Text and Hubris

Thoughts on a lecture last night:

I am beginning to think the reason I returned to college was good conversation and to rediscover my motivation.

Let’s be honest. I could have done everything I have done so far without incurring the costs associated with pursuing a degree. I have plenty of people to workshop with and I am pretty good at finding more. I could have easily stepped up and accessed the on-line artist communities and learned about off-line resources as well. I read a lot before and a lot of the material we cover and analysis provided are available on-line and, nowadays, a lot of lectures and classes are also available for free. In other words, I am not in college for an education.

I lost something, though. I know I lost something because that whole long list of things I could have done without pursuing a degree, I didn’t do. Instead, I sat. I lost my motivation. I lost it in part out of fear and in part out of a real sense of inertia. My fear was easy. These things I create, I care about. If I invest time and effort to create something that means that I care about it. To have it attacked or called not good is painful. Although, as I have learned, it’s not as painful as I expected. The workshop I am currently in has its flaws but it is teaching me to take criticism as it is meant and with a serious grain of salt.

Inertia, though. That’s a tough one. As much as I don’t like my current situation, I am comfortable in it. To use a trite, but apt, comparison I am currently living the high life inside the Matrix. Why would I leave when the real world is all gray and nasty? My motivation is dulled, and the one thing I really took home from last night was the fact that if you lack motivation, so will your audience.

This is true, but it goes well beyond audience in terms of art or story. This strikes at the core of everything I do. Without motivation, without that spark, nothing else happens. Anything that is done will always be second rate. I can write an essay or a story with little to no motivation. I can even get an A. That doesn’t make the work good and it doesn’t mean that anyone will read it beyond the instructor and myself. The same is true professionally. If I am not motivated, I can still meet my goals. Without a true love for what I do, though, I am just treading water.

My audience isn’t just those who read my work. It is my family, my friends, and my colleagues. I need to bring that same level of drive and determination to everything I do. Otherwise, it’s just not worth doing.

I’ve been spending a lot of time pining for the Internet I knew in the 90′s. Back then, it was a hidden world full of geeks and hackers playing with technology and exploring just how far that tech could take us. We communicated with each other, we learned from one another, and slowly the rest of the world jumped on board. Of course, by that time the Internet was no longer a plaything. It was big business and that meant it had to be controlled. Content and copyright became the watchwords, the DMCA took affect, and slowly the Internet became television.

I should add that, as far as television goes, the Internet sucks. It’s nothing more than a huge reality show put on by ourselves and the people around us. Essentially, we’ve all been turned into actors in the world’s largest “Truman Show” and that is a sad, sad thing. I know, I know! There are a lot of people who love what’s it’s become but to me it’s nothing less than the AOLer’s revenge. All those things that I valued about the Internet so long ago seemed to have disappeared into the inane ramblings of a populace more interested in consuming than creating.

So there I was, pining for the good old days and bitching about today. It was easy. After all, there is so much to bitch about. That’s is the nasty thing about nostalgia. It’s addictive and it’s easy. It’s also complete bullshit. Nothing has changed as much as it seems. Sites like Make and Instructables are thriving. There is a growing and vibrant DIY community that is filled with incredible people who are, daily, pushing the limits of our understanding. The same is true for any aspect of the arts. Those creators are still out there and – shockingly enough – they’re actually growing in number. The only thing that has truly changed is the scope and size of the Internet. It’s become a much bigger place now and those odd creative-types are a bit harder to find than they used to be. After all, it’s a lot easier to get lost amongst the Facebooks and Hulus of todays corporate-mediated media. The actual talent is still around, though, and that gives me hope. I accept that the mainstream world may never fully embrace those who wander on the edge but as long as the edge is there and it is accessible by anyone then I am happy. When we write, when we create, and when we build, we continue the tradition that marks our evolution as a species. I hope that I, even in some limited way, can help add to that.