On the note of the arts, linguistic and otherwise... I did something I thought I'd never do a few weeks ago and it was a good feeling.
I recently moved to a place that's really a step between broke young person and the life I eventually want for myself. So quality of life overall has already drastically improved. And for 15, 20 years, I've held onto these two huge binders full of every drawing I felt great about, every school paper I received a standing ovation for, every short story, every teenage diary entry, every canvas paper painting, every last glimmer of a time when I actually read, wrote, and created regularly.
Well, I threw it all away as I was unpacking. I looked at each piece, I read each professor's comment, I acknowledged, then I threw in the bin. I think that holding onto the remarkable kid I was has and always will hold me back. I used to be such a right- brained factory of artistic accomplishment, I would write poems constantly and I knew the mythos of so many fantasies and authors inside and out, and I gazed out windows yearning for these creatures to be real. I was one of the smart kids in school, and I was hands down considered the most talented writer for many grades and locations. I was acknowledged as exceptional.
As I've grown up, my brain has revealed itself to be a leftie. I'm entirely financially driven - the white collar lifestyle has released to me its bountiful fruits at long last, and I'd argue expressing oneself should be purely an outlet, not an artform. I'd say I can string some words together in a lilting sort of way, but it's not that important to me anymore.
I'm more proud of a new spreadsheet I developed in the office, wherein I'm automatically comparing total sales for the year against the prior year and benchmarking it against a continual 5% increase. Harder than it sounds to figure out btw. I created a helper column to search for the partner month of the prior year using dynamic reference to A, so A might be January 2019 then F would autocalcuate as January 2018. In addition is accounting for the continuous increase, and showing the status of the current year against that increase so our quarterly meetings aren't always "well we'll see in December ".
My point is, as good as I feel about this, and as well as I've been doing - which is pretty well considering I have no degree and about 6 years ago I was a part time janitor smoking pot every day, making half the money - I can't bring myself to engage in any sort of creativity when I'm not at work, and because of this some days I would rather work later than come home. I've been playing Cities:Skylines lately and that's helping a bit, appealing to both sides of the ol noggin. But I'm not afraid to admit, a part of me missed the praise. If you slap a drawing up on the facebooker everyone kisses your ass about it. If I compose some lengthy bullshit prose my mom tells me how talented I am. But if I proudly display a completely traffic free mega city I've created, beautiful and happy and well functioning with clean civic engineering, nobody gives a shit and nobody's impressed. I'm well respected and appreciated at work but none of it matters when I lock those doors behind me.
So, good feeling, letting go of the past. But on the topic of the thread, it also brings to light what one of the hidden thorns plaguing me likely for years probably was. I miss the praise. I miss impressing mentors. I can do it at the office, but it's not enough. And I wish I wasn't so weak that I required validation. My new self help goal is to truly not give a shit and focus on my creativity for it's own sake, rather than the rewards it can bring me - not give a shit, like I've thought for years I haven't. Maybe I'll even draw something when I'm fully released. I was dabbling with animation last year, and I'd say I'm definitely a scholar of the cartoon arts, so if I applied myself maybe I could enjoy it for longer.
And I gotta say, this has been it's own kind of cathartic. I forgot how great forums were for running my fucking mouth so nobody else has to know about it.
