It's dark and rainy out, and I'm feeling introspective, and also feeling the urge to post here. Thinking about a bunch of stuff, reflecting on a few lectures I experienced recently on creativity, genius & inspiration, and thinking about my life at present and what I'm doing with my days and nights and self. Feeling like I cant possibly capture what's in my mind tonight here, but also feeling like I need to send some of it out and ease this feeling of overflow and bubbling over of thoughts, fears and concerns. The following post might be a bit on the babbling brook/rambling road side. There's my disclaimer :D
The window I'm typing this in hovers over a desktop that's filled with jpegs I've recently downloaded from my phone or the web. Many are of the porn variety, a collection of NSFW images of me, guys I've chatted with, guys I wish I knew. Of course, what's on my screen is only a sprinkle. There are folders and hard drives and CD-ROMs going back years that I've amassed since the 90's. This post isn't about my dirty pic collection though. In part, it's about my relationship with the visual world. I spend so much time captivated by appearances, images and pictures, both the two dimensional ones and the ones in my mind, or the ones that appear in front of me as I go about my day.
This occupation overlaps somewhat with a desire to create my own images. Yes I paint, but these days spend more time with my iPhone in hand playing with photo apps instead of brushes. I've never called myself a photographer, but I take a lot of photographs. Most of them are what people would call snapshots, as artistically significant as someone taking snaps of themselves while clubbing or at a party. Still, they are a kind of meditation for me, or simply a reminder of the present, or the moment, or born out of a desire to document something, or myself. I'm not alone in this pursuit. Many people take lots of pictures, that's nothing new. I feel like somehow I want to do it in a more significant way. Maybe as a means to justify what I'm doing.
I've been comparing myself and my blog to others out there and feel like I haven't been prolific enough. "Prolific" is a word that depresses me a little as I judge myself constantly for being so lazy when it comes to putting myself out there. Over the years I've seen many people go from having a dream to do something, to applying a lot of energy and effort toward that goal or dream, to ultimately achieving what they'd set out to do. I've been good at supporting others, but often do not support and motivate myself.
I'm proud of this blog but could do a lot more here. I'm fond of my contributions on twitter as insignificant as they might seem to some. I need some goals, I need a plan to get there. Maybe more than that, I need to stoke those motivational fires. Somehow I need to bring forward the muse for motivation and drive. I feel like my default is often lazy, sleepy, & "content". True, I have a lot of joy in my life and have brought some great experiences and amazing people into it. In some ways I can do a lot more. I almost feel a kind of responsibility to.
It's not that I want to abandon all the fun, lazy afternoons or daydreaming I'm so fond of. It's just that those things alone are not going to get me much. But then, I also feel really unclear sometimes about what it is I want to do and say. There is a leader in me who wants to lead, but what's my message? How can I blast it out there? Even whispering it would be good. Any communication of my inner workings, innermost desires and thoughts would be a good thing. Just looking over what I've written gives me a feeling of being overwhelmed. So much to figure out. Who is Hawk Shepherd? Will the world know? Arf.
