Feeling Strange(r) in a Strange Land

It has been a long year. And I have made so much. At the same time, tonight, I feel like I haven’t MADE much.

I have directed a lot. I have curated a lot. But in this moment I feel somewhat alienated from the experience of my production.

Of the things I have always loved so much. The things that gave me so much joy.

The pain of making.

I have gained a lot too. In this year I have been the most productive I have been. I have been able to make things I have only dreamed of making. But did I really make them?

What happens to the creative soul, when making becomes cheap?

(but even here, the making isn't cheap. it still needs a keen eye and a steady hand)

I think a big part of the pleasure of making, is the pain that comes with making things. The uncertainty, the stress. The feeling of approaching the blank page and pushing and nudging until you find something true.

There is no truth without pain. There is no real without discomfort.

The pain is what teaches us. It is what guides us. It is what brings out the best in us. If we try to deny that, then we end up in nihilism, we end up with nothing.

It is in kissing pain and tasting stress that we become ourselves, It is here. We learn something new

I fear with AI, we forget that the pain can never be cheated.

That is the thing. The pain can never be cheated.

In 2011, I used to call this…the war of art. Inspired by Steven Pressfield.

I began this journey, then and since this experience hasn’t really changed.

Every time I sit at my desk to make, there is always that feeling…not of dread, not terror…but the empty page is always a formidable opponent.

It always demands sacrifice, faith. You don’t know what way you will find. But you have to dive in, and you have to trust.

And it is when you do that, when you give up your need for certainty, When you trust, when you take the leap of faith, that you start to find something true.

There has always been temptation, there has always been the promise of something to make it shorter. A template, a framework, a method.

But the essence of reality comes in the smudges of fingerprints.

For anything real to be made, someone has to pay for it.

(why not the sons of god)

I have made so much this year, but I haven’t stared at the void enough.

I haven’t confronted the blank page enough.

Sometimes, what we need more than all, is to calm the mind down.

And breathe.

And allow now, today, in.

To create the gap.

The empty space where truth can pry its way in.

I am learning that again.

These new tools open up new doors. But the cost is always the cost., We must never conveniently forget that the piper must be paid, and dare think we can tip the scales for free.

It’s a unique thing. It promises and provides, all of this true power. All of this convenience. But to really truly harness it, you have to respect the sacrifice. You have to offer it up willingly, syncophantically.

You have to still let it cost you something. You have to dive head first into the abyss of the open road, the blank canvas.

You have to be willing and ready to lose.

That is the only way to truly win.