know how to do everything, or even what anything necessarily is. In short, creativity would not be itself if it didn't force you immediately out of your comfort zone.
My instincts until just recently have been to immediately seek reassurance....to stop, to read, to talk to someone safe, to locate comfort quickly. This is a faulty approach, and it lacks the most critical element of success in such matters: personal leadership. Without the strength contained in this engine, your focus will flag, waver, and fail. If you've already sat down to independent creation and accomplished any small part of it, then most likely you are not in terrible shape; no need to panic, you are at least not amongst those who willingly let themselves be entertained into oblivion. Leadership is a muscle, however, and to form resolve and concentrated effort takes a lengthy period of breaking and building.
What must be done is to keep pushing against those waves, because like a coastal tide or reef structure, they only bar your way for a short distance. Once you've navigated the labyrinth of obstacles (which will likely be different each time) and reached a calm focus, real progress can be made, real distance towards the goal. You will still experience catastrophic storms and perils while out at sea, but they will seem more natural, more intentional; you will already be committed to the journey and they will truly seem like challenges which can be overcome, which momentum will push you forward through. Perspective changes significantly when there is no shore in sight. When they are finished, driven through with fortitude, you can again drift along your creative flow; you will have nothing to fight against and the only facet you will need to hold steady to is your orientation amidst the vast horizon of possibilities.
Navigation, however, is a more compound concept than it would seem; nothing that I know of is less straightforward. If you know precisely where you want to end up, then you will have an easier time of it...but as a sacrifice, in a manner of speaking, the journey will have fewer crisis points, less opportunities to discover yourself and your capabilities along the way. For my own part, these crises have been some of the more worthwhile reasons for me to continue writing, even if it doesn't end up amounting to a finished work. To hammer something out, to imbue it with your own personal architecture, to seal it with your fingerprint as a genuine statement about your or the world as you perceive it...this is the real reason to commit to your own leadership, to trust yourself to bear a torch through the darkness and come out somewhere meaningful and symbolic. If you only have profit in mind when you enter into the creative seas, then you might as well resign yourself to being a publisher or a broker instead, for there is no reason, no compulsion for you to make the first or last strokes.
The real reason to create, the most genuine incarnation insofar as I can envision it, is not the moment of completion but rather these smaller victories. A finished work would be nice, but complete realization of my ideals – which also involved defining those ideals to myself in full – is a luxury which I do not expect to achieve anytime soon. For this reason, I don't have a final destination in mind...rather I wander, sometimes aimlessly, sometimes with intense focus, until I experience something like an 'Aha!' moment. This experience is something you are familiar with; it happens in just about every facet of life when something is illuminated to the full extent of your understanding – or in lieu of that, your complete awe. This is the reason to create, and the only reason to share creation is to attempt to gift this intimate moment to others. Sometimes entire books or companies are dedicated to a single, potent moment of thought, which was of such devastating importance to the thinker that it had to be committed to...nothing they had experienced had ever seemed more real, more important to contribute. These moments are the basis of artistic navigation, and they compose the greater part of personal leadership...following the constellations that these individual points compose, as you drift along them through the passage of your life, is the only guide for genuine expression.
Ultimately, if you want to own your work and your life, you have to trust in yourself as a metric. It doesn't matter if you want to lead many people, or just yourself in your personal endeavors...good leadership requires that you have a standard for guidance, that you have a path to follow, even if you may lose sight of it for long lapses of time. This naturally happens when motion is involved. To obtain the focus that is necessary to achieve, you have to have anchors, fixed points upon which your can locate yourself and subsequently pivot off. These points are impossible not to notice; they are impossible to avoid unless you remain stagnant and dig into your routines too fastidiously....what matters is what you make of them, and whether or not you are able to hold them within your vision after they have passed. You might also worry that some fascinations are implanted in you surreptitiously by other people, somehow transferred, or that you have somehow stolen them – but if your interest is genuine, you will know it. The hollow resonance of thieved passions, the faint boredom that you experience when you engage with them is important to distinguish; you must develop a hammer to test and destroy such things in order to be the truest incarnation of yourself possible. The focus and the energy inherent in genuine passions, however, is impossible to mimic. It will define your choices along every step of the way, and illuminate all paths you have yet to travel.
