Imagine my surprise when, while re-doing my website, I realized that I had nothing resembling a blog on it anywhere. The shock only increased when I realized that everything under the tab “writing” remain unlinked, the categories just sitting on the page as four generalized words, going nowhere.
But in reality I shouldn’t be shocked at all. I’ve recently thrown myself down so many so creative avenues that I have little time to evaulate or look backwards. This also means that I have little time to write which is perhaps, more that anything, the most saddening. I concider myself a writer first and foremost, and yet I find myself so often doing just that.
Ok, that isn’t entirely true. I write every day, but I don’t write for myself. I’m not writing about what’s on my mind. I spend most of my days working on articlesfor others about specific topics–while still trying to find intersting things to film for my daily vlog.
Int he past few months, my daily vlog has consumed my life. Not that I’m complaining, because I love it, but the hours of daily editing lead to a special kind of exhaustion. Throw my weekly podcast with editing & show notes on top of that, plus writing a guitar riff for every day of the vlog and the remainer or my non-work time swirls into a slobbering, gaping maw.
And I love it. I do. I love being busy. I love creating. I love consistently pushing the boundaries of what I can do. I love to saly dragons. But, what I do not love is the frantic feeling of continually running to catch up.
Where do I find the time to learn more about using Premiere? Where do I find the time to program my mouse? Where do I find the time to install text expander? Where do I find time to clean my desktop, to promote the podcast, to promote the vlog, to post to twitter, to post to facebook, to post to reddit, to engage in communities of my target audience, to respond to youtube comments? Where do I find time to even look at Snapchat or Beme? Where do I find time to write a blog?
It’s maddening question to which the only answer is: with an ax. I find time by chopping it visciously down into the heart of my day, cleaving whatever lies dormant in it’s path. Something always suffers. Chaos continually ripples from impact wounds.
And when/if I acutally butcher the time into my day, what do I say? What is left that hasn’t been shared with the camera or or on the podcast? What is left in the bucket?
One could easily descent into lamentations for the modern artist, for the modern artist needs to be not only creator but business owner, marketer, salesperson, PR, webdesigner, graphic designer and financer. But wailing to empty sky changes little but the timbre of the voice that cries out. I take then energy and time need to winge and shovel it on the coals of locomotion. I move forward.
It seems horrific yet fortunate, that in my maelstrom of haste and ambition, I cancelled my previous website hosting without exporting any of my previous blogs. I discovered this morning that verything I’ve written for the past few years on pervious website, is lost to the ether. Good. Let it go. Let the ghosts rest in their graves.
As a younger man I would have been horrified–devasted by a loss such as this. But today, the man that I am is unphased. I hold fast to the knowledge that:
- I can always create more. (This is reason I have never worried about being plagiarized. That person get one article, or one paragraph, or one sentence–but that’s all they get. I on ther other hand can make more. They may steal my oragami crane, but I have the stack of paper.)
- The only piece that matters is the next one. Those who cling to the past, fear the future.
So perhaps, this in an opportunity to re-expore all of these ideas. I imagine that becoming a frantic daily creator has altered my perspective on the creative process. Imagine I may find something to say after all. Or perhaps, its time to see the mirror with different light.