Creative Slumps And Compensations

I'm in a bit of a rut. I am window-shopping expensive pro-audio gear that I can't afford. Scrolling video-shorts. Checking social media. Going down my list and texting friends. Calling people.

What I am not doing is what I need to be doing: Writing, photography, music.

My muse is silent right now. I feel like I've already shared quite a lot, and I'm not sure exactly how to proceed.

During these slumps in my teens and twenties I was a blackout drinker. In my thirties, not much better. I am glad to say I take a more considered approach to the between times now. If I am to live, I must be gentle with myself in every way, and become a more reasonable person.

Some people go to festivals or shows, but I don't have that level of commitment. I don't have the money, time or inclination to travel, and as I have stated multiple times elsewhere and in-person, I absolutely hate and distrust crowds.

Travel takes liquefied dinosaur bones (fuel), money, time, requires planning, logistics, and frequently involves large crowds. When my body is finally conveyed to my destination, I am the same person. When I leave, the experiences are mine alone. I've heard it said that travel is the only thing you can spend money on that enriches your soul. I don't think that's quite right. I've met some vapid, soulless travelers.

Some people take drugs to stave off the boredom.

I don't do that either. I know people who think they are avant-garde by continuing their old high school extracurricular activities.

It's an eye-roll to me. I have taken drugs before. But I see drugs as a distraction from my life at the very least, and a gamble with basic cognition and sanity (and all that implies) at worst. I've been there done that, and I feel no need to one-up anyone else's story. I've gotten what needed from various substances, and I've moved on. I am still alive. I value my life now. I value my ability to express coherent thoughts.

To me, a person of a certain age still doing drugs is the equivalent of throwing up the white flag in life. It signifies a surrender. It is a loss of control over one's actions (or ownership of them) and it is a continuation of seeking that dark, warm, dream-like state of being fully immersed in amniotic fluid. A common short-hand expression goes, "Looking at one's belly-button."

It is a regression in my opinion. Regression therapy is helpful to some people, some of the time, when it is well supervised by qualified individuals. I'm trying at all times in my life to move forward, not sideways or backward with undirected self-hypnosis.

Forward to me means becoming accountable for my actions. Also, taking responsibility for my own welfare to the point where I can be of service to others. Then, sharing the load of the household in order to take the weight off the others in it. Beyond those things, it means chasing down my dreams as quickly as possible because I don't have forever.

Broadly, what I am experiencing is the pain of existence.

The pain of being human. It just keeps going. Time marches on. We live every second of our lives, there are no breaks. There is no retreat and there is no rewind. I feel right now that my brain is like a can with a rock inside of it. That rock just rattles around. A rattle-can brain. That's what I have.

As I have stated elsewhere, I am a slow reader. I bought a kindle during quarantine, but it sits in the closet now. I took it off my nightstand after a year of disuse.

Though I've only read a portion of The Temptation To Exist, I relate strongly with Emil Cioran's use of aphorisms. "Momentary truths," subject to change.

I only write this kind of stuff, because explaining bores me terribly. That's why I say when I've written aphorisms it's that I've sunk back into fatigue, why bother. And so, the aphorism is scorned by "serious" people, the professors look down upon it. When they read a book of aphorisms, they say, "Oh, look what this fellow said ten pages back, now he's saying the contrary. He's not serious." Me, I can put two aphorisms that are contradictory right next to each other. Aphorisms are also momentary truths. They're not decrees. And I could tell you in nearly every case why I wrote this or that phrase, and when. It's always set in motion by an encounter, an incident, a fit of temper, but they all have a cause. It's not at all gratuitous.

E.M. Cioran
https://www.itinerariesofahummingbird.com/e-m-cioran.html

I am a half-way decent writer.

But I feel that I can't even come close to describing what I experience on a daily basis. I am humbled by the vast scale of the universe just as I am humbled and awestruck by the people in my life. I am very fortunate.