Instead, I felt the need to resign myself to a submissive position. Over time, both in and beyond the workplace, I still feel this urgency to appeal to others, to seek guidance in their words or their actions. I want them firstly to validate me, to give me a purpose and to deal me a set of tasks. Secondarily I want acknowledgment, a rapport with 'superiors' or 'equals' which denotes a mutual respect for each others' functions and responsibilities. Admittedly and thankfully, this propensity no longer commands a large percentile of my working mind-state. I have found motivation – by degrees – within myself, and can utilize these newfound personal desires to craft my time and activities accordingly without outside input or approval. I now encompass my own approval in the best of times, and this is a perspective to be cherished like one's child – which, on some level, it is.
Even still, however, I find myself appealing to others for their input upon myself and my desires. I find this to be a hard habit, or perhaps vice, to exorcise from personal routine. The rut is that I at once acknowledge the rule as being 'to each his own', especially in matters of personal and artistic investment, while still primarily being domesticated by the need for a group acceptance, an outside acknowledgment of my struggles and subsequent trophies. Of what import are trophies, without any organization to put stock in them?
Thus it comes down to the invisible – potentially imagined – metrics of personal and [humanitarian] development. Just as it is with friends who have not been seen for a length of time (thus seeming much changed, based upon the collective number of small changes built up into a broader observation or scheme), so too it is difficult to measure the variables of our mind – that companion which we can never be quite rid of – be they positive or negative, and to what degree they thrive or suffer. There is no way to step 'outside' of ourselves for an accurate portrait, and so we feel that we must rely on the approvals or disapprovals of those who know us best.
This is a flawed system for a variety of reasons. Firstly, people generally exhibit a bias towards reliability: keeping things just as they are. This is not much to the discredit of humanity, for this assumption creates more manageable mental maps and compasses for us as we navigate through the polarities of the world. Counting on things, including people, to remain the same gives us an advantageous ability to be predictive in future scenarios involving known elements. But for this reason, our friends might be discounted as reliable indicators of our own progress or stagnation. To excel beyond the scope of what you previously had been counted on being may conspire in the minds of those who 'knew' you as a negative trait, as a regression from what they previously knew, since now they cannot be sure of what they know. In all matters, perspective is at the heart of valence. [Additionally] to the point, an inquiry can be made as to whether or not we all experience some degree of schadenfreude, for to see another trapped in a state of general inertia regarding some intangible progression of mind and life certainly occasions a mirroring, a validation of one's own self as being in some way superior, somehow further along or in motion. Ego both feeds and starves on distinctions, on partisanship.
Secondly, if we can throw out the whole 'nobody can ever really know anybody else' idea which is so touted in certain circles, I at least feel confident stating that the only reliable appraisal that can be obtained from another person (when we are confine ourselves to the field of artistic developments) would have to come from someone whom is also a student in the same field of expression, and for accuracy of judgment it would have to be someone who was quantifiably superior to you and – as a final caveat – was also familiar with the progress or detriment of your accomplishments to date. To wit, the only worthwhile yardstick for accomplishment is a teacher. This is not to say that one cannot trust or respect the opinions of anyone else, but rather to say that alternative ideas about yourself or your progress are less likely to be accurate in their methods of distinction and divination, or may be more about the work in itself than about its reflections upon you as a unique force of humanity.
I bring these previous points up because true leadership, in its most meritorious sense as I see it, involves a good degree of humility. To lead is to make decisions, and if the input placed into those decisions is fabricated or misleading then it may become negatively repercussive. To be sure there will be repercussions regardless of the path chosen, but a real decision should be incisive: cut to the core of the matter. It should be expansive in its scope; agreeable in as many capacities as possible to as many different components as possible, but when it comes down to bolts it must also be willing to make sacrifices as necessary for its most genuine realization.
