Monday, July 14, 2014

Text heavy

     I have this problem with writing on the internet. It's a complete distraction. It requires being on a computer which puts me in contact with social media. I'm not the only one who has these issues of productivity vs. non-productivity in the environment of social media. The experience can certainly be addicting. Lately I've become increasingly aware of the sequence and range of feelings associated with the act of engaging on the internet and it's put me on this path of dissecting (or "overthinking" as some people I know refer to it) what's actually happening in my tiny brain and how I come to fall into a funk about myself as a result. It's all about the patterns. Get an idea to write about or an image to put up, a topic to discuss or throw out there, and in my head I can grab parts of sentences and paragraphs to flesh out later. Go to the iPad or desktop computer to get ready to write and just check email or the deadly Facebook account. And that's where it all goes south, the motivation dissapates like the engery of a wave on a beach after it's crashed. Instead, I find myself scrolling through picture after picture, only 1/10th of which interests me. I jump in with a smart-ass comment or two. I find articles that seem interesting but can only read a small portion before I feel like I'm wasting time. And I am. One, two, three hours later and I've accomplished nothing I set out to do, writing-wise. And physically, I'm at complete odds with my studio work.
     I wondered, why do I socialize on FB? In regular life, reality life, I never socialized that often with that many people at once anyway so doesn't it stand to reason that the constant contact and access to information would create an overload? No wonder my meditation sessions are heavily punctuatued with monkey brain moments. Too much information packed too densely to process. It cramps my concentration, focus and creativity. Nothing gets to gel and reassemble into epiphanies, conclusions and insights. I find myself pondering wistfully over memories of the days when I had pen-pals using actual pens and sheets of paper. Time moved more deliberately. Nowadays, it seems life must mimic high-speed computer trading on Wall Street and why? What is gained from it except more, more, more and then the cicuits overload. 
     One of my FB people on my list recently announced a "sabbatical" as it were, from FB and the computer in general. I love when peope announce shit like that. I find the motivation to announce, "I'M LEAVING NOW. DON'T PANIC, I'M NOT DEAD, IT'S JUST TEMPORARY," amusing. I think we become so enamored of the illusion of the specific kind of reality that digital communication can provide that we fall into thinking if we don't see someone on the internet ALL THE TIME, they might be dead. Closure is a funny thing. Those of us on the internet using various means of social media and digital communication (and there are plenty of human bengs who do not!) have become nothing more than monkeys pressing the stainless steel bar over and over again for stimulation and reward. Not that this method of communication doesn't have its benefits and advantages. Afterall... she said typing on the iPad to later publish to her blog... So what does this address? A need for me to communicate? A need to be heard? Who is listening anyway? Does it matter to me?
     I've made a couple of changes in my life routine recently. One is that I'm reading more paper books. I find that I miss the way I glean information from real books reflected off a page rather than illuminated on screen. Defintiely easier on my eyes. I also comprehend and retain the information on a deeper level in my brain. The information I get off the internet seems to be scattered and as if I read only the headline. Frankly, that's probabaly all I really do. The other thing I'be been doing is more writing in my journals. I have several. I keep them all going concurrently. Some are nonsense words and phrases, phonetic spellings of sounds in my head, others are more like traditional journals, some are strictly art related, general ideas and specific projects. Maybe it's a fetish of mine but it helps me dump what's in my head. It also makes me want to write again from time to time. Perhaps by the time I'm in my seventies, I'll get on that book I've been encouraged to write. 
     Lastly, though, this blog thing is an unsmooth process. If I type on the iPad, I can't upload pictures because the app I use won't resize the images and doesn't access the controls to do so unless I'm using the desktop computer so I often put off blog posts about things that require pictures. Stupid but there it is. Something seeemingly simple becaines a pain in the ass because I have to jump back and forth from room to room or between keyborads just to make a post. Instead, I do nothing. Or get on FB again.

Maybe I'll do text for a while.

Studio time.

1 comment:

  1. You always, always make me think. That makes you stand out from most of what I can read on the Internet even if you write sporadically, even if I read sporadically.