PASSING stranger! You do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,) I have somewhere, surely, lived a life of joy with you, All is recall’d as we fit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured, You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me, I ate with you, and slept with you - your body has become not your only, nor left my body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass - you take of my beard breast, hands, in return, I am not to speak to you - I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone, I am to wait - I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
The motivation to produce shit seems primal to me. I mean to say, it feels primal enough. The day starts, we make all kinds of crazy things happen, the day ends; the process regurgitates. But all day, we’re going, going, pushing, editing, refining, making, creating. Energy bounces back and forth between a person and a person, a person and an animal, a person and a musical instrument, a person and the internet, a person and ANYTHING, etc. We are/I am capable of creating anything.
Is production limited to making a ‘thing’? Should it be? Is it only production if you paint a canvas, write a poem, draw a cartoon, edit a video…?
What about wielding the ability to motivate others to make either physical or theoretical products? What about being able to induce a creative, productive, intelligent conversation? What about just being an awesome fucking human that your friends love? Being someone who inspires others to do awesome shit?
Are you, then, just a leech? Feeding off the energy of others while driving the energy at the same time? Is that mutually beneficial relationship at the crux of production? Producers need muses: muses need producers.
[Most of the time, my mind automatically calculates dualities - which, then, leads to an excruciating internal dialog. Usually, before I can even determine where I stand - both sides of the argument are present and accounted for in my mind]
Isn’t this, in itself, the essence of production? Not only the ability to organize your thoughts and emotions into a tangible experience, but the ability to collaborate with others - the ability to motivate your friends and coworkers and common strangers to produce more and better shit.
The world has only proven to me, over and over, that society creates us a drones. We are urged to be insular and homogeneous. Stay in the lines. Think in these boxes. Perform these actions at this time when this timer goes off.
The repetitive nature of human existence is mind numbing.
This started off about production - mostly - about my inability to produce a volume of work, and the fear/anxiety I feel when I try to create anything.
I started taking piano lessons again (after about a decade) and my newfound motivator told me something that struck: ‘Embrace how bad you are.’
YES. Exactly. Embrace it! I fucking suck at playing the piano (tho, I will say, I’m well on my way to bringing it back), but that’s okay! It’s okay to be bad. Just be bad and be playing!
I want to get better and am consciously trying to get better - so, eventually, I will.
This concept is scalable.
I want to produce things and am consciously trying to do so - so, here we are. Proclaiming this in an open forum is step one. Next is finishing any of the misshapen, forgotten, lost, or ignored projects strewn about my mind.