The most pertinent decisions which I find myself making these days are the decisions regarding the expenditure of my time. When I say, 'my time', I must also be candid in explaining that this does not only apply to my 'personal time', because in effect – and what many people seem poised to miss – is that all of my time consists of a conscious decision on my part regarding how it is being used. We may feel resigned to certain places or actions which typically orbit around our jobs or our scholastic endeavors, but if you investigate the scope at play within them you realize the frightening degree of freedom which we are in possession of at any given moment of our lives. This realization is the beginning of leadership; it is the most fundamental of all the structural pillars supporting initiative.
What I come to realize more and more these days is that most of the self-governing and actuated principles that my mind operates upon are beginning to lean further and further away from what my 'job' entails; at this point I would consider myself downright tilted. It may be that I am merely disconsolate about daily repetition of activities, etc., but if the feeling is inspected more closely it allows me to see specifically where the conflicts exist. The principle conflict, for my own part, is a snowballing desire to create....perhaps not even tangibly, but to in every way exist and think and, most specifically, to write creatively. To seek out the chaotic, dynamic mechanisms in my mind, to nourish them in whatever ways they crave, and to express and record the experience. I'm not even certain, at this point, that writing will be the medium of choice, but currently I feel that it allows me the widest range of expression and versatility as I already have mental brushes and palettes painstakingly constructed for this canvas. And some really nice pens.
I cannot say with any certainty what this feeling will lead to. But I bring it up in order to directly address a reef which any seafaring motions towards creative independence must necessarily come to, under threat of being foundered...the ability to actively and consciously engage decisions, and to forge ownership – steeled, individual validity – regarding your terms with them. By 'decisions', I don't mean to imply that I am discussing book plots, or pseudonyms, or anything one typically makes creative decisions about. Well, perhaps books to a degree, in my particular case. Instead, however, I mean to associate fragile, momentary decisions with the timeless quality of leadership, and all the connotations which you may bring to the word...which is what I began scribbling about today in the first place.
For some unknown but rooted reason, I seem to have a difficult time of creativity when I set to it in the moment. This is, of course, a world apart from creativity in theory, when ideas flow like wine. Virginia Woolf - “One line placed on the canvas committed her to innumerable risks, to frequent and irrevocable decisions. All that in idea seemed simple became in practice immediately complex; as the waves shape themselves symmetrically from the cliff top, but to the swimmer among them are divided by steep gulfs, and foaming crests. Still the risk must be run; the mark made.” If you have tried to create something distinctive, then I'm sure that you too share some knowledge of this anxiety among the front lines of creative forces. This would be entirely tolerable, if it weren't for the fact that it constantly forces you to question yourself. It finds opportunities in which to communicate to you that you are in uncharted territories and that you don't know how to do everything, or even what anything necessarily is. In short, creativity would not be itself if it didn't force you immediately out of your comfort zone.
My instincts until just recently have been to immediately seek reassurance....to stop, to read, to talk to someone safe, to locate comfort quickly. This is a faulty approach, and it lacks the most critical element of success in such matters: personal leadership. Without the strength contained in this engine, your focus will flag, waver, and fail. If you've already sat down to independent creation and accomplished any small part of it, then most likely you are not in terrible shape; no need to panic, you are at least not amongst those who willingly let themselves be entertained into oblivion. Leadership is a muscle, however, and to form resolve and concentrated effort takes a lengthy period of breaking and building.
What must be done is to keep pushing against those waves, because like a coastal tide or reef structure, they only bar your way for a short distance. Once you've navigated the labyrinth of obstacles (which will likely be different each time) and reached a calm focus, real progress can be made, real distance towards the goal. You will still experience catastrophic storms and perils while out at sea, but they will seem more natural, more intentional; you will already be committed to the journey and they will truly seem like challenges which can be overcome, which momentum will push you forward through. Perspective changes significantly when there is no shore in sight. When they are finished, driven through with fortitude, you can again drift along your creative flow; you will have nothing to fight against and the only facet you will need to hold steady to is your orientation amidst the vast horizon of possibilities.
