Intentional Beginnings

(Disclaimer: I live in a world that is totally comfortable with words that that are normally bleeped out of cable TV and that, while I encourage you to click on the little blue links, that you should aware that there are people out there who make use of those little words to punctuate their sincerity and if those words aren't your thing, maybe think again about clicking on the last link.)

I spend most of my evenings having things pour into me. I check Facebook and see what people have posted, read articles, shake my head, smile, click through pictures, and respond to messages. I shudder when I look at my gmail and avoid deleting the extras among the 800 unread messages because there's a link to a new video from one of my youtube subscriptions. I catch up on videos with headphones in because only nerds subscribe to channels on youtube (nerdfighters, that is) and I have to pretend I'm not a nerd (though the word nerd is not an insult- John Green). I check Twitter and spend what must be an hour loading new tweets, clicking on content, reading articles, looking at picture sets, and following conversations down through my twitter feed. If you have the misfortune of following me while I'm watching a movie or the Friends finale, you see that I spend much of those hours tweeting quotes from what I'm watching. And if Twiiter, Facebook, TV, movies, and roommates can't feed my emptying brain enough, I'll switch over to my tumblr and reblog the first twenty awesome pictures, articles, or John Green quotes I see. Also squids. There's this girl on tumblr who's like me and is even named Addie except she has this thing for Matthew Gray Gubler and squids. Not together. That would be weird. But I'm giving squids a try because my doppelganger thinks they're cool and I like her taste.

Squids aside, I spend most of my time at my new awesome townhouse with awesome roommates doing anything except making something. And I think it's great that there's so much good content out there. There's such opportunity to make things and design things and put it out there for people to look at and evaluate and admire and ascribe importance to. I really like that there's this international underground of creativity that isn't necessarily recognized by the media powers that be. Basically, I'm an internet hipster. Like, I think etsy is an awesome idea, I think you could give some of the artists on DFTA records,  the NPR tiny desk concerts, or the free new artists list on Amazon a listen, and I think that there are beautiful and funny and insightful blogs on tumblr and other places on the internet. Even though there's a lot of pointless things out there, I think that the magical land of the internet is a sweets and joy and joyness. My only problem with the internet is that I spend more time watching than contributing. Then again, I do that in life a lot too, so I'm not sure that I'd expect anything too much different.

But making something means putting yourself out there. I mean, I had an impromptu accoustic guitar session with my roommate, whom I trust and love, and I couldn't pick a single song for us to play for fear of picking something I couldn't play at all or something that my roommate wouldn't know or like. It's one of the safest environments possible, outside of being alone, and I just had nothing to give. Or, I started organ lessons on Friday and had to stop and talk  and make a joke every single time I messed up. I'm starting to think that I contain a world of insecurities just waiting to be unleashed on people. But making something, whether it’s music or writing or other arts, means putting your talents to use and making things that are distinctly you and allowing people to take and use them however they want. It's difficult and scary and something I totally want to do right now.

I have this weird, awesome amount of confidence in things I do because I am now good at something, that something being planetarium shows. I mean, I never intended nor thought that knowing so many puns about stars and planets and stuff would give me confidence to do other things, but recognizing that feeling of accomplishment, of knowing that in a particular situation you could excel like no other, helps you recognize that feeling in other situations and helps you to be proud of yourself, to have the right kind of pride. So I'm going to run with that and take Ira Glass's advice and just continue making things. Now, I paint like a one year old (that's unfair- I draw stick figures on, like, a seventh grade level at least) and I sing like someone who deserves to have the choir hide them (also unfair- I mean, I'm only squeaky after close football games which I attended and which I think we should have won) and play guitar like a noob, but I write pretty OK, so I'm going to start intentionally writing again. It's part of an intentional series of life things I have going on right now and I figure if I can succeed at something I want to do, maybe I'll figure out how to succeed at things I have to do.

I'm drawing up a list of topics and at least weekly I'm going to write a new blog about different ideas. I recently spent a summer deeply discussing the attributes of superheroes, so maybe I'll write something smart about that. I've had a lot of questions about why we've landed a laboratory on Mars, so maybe I'll rehash that. I've thought a lot about what I think about social, economic, and religious issues, so maybe I'll muster up some courage and tackle some of those things. And I've experience a lot of funny sound bites in my recent life, so maybe I'll curate a collection of those to present to you. I mean, I totally appreciate my coming-of-age things, because I'm stuck in that phase where I'm definitely an adult but am unsure about how I feel about that, or how other people feel about that, but there's much more to me than that, and I want to express that.

So raise a glass to beginnings, to the infinite set of numbers in that terrible place between zeroand one that I'm going to brush by (Ze Frank). Let the potential for awesome thrive.