The Commitment of Play

This probably doesn't belong here, but I'm falling asleep and had a thought I need to remember. I just finished sketching a page of a comic that has to do with a kid playing make-belief and it got me thinking about my own history as a make-believer. The more I thought about some of the games I used to play with my siblings or even alone, the more I began to remember the fervour with which I used to play. That feeling is what needs to be in everything I do. As a grown up (I guess I consider myself one now) I have too many obligations: to employers, to friends, to society, to myself; but I distinctly remember having an obligation to play. I'd make up games and play them without a care for anything, including myself. It was about finding the game, and playing it. Nothing else. I didn't do it because I needed money, or wanted to be recognized in my chosen field of study; I played because the idea that a game could be played meant it should be played--and come on, I was like four-years-old, there was nothing else to do except be bored.

Anyway, that feeling of playing has never left my memory, and even though I don't always remember that that is what it's about for me, there are instances when the planets align, I lose all attachments, and can happily commit to whatever it is I'm doing.