Navigation, however, is a more compound concept than it would seem; nothing that I know of is less straightforward. If you know precisely where you want to end up, then you will have an easier time of it...but as a sacrifice, in a manner of speaking, the journey will have fewer crisis points, less opportunities to discover yourself and your capabilities along the way. For my own part, these crises have been some of the more worthwhile reasons for me to continue writing, even if it doesn't end up amounting to a finished work. To hammer something out, to imbue it with your own personal architecture, to seal it with your fingerprint as a genuine statement about your or the world as you perceive it...this is the real reason to commit to your own leadership, to trust yourself to bear a torch through the darkness and come out somewhere meaningful and symbolic. If you only have profit in mind when you enter into the creative seas, then you might as well resign yourself to being a publisher or a broker instead, for there is no reason, no compulsion for you to make the first or last strokes.
The real reason to create, the most genuine incarnation insofar as I can envision it, is not the moment of completion but rather these smaller victories. A finished work would be nice, but complete realization of my ideals – which also involved defining those ideals to myself in full – is a luxury which I do not expect to achieve anytime soon. For this reason, I don't have a final destination in mind...rather I wander, sometimes aimlessly, sometimes with intense focus, until I experience something like an 'Aha!' moment. This experience is something you are familiar with; it happens in just about every facet of life when something is illuminated to the full extent of your understanding – or in lieu of that, your complete awe. This is the reason to create, and the only reason to share creation is to attempt to gift this intimate moment to others. Sometimes entire books or companies are dedicated to a single, potent moment of thought, which was of such devastating importance to the thinker that it had to be committed to...nothing they had experienced had ever seemed more real, more important to contribute. These moments are the basis of artistic navigation, and they compose the greater part of personal leadership...following the constellations that these individual points compose, as you drift along them through the passage of your life, is the only guide for genuine expression.
Ultimately, if you want to own your work and your life, you have to trust in yourself as a metric. It doesn't matter if you want to lead many people, or just yourself in your personal endeavors...good leadership requires that you have a standard for guidance, that you have a path to follow, even if you may lose sight of it for long lapses of time. This naturally happens when motion is involved. To obtain the focus that is necessary to achieve, you have to have anchors, fixed points upon which your can locate yourself and subsequently pivot off. These points are impossible not to notice; they are impossible to avoid unless you remain stagnant and dig into your routines too fastidiously....what matters is what you make of them, and whether or not you are able to hold them within your vision after they have passed. You might also worry that some fascinations are implanted in you surreptitiously by other people, somehow transferred, or that you have somehow stolen them – but if your interest is genuine, you will know it. The hollow resonance of thieved passions, the faint boredom that you experience when you engage with them is important to distinguish; you must develop a hammer to test and destroy such things in order to be the truest incarnation of yourself possible. The focus and the energy inherent in genuine passions, however, is impossible to mimic. It will define your choices along every step of the way, and illuminate all paths you have yet to travel.
November 5, 2009
post-processing
i had an interesting experience the other day...i was sitting at my desk, minding my own business, typing away at something or other (or perhaps internetting, as i am also prone to do), and a flash of recognition erupted into me. it wasn't deja-vu, or anything of the sort...i had been sitting next to a wall (a rather thin one, it should be noted), and i picked up on a piece of the conversation in the next room. now, i hear conversations from the guys next door frequently; at least once every day. they're crazy characters, sometimes bursting into song in the middle of their little office. but i have learned to completely tune them out when i'm doing my own thing, so it's rare that i actually pay attention to anything that they are saying. the small fragment that i caught, however, happened to be about myself....not directly, but rather it was about the company that i work at. it wasn't derogatory, it wasn't praise; it was just a passive comment slid into one angle of a joke. but where it gets weird is....i wasn't actually listening to them when they said it.
despite the phalanx of distractions that surround me at any given moment, and despite the fact that i was engrossed in many other things, my senses reached down into me, like a hand, and pulled me up into the cool waters of the present moment. this means, if i understand correctly, that my mind actually has reserve storage for everything which is currently happening. and i think that this concept is amazing. despite the reality that you may not be paying attention - in fact you may be completely distracted - you are still caching information on some level unknown to your conscious mind.
