Until the simplest step of them all is taken; just don't stop. I sat down today for the latest reintroduction to the kind of words that I want to write (as opposed to the ones they pay me for) and the hope that at some point I might be able to make the two activities one and the same. But like all journeys of a 1,000 steps or 10,000 hours or this lifetime it can only come to fruition if it becomes the purpose without cease. The frequency of posting dates looks quite a bit like a triple jumpers run: a short hop between entries followed by a longer skip which recently extended itself into a multi-year jump. I'm hoping at this point I've hit the sand and can trot off to the marathon course, because I feel the rust as I dust myself off. Writing is not like riding a bike, and it's always a little awkward getting back into the process, but how many forays into the cube nation will it take for me to get the hint?
I'm optimistic though, for there is something to be said though for the moments we reconnect with something that we hold dear. Like a good relationship I know that there will be significant struggle, not only with ideas, phrases and formatting but with motivation and will but all the work is for a better purpose and worth the struggle. I've always thought we should follow our passions, and that these passions are created from that which most bothers us when it is done poorly. If how disappointed I currently am with my own flow of ideas is an indicator, I'm certainly on the right track.
A larger problem than my own pains in restarting my flow of ideas is just how the state of the written word these days. Most texts sound like pidgin when read literally, 148 characters has become an acceptable length to convey an idea and I shudder at the disparity between books, articles and short stories read and youtube views. While I might be powerless to stop our decent into a future with out imagination or articulate communication I can only hope to express some decent remarks to those who might be amused while our collective imaginations polish the brass on the Titanic.
Or so would say some that have come before me. I wonder what Twain or Wilde would have thought of Tweeting. Hollywood is certainly hurting enough for ideas that I'm sure that Bill & Ted could have one more radical excursion enough to set that up. The bigger question there is, can you look at yourself in the mirror after writing a screen play about that? And if so, what kind of person does that make you? I can almost hear "Oz-car!" in the same way I heard "So-crates!" back in the day. Strange things afoot at the Circle K indeed. I think I'll go put on some Wyld Stallyns now.
And when I come back tomorrow I can only hope that there will be a little more in the tank to share than there was yesterday. I'm still unsure where I would like this little web slice to go, though I'm very interested in seeing what happens. I'm still working on what success actually means, but if I could hope to write for people who like writing than I think I've done more than my share. I'm also always in the search for new ideas people and places so if you like what you read don't be shy to say hello - we're all in this together.
Time to live the weekend while the weekend is good. Cheers friends!
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