The world is far more intricate, beautiful and subtle than I have words to describe it. I may have said that before, but I want to reiterate that I feel inarticulate and clumsy in my ability to capture my experience and put it into words. I almost feel that music is more accurate. Words can get in the way.

If I knew mathematics to a degree where I could describe the world around me with it, perhaps that would be more accurate, but the audience for that would be much smaller.

There are large gaps in my education.

I graduated high school several units short because the principal did not want to see me back for summer school. That, and it was a charter school and in order to keep their charter, they needed to graduate a certain number of students. I believe I was one of those students.

I've tried and dropped community college five times in the Peralta colleges district. I probably have fifty or so incomplete units. If they were completed units, I would've easily had enough to graduate with my associate degree.

I feel like a broken person in some ways. I have the attention-span of gnat, and it is difficult to see things through to completion. It has occurred to me that I might have ADHD.

Back in May, words were pouring out of me at a rate of two-to-four thousand per day. June was a continuation of that creative output, but it has slowed down recently.

I had some ideas for different things to write. Technical things, like my experience with computers, the graphics program I use, or the digital audio workstation I use to make music. None of that is really striking a chord with me right now. I'd rather bitch and moan to you guys and drivel on about random thoughts as they occur to me, apparently. Forgive me if you were looking forward to those posts, they are still in the wings.

I have big dreams.

It is a goal of mine to become a professional music producer and audio engineer, but I've only been down that path for five years now. It may take another fifteen or twenty years before it actually starts paying off. I'll be in my sixties by that point.

I do wish I'd gotten started on creative pursuits earlier in life. C'est la vie.

Three years ago when I lost my last job, I let my phone service lapse and failed to renew it. That was on-purpose. For a couple years I did not have a phone. I conducted all communications via email.

I would still go to the Pub and help Jenny close, but I didn't make any extra effort to meet new people or renew my links with the people that I already knew. I withdrew from life in many ways. I can't account for that time. I became a hermit. The end of my last job knocked me for a loop. I was discouraged and wallowed in self-pity for some time.

At the beginning of this year, I told myself that this would be the year of increased socialization and music.

It has definitely been that. I have met dozens of new people, new to me, and I've had a steady stream of musicians recording at my home studio. It's been really great! I am excited about the possibilities in my little patch of life now.

I am constantly writing, handing out business cards, taking photos and chasing down musicians to record. It requires a bit of effort. Even though I am expending a lot of energy to operate this way, there are times in-between. Lulls. The wind in the sails dies down for a while. That is to be expected. I've only recently adopted this new modus operandi. I should expect gaps in creativity and communication, especially just starting out.

I am confident that my continued efforts will be rewarded, and those rewards will compound over time. Like money in a managed account, it will begin to pay dividends. It already is. I have a new lease on life and I am grateful for it. I am extremely fortunate in my family-life and social-life, not so much with money.

Money has been fleeting in my life. I don't intend to strike it rich, but it would be nice to at least meet my partner half-way. It would be nice to not have to worry about things like rent, bills, and food. I'd like to be comfortable. I'm not there yet. I am decidedly uncomfortable. My current financial situation doesn't sit well with me. My parents raised me to be a hard worker, and instilled in me a code of ethics that I try to live up to.

Maybe it will happen for me.

Maybe not. All I can say is I am following my heart, and seeing where it takes me. This is a new direction for me. I feel like I've just awoken from a deep hibernation.

I hope with a little luck and determination that I can carve out a living eventually, by remaining true to myself and treating others well. Maybe that's naive of me. Our world has gone off the rails in so many ways. Change and entropy are the only constants it seems.

I feel like I am trying to thread a needle in a hurricane right now. I have my doubts, but I am leaving room. I want to earn it and pay back my debts ten-fold. That is my intent. As to whether I can do it?

I just remember the three most important words in the world. The words from and to which all the world's wisdom is able to flow:

I. Don't. Know.