i know for a fact that i didn't hear them talking as it happened....i just wasn't listening. simple fact. but, after the actual conversation had occurred, my mind decided to grind it through its economizing machine, just to see if any of it were useful to me. so it stored all these impressions that i was unaware of, packaged them up in some obscure encryption to keep them from me, and sorted them neatly into piles of relevance. beginning of a joke: irrelevant. to the bin with it. vocal inflections: irrelevant. binned. company name: relevant! ring-ring! hallo! what is this that we have here? and then my mind, sufficiently prompted, investigated the situation. it retracted, uncrumpled papers from the bin; in fact i was able to recall the joke in its entirety with no problems whatsoever. this was very odd; i'm certain all of this happened in the snapping of fingers, but still i regarded the ensuing sensation with some degree of scrutiny, and found my recognition of the thing to have happened definitively after the reality had lapsed.
and holy shit! how amazing is that?
this is encouraging, enlivening, for a number of reasons. i've always personally been fascinated with the mind...seeking ways to understand how it makes sense of this chaos that we label our world (Recursive with a capital, i know), and constantly prodding/asking it for insight into its inner-workings. rarely does it give any non-cryptic answers, but every once in a while i am present while it slips up, which offers a whole new perspective on matters. this is one such instance. i wonder how long such information is stored? is it possible that it is still stored outside of us, lingering in the atmosphere, and an uber-short timeframe is the key to being able to still disentangle it from all the other static which spins its wheels perpetually, replacing and realigning? is this something which you could train your mind to perform better and better, with more regularity, until you were able to recall, to access this liminal brain-space, consciously and actively? i could use some extra brain-bank, personally...i always describe my mental function to people as 'a little different', in that i have astounding recall for minute detail, but only once i have a serious trigger with which to work, a hook to hang my reminiscence.
despite the phalanx of distractions that surround me at any given moment, and despite the fact that i was engrossed in many other things, my senses reached down into me, like a hand, and pulled me up into the cool waters of the present moment. this means, if i understand correctly, that my mind actually has reserve storage for everything which is currently happening. and i think that this concept is amazing. despite the reality that you may not be paying attention - in fact you may be completely distracted - you are still caching information on some level unknown to your conscious mind.
i know for a fact that i didn't hear them talking as it happened....i just wasn't listening. simple fact. but, after the actual conversation had occurred, my mind decided to grind it through its economizing machine, just to see if any of it were useful to me. so it stored all these impressions that i was unaware of, packaged them up in some obscure encryption to keep them from me, and sorted them neatly into piles of relevance. beginning of a joke: irrelevant. to the bin with it. vocal inflections: irrelevant. binned. company name: relevant! ring-ring! hallo! what is this that we have here? and then my mind, sufficiently prompted, investigated the situation. it retracted, uncrumpled papers from the bin; in fact i was able to recall the joke in its entirety with no problems whatsoever. this was very odd; i'm certain all of this happened in the snapping of fingers, but still i regarded the ensuing sensation with some degree of scrutiny, and found my recognition of the thing to have happened definitively after the reality had lapsed.
and holy shit! how amazing is that?
this is encouraging, enlivening, for a number of reasons. i've always personally been fascinated with the mind...seeking ways to understand how it makes sense of this chaos that we label our world (Recursive with a capital, i know), and constantly prodding/asking it for insight into its inner-workings. rarely does it give any non-cryptic answers, but every once in a while i am present while it slips up, which offers a whole new perspective on matters. this is one such instance. i wonder how long such information is stored? is it possible that it is still stored outside of us, lingering in the atmosphere, and an uber-short timeframe is the key to being able to still disentangle it from all the other static which spins its wheels perpetually, replacing and realigning? is this something which you could train your mind to perform better and better, with more regularity, until you were able to recall, to access this liminal brain-space, consciously and actively? i could use some extra brain-bank, personally...i always describe my mental function to people as 'a little different', in that i have astounding recall for minute detail, but only once i have a serious trigger with which to work, a hook to hang my reminiscence.
