In a weird space lately…
Craving meaning for my effort.
Craving a way to make my work have weight.
But I’m also lacking focus.
I think it’s fear that creates this feeling.
Fear of discomfort, awkwardness, doubt.
And underneath it all a belief that I’m not good enough.
What should I do?
How many times do I ask myself this?
Why don’t I just write?
I probably have written more about not writing, than anything else.
I think multi-tasking is one of my problems. I always have 20 or more windows open. So the minute I hit an impasse of thought, I click to another window…check my mail…check a message board…check each taskbar tab and remind myself what I have half-finished in Dreamweaver, or Word, or Photoshop.
My computer has allowed me to maintain a work environment far more cluttered and distracting than any desk.
I crave productivity.
I crave that feeling of completion. Like the full-throated gulping feeling of satisfying a thirst.
Unfortunately, the projects I crave to complete require more work than they used to. My fleeting attention span works well with single sitting projects. But if it requires multiple days or weeks…it is practically doomed.
I have countless half-done graphics, stories, and animations.
Pages and pages of ideas and plans.
I’m not sure how to get it all under control.
I’m floating…but not with peace.
I need to pick a destination and swim for it. Instead of thrashing about in the center of the pool.