I am a human, but what does this mean? Do I have a personality or am I just an avatar to you? Am I a machine or do I communicate? Perhaps I’m just a collection of photographs – hopefully some will be alluring.
My goal of this project is to make me more human. As much as I share, it’s not really that personal. If I want to tell stories, I must start at home.
As should probably be obvious, I spending lots of time thinking. My philosophy is one of continual growth. I read personal, professional, spiritual, magical, physical, and dietary development material on the regular. I keep gray Moleskin cahier unlined notebooks and fill these with notes. I label the plain covers myself with a stamp.
I mostly prefer non-fiction material over fiction. I find it far too easy to let my mind wander into a dream world, and have never needed much help from fiction to get me there, so what I prefer is to read non-fiction and learn some techniques from others who have followed their own path. In my youth I did prefer western novels.
In spite the sometimes overwhelming feeling that I don’t know where I want to go or be, I do. I sell my dreams short with gray matter and obscurity when trying to verbalize them, but the dreams live on. What frustrates me is the plain fact we all live with: dreams do not come true instantaneously.
A friend told me that verbalizing a dream makes it lose some of it’s magic. I acknowledge that it may lose some of it’s ethereal status, but I believe in mapping out dreams and visions and formulating a game plan. I’m an engineer. I do fairly binary logic.
I had a girlfriend (I guess you could call her that even though it was strictly digital) who told me dreams are important. This thought is always reassuring. Coincidentally it helped me believe one day I would meet her. Heartbreak city.
I know that I have a voice. I feel it’s my responsibility as a human to encourage that voice to be heard by whoever finds me.
Have you ever read Gandhi’s autobiography: Experiments With Truth?
One of the greatest bits of wisdom I carry with me everywhere is Gandhi’s explanation that today he makes choices based on the knowledge he has today. If tomorrow he should learn something new that changes what he knows, he will not hesitate in revising his choices unabashedly and does not look back with any sort of remorse.
Brilliant. Just like that, a dispersing of the ego.
However, I am regularly frustrated with my changing scope of interests. How can one become a master if they don’t commit a lifetime to the specific path?
I don’t know.
I do know that I must let out something that’s sitting there on the surface scratching at my conscience. So it comes out. My hope is that this forward momentum will eventually create a collection of material that is meaningful. My faith comes in my already existing archive. It’s extensive.
I am from a family of collectors. I learned the power of collecting strongly. I used to collect Zippo lighters, coasters, concert tickets, stamps, sports cards, teeth (I’d write a note to the tooth fairy asking if I could keep them for my collection), pens, guitar picks, guitars for that matter, and unique paper.
I am fairly certain that my seemingly constant changing creations confuse you, but I’ve accepted this.