one. to read more books and comics.
two. to play more video games.
three. to give into impulse more often and take advantage of my time.
four. to be more willing and honest in my relationships with other people.
five. to relax.

Another night like the last post, but this one is less productive. I wonder if I could make music, having no history of creative music in my past. I'd like to find out without spending $400 on a USB MIDI keyboard. Started and finished Christmas shopping today (yesterday). Either I'm very efficient or not very thoughtful. I thought I did well considering I was only really buying for my siblings this year. Watched There Will Be Blood. then King of California. both amazing. Drank too much caffeine today. Who needs four shots of espresso in a light roast coffee? First and last buzzsaw from Rocca Jacks. Colder than hell lately, but I still like being outside.

will crash at some point

I'm sitting in the dark of my bedroom after a power nap. My brother is back from Montreal for good now. And I hung out with him all afternoon. Talked a lot of good and I must be excited to get started because I somehow woke right up and couldn't get back to sleep. I've been trying to rely less on a scheduled life, which is difficult with a specific work schedule, and when I start to feel the pull of creativity I've been trying to not ignore it. I put down an outline for thirteen pages in a comic I'm doing, and suddenly, I feel great. I know I have a long day tomorrow, but it should be mostly fun, and I'm debating whether or not to go tired for a day. Naps help, but maybe I should start indulging in my art more. thirteen is good, but thirty would be great. and that's not even close to book one. Also I need to put up more drawings to remind me of what I do.

I've been possibly enjoying being ill a little too much. Sitting on the couch watching movies, playing games, and eating. Deadly combination. Of course, in between all of that, I've made considerable progress on a comic project (considerable in that I'm almost allowing myself to start it). I should be doing that tonight, but instead, I may just watch another trashy movie and let it percolate. Also, I need to get out and play in the snow more.

Thirty-two inches

I chatted over Facebook with a friend from art school today and realized not how much I missed her, which I do, but rather how much I'm dependent on other people to make my life work. I've always been introverted at my own luxury. Safe in the thought that even if I don't need to speak to people on a daily basis, I still see them. The only person I've consistently seen on a daily basis for the longest time is myself. I'm not complaining about being lonely because I am always hanging out with my closest friends. No, what I'm talking about is an awareness of something deeper than simply not hanging out with people enough. It is the fact that there is a point where I cannot get any closer to a person than I am. I become aware of it when I reach that thresh and then withdraw. This is totally aside from the quality of my relationships with people, mind. But in that sobering moment of clarity, I could be surrounded by a legion of my favourite people, and feel empty.

So like the good consumerist I am, I bought possessions to make me feel better. I bought a modestly large high definition television to play video games on. And it helped. And I felt satisfied with its size in my apartment. And I felt productive today while I chatted with my friend, played video games, and listened to music.

All Things Enjoyable

When I was in high school I developed two stories that were intended to be my magnum opus when I was ready to tackle them and full of enough smarts to make them good. Despite trying to get good grades, most of my time was spent on the computer or (since my three siblings and I shared one computer with internet) in notebooks fleshing out all the details of these stories. I locked myself out of my home on Sunday and rather than breaking in or bothering my landlady at home, I went to spend the night at my parents' house, where rummaging revealed two notebooks/collections of paper that made up my life in high school. I never fully appreciated how much time I spent developing these stories that I continue to draw upon as part of my personal mythology, but somehow it really struck me when I briefly flipped through them. It dawned on me that I'm not that passionate anymore. I have nothing to escape from, thus, I don't care if I'm working on developing ideas so much. These stories were my spare time. I remember working on them after school until karate and then after karate late into the night. I would wake up and write. Write between periods. Think about what I would write while in class, and then write about it. But suddenly, I am at a point in my life where there is nothing that pressing to my day-to-day life. I work jobs for money, but I really like these jobs. Do I need to hate my life to be productive? I have everything I want and need right now, so maybe I'm just bored. Somehow, I've only been developing art when I have to, not when I want to. That's not right.
Part of me wants to see these old stories through, just for completion sake. Maybe that's what I need: something that is an escape from my actual responsibilities.

Art? Questionmark?

OK! Enough stalling! I worked everyday this week (including tomorrow) on things that had nothing to do with my own art. In my spare time, I've set up the internet in my new apartment and surfed that internet aimlessly, spent time birthday partying with/for a good friend of mine, watched two seasons of Arrested Development, and downloaded/played game demos on my Xbox for games I don't anticipate every purchasing. These are all great things, but these things also are not art.

I've put off work for long enough, and can't justify it any longer. I need to make progress, but it is so easy to shrug off creative work. Thus, I propose this alternative: I suck it up and quit wimping out. This is the only solution, for there is always an excuse not to do creative work--and it's always easier to consume than it is to produce.

This weblog is now officially a part of my work. It is a non-specific outlet for me to spill any excess energy I need to get me working and creating. Just as much for my sake as anyone choosing to read, I will detail my thoughts, projects, and processes for overcoming the creative block that is an omnipresent factor when making art.