October 20, 2009
when you're strange
it is entirely remarkable how we are constantly surrounded by strangers. do you have those words, sometimes, where you always miss the same letter when typing a word, and must go back in order to fix it? strangers is one such word for me; it always ends up 'stanger'. which is not so much even a word; i checked just now. regardless. looking around, i find an overwhelming feeling, a filling-up, with the sheer force of strangeness around me. i don't know any of these people, yet we share such a base commonality that i am able to find comfort in their presence, and perhaps comfort too in that they, for the most part, do not know each other....i am not the odd mind out; i am just as curvy of a jigsaw-piece as all of them, as far as any distinct one is concerned.
they are all focused on different tasks, different projects; all have different thoughts rifling through their minds even just now. there are some moments which rob us of this individuality...say for instance that a red-mortar firecracker goes off in this coffee nook right now. bang! everyone flinches, every mind is void and catches pace with the circumstances and general confusion just as quickly as the others, for the most part. then we are together, somehow. we have all had the same experience, at the same time, and while we may not consciously acknowledge it we have been bonded to these people to a degree; we have been the same as them through circumstance, they have shared in ourselves. on larger scales, this is school spirit, this is patriotism, this is the flexing and uncording of the various muscles of the humanities.
but i feel comfortable around all these people, despite the concrete reality that no firework has bound our shared existence. it seems to be bound on other levels, less immediate and less discernible. i am somewhat surprised to find this comfort within me....not shocked, necessarily, as it has been building, rumbling around, for as long as i can remember, but at least a little surprised to find the ease with which i regard them. just like anybody i have clasped onto my fair share of social anxieties throughout my youth, but at some point they were hammered at by something...good...the human spirit perhaps, and partaking in the realm of it...and ever since then my anxieties (at least, the social ones) have been crumbling, like a cracked and eroding reservoir wall, spilling more positivity and more goodwill as time continues to batter away at it. for all the uncertainty that i could choose to see in this room, knowing that in any human lie sparks and clashes between dignified Ubermensch and primal beast, instead i am experiencing an outpouring of kinship and warm curiosity.
it is funny how difficult it sometimes seems to meet people, such as when you move to a new city. i'm certain, at this moment, that all it really takes is patience, and then just the tiniest pinch of the outgoing archetype to be summoned within you. looking around, i barely recognize anybody...maybe a face of two that i have seen elsewhere, but nothing solid enough for confirmation. but i recognize that other people, like myself, run in general patterns. you are bound to meet people time after time, despite the randomness of the city, because people seem to be creatures of habit. unless you never venture outside the confines of your walls, you will of course see the same people again and again...perhaps not every day, perhaps not always in the same places...but it will happen, and the only way to not take advantage of that situation is to stay silent, antisocial. or to be looking too....specifically.
the problem, i believe, if there is one, is a tendency to not see people. normally, i take so little notice of other people, other than to regard their general occupation of space and time (and perhaps attractiveness, natch). all these people are incredible, multifaceted minds, flexing and fluxing in ways i cannot even begin to comprehend, but until i make some recognizable contact i resign them to one dimension, just a flat-frame appearance, and leave them at that. i feel bad about this, but really, what more are we to do? i could spend my entire life trying to meet everyone that i could, and still not be able to tackle more than just my own state (or perhaps one more at an extreme best!) additionally, meeting people would become meaningless; i would be saturated with information and it would leak out of my brain faster than 9th grade geometry class. so, it is reasonable to only expect to meet so many people...it just seems a shame, with all the interesting things going on in the minds of the people, all the projects and emotions and expressions which remain intriguingly and perplexingly bottled to me.
on the upside, as a writer, i am beginning to pick up more on the realities and expressions of the people whom i do know, and even beyond that beginning to culture an ability to observe someone whom i do not know and divine something core of them (or perhaps just my own imaginings, but that will do fine for myself and my work). it is incredibly enriching and endlessly interesting, to the point where i must draw a solid line between the observing and the recording, just to ensure that i get something tangible completed instead of whiling away in a fog of thoughts and inspirations that might slip into dizzied memory without a measure of ink.
i am basically never bored anymore.
they are all focused on different tasks, different projects; all have different thoughts rifling through their minds even just now. there are some moments which rob us of this individuality...say for instance that a red-mortar firecracker goes off in this coffee nook right now. bang! everyone flinches, every mind is void and catches pace with the circumstances and general confusion just as quickly as the others, for the most part. then we are together, somehow. we have all had the same experience, at the same time, and while we may not consciously acknowledge it we have been bonded to these people to a degree; we have been the same as them through circumstance, they have shared in ourselves. on larger scales, this is school spirit, this is patriotism, this is the flexing and uncording of the various muscles of the humanities.
