Here by force, not against my will, but at the behest of another. Too little time spent at the blog, which flies in the face of its reason for being--to be updated regularly. Arguably, I justify it's negligence in the face of other writing, which fortunately has been a contributing factor. I have not been writing exclusively however. There is the freelance design project I somehow backed myself into for a small and inequitable value considering the time it takes away from more important matters. There is the fine art piece I committed to producing in the effort to raise funds for one more peer in my immediate demographic who is facing the ever-growing prospect of terminal cancer. There is the down time with my wife and kids, building animatronic legos, watching movies and just hanging out. And then, as always, there is the simple art of procrastination, so easily disguised as so many other things...
All things being said, all things being done, how do my efforts at the blog score? Not great. Disappointing perhaps. But then again isn't this just the means to an end, an end arrived at by so many diverting and converging paths? Yes, but only so far as it is employed consistently. The value of this blog lies not in its content or quantity, but its consistency. Granted, I will have distractions, deficits of time. But that should not matter. What is important is that the touchstone is touched. Writing is important and attention to its endeavor paramount, for without it, progress is so easily lost to time. If I can't write for a day, or a week, or a month, I owe it to myself to confess it, to report it, to log it. This way, I keep score and force myself to acknowledge and accept the work I do or don't. The goal is to keep the dialogue with myself open, as prolific, as procrastinating, as purposeful or punishing as it may be. In absence too much is taken for granted.
The lesson here: write often, write briefly, write wherever I am. Keep it simple and it needn't compete with the actual writing. Keep it simple and it can sustain itself when I have time for little else. Keep it simple and I keep this real.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. Ralph Waldo Emerson
ReplyDeleteYaba-daba-doo.
ReplyDelete-Fred Flintstone