A weed is really just a plant out of place.
In a man's cornfield, a plant is a weed.
The same plant in your yard can be a flower.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Soul-Sucking Job with Money Vs the Alternative
My wife believes that I should work at a soul-sucking job just to provide food, shelter and clothing for my family. Yet she comes home every day complaining -- and sometimes crying -- about her soul-sucking job, which she has taken to put food on the table.
She seems to think it's better that we teach our children to be emotionally unhappy in the world, rather than what I exemplify, which is to strive for your dreams no matter the cost.
We differ on this, and I have to leave this toxic environment where she makes me wrong for my choice to instill an enriched emotional life versus a financially poor physical life.
She has always complained about money, about the unfairness of the capitalist competitive nature, but she also has always complained about not having enough. It’s like living with Janus, a two-faced person who will never be pleased no matter the course.
I must stick to my principals.
I will not subjugate myself for the rest of my life for the almighty dollar.
I will strive to deliver art that helps people enrich their core being.
And it’s not so much that we disagree, but that she says my beliefs are wrong, that my beliefs are not in the best interest of the family, that I should work at an unsatisfying job for the sake of my children -- even if I constantly complain about said unsatisfying job to my children and family.
She seems to believe that this scenario is better for nurturing human potential than actually suffering deprivation while going after an ideal dream human life.
She seems to think it's better that we teach our children to be emotionally unhappy in the world, rather than what I exemplify, which is to strive for your dreams no matter the cost.
We differ on this, and I have to leave this toxic environment where she makes me wrong for my choice to instill an enriched emotional life versus a financially poor physical life.
She has always complained about money, about the unfairness of the capitalist competitive nature, but she also has always complained about not having enough. It’s like living with Janus, a two-faced person who will never be pleased no matter the course.
I must stick to my principals.
I will not subjugate myself for the rest of my life for the almighty dollar.
I will strive to deliver art that helps people enrich their core being.
And it’s not so much that we disagree, but that she says my beliefs are wrong, that my beliefs are not in the best interest of the family, that I should work at an unsatisfying job for the sake of my children -- even if I constantly complain about said unsatisfying job to my children and family.
She seems to believe that this scenario is better for nurturing human potential than actually suffering deprivation while going after an ideal dream human life.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Why Do We Hate Unions?
What makes me angry about the world is the seeming onslaught of a business mentality.
There seems to be little room in the world today to just be an artist. To create for the love of creating. To create something that moves others.
It seems that everyone wants you to notice them for the sake of being noticed. Get more likes. Get more click-thrus. Get more virtual friends.
Even traditional liberal outlets such as NPR have programs dedicated to the interests of business. Focus on the Dow Jones and Nasdaq has supplanted any focus on unions.
Unions have been so smeared by corporate interests that it will be a long time before they regain credibility in the eyes of many.
Yet, we will still affix credibility on multiple corporate and political interests despite the myriad scandals involving those entities.
Corporate and political scandals have cost Americans more than any union corruption. Yet, the corporate PR machine has done a marvelous job at deflecting attention away from its soiled self. We sill vilify unions.
There seems to be little room in the world today to just be an artist. To create for the love of creating. To create something that moves others.
It seems that everyone wants you to notice them for the sake of being noticed. Get more likes. Get more click-thrus. Get more virtual friends.
Even traditional liberal outlets such as NPR have programs dedicated to the interests of business. Focus on the Dow Jones and Nasdaq has supplanted any focus on unions.
Unions have been so smeared by corporate interests that it will be a long time before they regain credibility in the eyes of many.
Yet, we will still affix credibility on multiple corporate and political interests despite the myriad scandals involving those entities.
Corporate and political scandals have cost Americans more than any union corruption. Yet, the corporate PR machine has done a marvelous job at deflecting attention away from its soiled self. We sill vilify unions.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Moving Past Imperfection
The shape of tomorrow is decided by how we fashion the amorphous ideas of today.
To fashion an idea, we must first get it out of our head and down onto paper.
Reading it makes it more real, more concrete. Reading our ideas allows us to elaborate on them.
I have a head full of ideas but an empty bank account.
But also important is to follow thru as much as possible on ideas.
I have hundreds of files containing inchoate ideas. For some reason, I get fearful when I have to expand an idea past its present imperfection to its newest incarnation, which may or may not be imperfect.
The thought of perfecting something is paralyzing. What if I fail? What if I don't know its still imperfect, and I put it out into the world only to be ridiculed?
I can't stand being ridiculed.
To fashion an idea, we must first get it out of our head and down onto paper.
Reading it makes it more real, more concrete. Reading our ideas allows us to elaborate on them.
I have a head full of ideas but an empty bank account.
But also important is to follow thru as much as possible on ideas.
I have hundreds of files containing inchoate ideas. For some reason, I get fearful when I have to expand an idea past its present imperfection to its newest incarnation, which may or may not be imperfect.
The thought of perfecting something is paralyzing. What if I fail? What if I don't know its still imperfect, and I put it out into the world only to be ridiculed?
I can't stand being ridiculed.
The Silence Smiles
The stomach growls, the head aches, the clock ticks, the fan blows, the birds chirp, the silence smiles. The end of the day, meeting deadlines. Now, home.
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