“People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing. That’s why we recommend it daily.” — Zig Ziglar
My first video… was actually recorded Yesterday!
It wasn’t really my first. I’ve recorded plenty of other videos in my time. Most of them rather recently. Most of them using a reality condom. But, it is my first video that I’ve posted on YouTube!
It is about assuming the role of one of the world’s first Generative Art Curators.
I’ve decided to start to refer to myself as one, since that is what I’ve been doing these past weeks. All month long I’ve been hyper focusing on fucking around with generative art. As well as curating, and printing the pieces that were.
As well as processing the death of my Dad on ten twenty-two, twenty-twenty-two. around two. That’s a memorable date and time for sure. Seared into my mind. Branded into my brain.
I have seriously, totally, utterly, disliked this year. It has been one of the most challenging of my adult life. I don’t feel like writing much about it publicly right now though. I will in the future. Just not now. Which has been a recurring theme this year.
I told myself I am going to make three blog entries a month. It is now the 29th. So… I have today, tomorrow, and the next. Three posts in a row. And at this moment it’s 10:10pm. But this one is mostly done.
That’s totally my M.O.
Right at the self-imposed deadline.
I’ll say it once, and write it thrice, then do so over and over again… one of the joys of managing ADHD is figuring out how to better be aware of the consequences of time.
Curiously enough, I find myself in a position of leadership in which I am the one reminding others that the concept of time exists, and that patience is going to be required. Yet within each moment, my concept of time is a bit more wobbly, and way more neurotic, than other’s might be.
I’ve actually started multiple posts this month, and haven’t quite finished any of them yet.
That is also my M.O.
But I have a bunch of stuff written, so I can come back to it, add some more poop, then smear it around before I publish it.
I have 37 posts as of this moment in my timmy.org journal though… so… yeah. My M.O. continues to expose itself all over the place. So much exposure. So much place.
The post I wrote that’s meant for 16 days ago grew to be relatively long. Like 1,652 words long. And there are still more words to be written… that I’m going to make an effort to get written and published before this fucking shit show of a year is over with and done.
And I will, I am, I’m writing this, aren’t I?
I have been time traveling way more recently than I’ve wanted to. Remembering many details from my past that I kinda wish stayed there. But it also has me remembering that I have done a lot of positive shit in my life, and have had a lot of experiences - many not positive, that many people probably haven’t.
I haven’t lived the life of a jet-setter, but I have been in a few private ones.
I haven’t lived the life of a trendsetter, but I have set one or two at a time, and at least a few more than that in elementary school.
I haven’t lived the life of anyone of notable import (yet), but I have met at least two of some, and quite a few others that are less notable but have some sort of import.
But as my brain goes back in time, and a bunch of stuff is bubbling up from the back of my mind to the front, I’m realizing that I’ve got plenty to write. Plenty to say. And plenty to save for another day.
Processing all of this is something I can handle. Just not right now, not all at once.
When I go back, I remember quite a lot. Lot’s of it positive. So positive I’m grateful for them. And many much less so - inflicted upon myself by another, inflicted by myself upon another, or inflicted by the absurdity of the universe because it enjoys fucking with me at times.
LOL. Imagine someone actually thinking the universe wants to fuck with them. That level of narcissism is almost admirable, but it’s more like we’re fucking with the universe.
It’s too much. I need to recharge. Like bad. And at the moment that means letting go of my concept of time and embracing a bit of solitude. Which is also relatively fucking challenging at the moment. That’s also likely one of the reasons it’s been more challenging to get this post, these posts, written and shipped at a regular cadence this month.
I mean… I am… Baby steps… But holy fucking shit this year. omfg. Brutal. It has been brutal. I make an effort to be positive and solution oriented. I’ve been having a more challenging time remaining positive without making a conscious effort. I catch myself responding to situations with a slightly negative quip rather than a positive one. “Oh man that sucked,” versus, “It was challenging.”
Instead, I will distract myself with poking around with generative art. Creation, Curation, and Community.
And then the word community triggers a few thoughts about that. I seem to be alright at building ones up and seeding them with content and discussion. My stamina at staying though… I love the people that I interact with, and then my mind gets pulled somewhere else. And with my mind, my attention, and with my attention, my focus, and with my focus. Well. Here I am writing rather than slinging memes on my Facebook Page.
I will distract myself by better defining what Generative Art Curator is, specifically. And I will distract myself by finding the other people out across the globe that might be like minded.
I’m 41 as of right now, and now that I’m realizing I’ve experienced a shitload of experiences that might be considered interesting by others, I know that I’ve got a fuckton more to experience in the future.
Negative, as well as positive.
Hopefully much more positive rather than other than.
And now, at the bottom of this post, Day One is informing me that this is 1,199 words.
Once again, the post I expected to be short and sweet ended up long and complex.
Just like I enjoy my potty breaks.
lmao, because that is all I can do, because there’s nothing else to other than that or I’ll cry.
Gotta keep reminding myself of this more and more recently:
Sure can be much less fucking fun at time than others, that’s for fucking sure. I’m looking forward to this being the past. Being beyond the layers of visceral emotions that I’m processing..
Til then… laughing.