but i feel comfortable around all these people, despite the concrete reality that no firework has bound our shared existence. it seems to be bound on other levels, less immediate and less discernible. i am somewhat surprised to find this comfort within me....not shocked, necessarily, as it has been building, rumbling around, for as long as i can remember, but at least a little surprised to find the ease with which i regard them. just like anybody i have clasped onto my fair share of social anxieties throughout my youth, but at some point they were hammered at by something...good...the human spirit perhaps, and partaking in the realm of it...and ever since then my anxieties (at least, the social ones) have been crumbling, like a cracked and eroding reservoir wall, spilling more positivity and more goodwill as time continues to batter away at it. for all the uncertainty that i could choose to see in this room, knowing that in any human lie sparks and clashes between dignified Ubermensch and primal beast, instead i am experiencing an outpouring of kinship and warm curiosity.
it is funny how difficult it sometimes seems to meet people, such as when you move to a new city. i'm certain, at this moment, that all it really takes is patience, and then just the tiniest pinch of the outgoing archetype to be summoned within you. looking around, i barely recognize anybody...maybe a face of two that i have seen elsewhere, but nothing solid enough for confirmation. but i recognize that other people, like myself, run in general patterns. you are bound to meet people time after time, despite the randomness of the city, because people seem to be creatures of habit. unless you never venture outside the confines of your walls, you will of course see the same people again and again...perhaps not every day, perhaps not always in the same places...but it will happen, and the only way to not take advantage of that situation is to stay silent, antisocial. or to be looking too....specifically.
the problem, i believe, if there is one, is a tendency to not see people. normally, i take so little notice of other people, other than to regard their general occupation of space and time (and perhaps attractiveness, natch). all these people are incredible, multifaceted minds, flexing and fluxing in ways i cannot even begin to comprehend, but until i make some recognizable contact i resign them to one dimension, just a flat-frame appearance, and leave them at that. i feel bad about this, but really, what more are we to do? i could spend my entire life trying to meet everyone that i could, and still not be able to tackle more than just my own state (or perhaps one more at an extreme best!) additionally, meeting people would become meaningless; i would be saturated with information and it would leak out of my brain faster than 9th grade geometry class. so, it is reasonable to only expect to meet so many people...it just seems a shame, with all the interesting things going on in the minds of the people, all the projects and emotions and expressions which remain intriguingly and perplexingly bottled to me.
on the upside, as a writer, i am beginning to pick up more on the realities and expressions of the people whom i do know, and even beyond that beginning to culture an ability to observe someone whom i do not know and divine something core of them (or perhaps just my own imaginings, but that will do fine for myself and my work). it is incredibly enriching and endlessly interesting, to the point where i must draw a solid line between the observing and the recording, just to ensure that i get something tangible completed instead of whiling away in a fog of thoughts and inspirations that might slip into dizzied memory without a measure of ink.
i am basically never bored anymore.
September 12, 2009
wow
it has been a seriously long passage of time since i have pasted up any words on this thing. a lot has happened; details are unimportant and unwarranted; more of a telephone thing anyway. so, what has been on my mind of late?
how long has it been since you have taken a lengthy, analytical and prognostic look at your life? are we settling for the concerns that we have now, which become so overwhelming and eclipse the backgrounds behind them? i feel relatively complacent of late, which always pings as a red-flag status for me once i realize that it has been going on. it's summertime, and the living is easy...money that was made is now spent. weekends, so longed for and anticipated, are shrunken in a haze of relaxation and sloth instead of being charted with intriguing mental cartography. all is fine, i am young...but i am beginning to feel the pangs of frivolity, the lament for lack of accomplishment and distinction.
i am at a loss for how to describe my job; it is good and i feel fortified, insulated by it. at the same time, i feel like it thieves forty hours a week from me - more counting transit - that could be the blankets and backpacks of a genuine pioneering. it isn't that it takes all my time...a large chunk to be sure, but not all of it. but i feel drawn toward vivacity, towards the city, being young and ever-awake. i feel like maintaining friendships is absolutely essential, and rewarding, and that such a thing should not be abandoned for lofty artistic dreams...yet in the mathematical set i am working with, job + friends + sleep = matt at 26. wedging more in has proven difficult.
