It’s Like Squeezing a Drop of Glue from a Clogged Elmer’s Cap
Does anyone remember what I’m talking about? Do you remember how in elementary school you’d try and squeeze some glue from one of these, only it’d be impossible when the glue would get stuck to the cap and it would get all crusty, and then you’d try and squeeze some glue onto your paper flower or whatever and then the cap would be backed up and getting anything out of the tube would be impossible?
I’ve had the most productive few days of writing I’ve had in a while. But I just feel … backed up. I’m trying to write with discipline and rigor. I’m trying to get in at least six hours a day. I’m not working, I have no excuse. That’s the way I feel anyway. And I think a part of me knows well enough to just sink into the creative space I’ve made for myself with whatever time I’ve allotted to write during the day and just go with it. But this other part of me, the residue of trying to do this during constant turmoil in my life for the past seven years, is like: “now you’ve gotta perform!!! Now you’ve gotta produce! Lay down some ingenuity on the page!!! Do it nao!!!”
I’m tired. Part of the issue is my brain may just be scrambled and over everything as a result of everything that’s happened. You know, is work ever fun? Like, if this is work, maybe I’ll just automatically recoil at anything I do over the course of regular hours. I feel like this doesn’t bode well. How can I get burned out from doing this before even officially starting?
I have been secretly stalking (in a refrained, considerate, conscientious sort of way) this filmmaker whose body of work I have been drooling over in terms of its heart, humor, honesty, truthfulness, and ingenuity. Not to mention that this guy somehow has been tapping into the media of my childhood with what seems like such effortlessness. But I feel like, minus the pandemic element, this short is where I’m at right now.
Credit to Philip Thompson
I hope I’m giving proper credit to someone else’s work. I believe this is okay to post as it’s on Youtube and Vimeo and NoBudge and other places. Also, if posting it here allows two additional people to see it and get familiar with Mr. Thompson’s body of work, awesome. I hope this guy gets his own keys to the kingdom at some point and gets to make an actual television show that blows people’s minds.
Back to my original point: I feel burned out. I feel depleted. I have another writing session I have to do today whether I feel like or not, and a part of me is like: “I’ve got to produce something, again? I just produced something yesterday! I just produced something two hours ago!” And that’s not good. It should be about the process, not about the end-game. But I’ve come to find out I’m a very results-driven person. Like, extremely. And as a result I’m just like miserable, all the time. Maybe not miserable as much anymore, but if the end-game isn’t perfect, it’s cause for getting kerfluffled. Whereas I feel like if you’re a process-oriented person, I feel like you have a tendency to be a lot happier because it’s about the doing, the moment, the adjustments, the flexibility. Anything that’s part of the doing is the right thing.
Am I cut out for this? Am I cut out for this work? Can you do this work if you’re not cut out for it? Should I be doing it? Again, I feel like it’s important to chronicle these conflicting thoughts and the self-doubt to show future artists who might also be doubting themselves that this process is normal, and isn’t indicative of future success/limited prospects and shouldn’t stop you from making art if you want to. It shouldn’t stop you from making that thing if you feel it’s really important.
I’m feeling less burned out after listening to the first Jellyfish album while blogging. I think it’s weird and wonderful and cool. Thanks to Clay Pigeon for playing a song of theirs one morning.