i have also come to acknowledge that relaxation is essential. this plays into the idea of friendships, because a good friendship is stress-relieving instead of stress-inducing. my job creates stresses; hell, just being inside my mind creates stresses of its own. decompression is a must, if i don't want to end up a crazy person, aimlessly wandering the alleys of Portland. if the equation is as simple as it seems (probably not the case), then what i need readjustment in is my work. do i try to find something else; something incorruptibly-fulfilling and which broadens my horizons as an artist? do i just need something as simple as to pare down my hours, such that i have more time to commit to personal projects and still stay afloat financially? finances are an argh. i see now how adults become progressively more preoccupied with such concerns, and how it has the ability to rob you of so much potential. i have some degree of scorn for our current incarnation of the capitalist system based upon this, but here is probably not the time or place to complain about how you can't stay afloat by scribbling away your days in coffee shops and mountaintops, even if it were for the advancement of the human spirit and all that riff-raff.
so, for the summertime being, i am currently stunned into inaction against this front. it marches over my mind with its full strength, and i plan to observe and characterize it before moving my own armada against its dark and foreboding will. i just need to find a way to set reminders for myself, little mementos that disarm my fear of its structuring ways since i know another, more ideal life, rooted somewhere in the deeper portions of my thought. i have faith at least in myself, as long as i am successful in keeping myself the same self. the people we naturally evolve into have different sets of strengths and weaknesses, different centers of gravity based on their abacus-arrangements and allotments.
how long has it been since you have taken a lengthy, analytical and prognostic look at your life? are we settling for the concerns that we have now, which become so overwhelming and eclipse the backgrounds behind them? i feel relatively complacent of late, which always pings as a red-flag status for me once i realize that it has been going on. it's summertime, and the living is easy...money that was made is now spent. weekends, so longed for and anticipated, are shrunken in a haze of relaxation and sloth instead of being charted with intriguing mental cartography. all is fine, i am young...but i am beginning to feel the pangs of frivolity, the lament for lack of accomplishment and distinction.
i am at a loss for how to describe my job; it is good and i feel fortified, insulated by it. at the same time, i feel like it thieves forty hours a week from me - more counting transit - that could be the blankets and backpacks of a genuine pioneering. it isn't that it takes all my time...a large chunk to be sure, but not all of it. but i feel drawn toward vivacity, towards the city, being young and ever-awake. i feel like maintaining friendships is absolutely essential, and rewarding, and that such a thing should not be abandoned for lofty artistic dreams...yet in the mathematical set i am working with, job + friends + sleep = matt at 26. wedging more in has proven difficult.
i have also come to acknowledge that relaxation is essential. this plays into the idea of friendships, because a good friendship is stress-relieving instead of stress-inducing. my job creates stresses; hell, just being inside my mind creates stresses of its own. decompression is a must, if i don't want to end up a crazy person, aimlessly wandering the alleys of Portland. if the equation is as simple as it seems (probably not the case), then what i need readjustment in is my work. do i try to find something else; something incorruptibly-fulfilling and which broadens my horizons as an artist? do i just need something as simple as to pare down my hours, such that i have more time to commit to personal projects and still stay afloat financially? finances are an argh. i see now how adults become progressively more preoccupied with such concerns, and how it has the ability to rob you of so much potential. i have some degree of scorn for our current incarnation of the capitalist system based upon this, but here is probably not the time or place to complain about how you can't stay afloat by scribbling away your days in coffee shops and mountaintops, even if it were for the advancement of the human spirit and all that riff-raff.
so, for the summertime being, i am currently stunned into inaction against this front. it marches over my mind with its full strength, and i plan to observe and characterize it before moving my own armada against its dark and foreboding will. i just need to find a way to set reminders for myself, little mementos that disarm my fear of its structuring ways since i know another, more ideal life, rooted somewhere in the deeper portions of my thought. i have faith at least in myself, as long as i am successful in keeping myself the same self. the people we naturally evolve into have different sets of strengths and weaknesses, different centers of gravity based on their abacus-arrangements and allotments.
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