Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Creativity Curve

When you are young, as in late teens and first couple of decades of adulthood, you tend to want others to know what you feel inside, to recognize your ingenuity; you want to be seen and understood.   It drives you to write, start enterprises, live.

After enough time being inundated with false information and petty emotions, one tends to lose that drive which fueled that zest for life.  I consider the entrepreneurial spirit a symptom of a zest for life. Writing, creating, inventing, building. All that.  Not everyone is programmed with the same false premises about life and themselves, or to the same degree.  So any specifics drawn from my generalities could be in error.

I resist using French cliches to describe the phenomenon of which I write.  I speak some form of English and I hate it when people throw in paragraphs in Latin, or various phrases from other languages (usually French), just to let the reader know that, though he/she/it/none/all/trans is the only one in the room, he/she/it/none/all/trans is not the smartest one in the room.  The author is, of course.

If punching the written word would, through the mysterious machinations of voodoo, translate into the author feeling a punch in the nose, there would be many bloody noses out there.   Many.

As I get older I tend to care less about being understood.  And I absolutely don't want to really be known.  If you knew me, you'd have as low an opinion of my worth as I often do.

In the spirit of the new year, or perhaps an early Lent, I will endeavor to remove the "in" from my way too prevalent state of insanity.  So, with luck, I will be visiting a state of sanity soon.

The drive to create has dwindled down to a memory.  And now I am not quite so despondent that so much of business is half thought out, ignores collateral damage, and is so in bed with crooked government nonsense as I was before.   Probably because I am doing nothing that would be affected.

Most very cool stuff is initiated by people in their twenties.  They are less trapped by the financial system and our system which still holds on to the whole feudal model.   When you come down to it, people, or some kinds of people, cannot really let go of the concept of slavery.  Not along racial divides, just slavery in concept.

That is why companies often act like they own employees.  And treat workers as capital, like machines.   They have their useful life, depreciation, etc.  It makes sense in an arithmetic sort of way.
It is not working overall.  Only in pockets here and there.

I have no doubt that people would trade the lives of others if it meant keeping their 40k/year job.  Or 20k/year.  It has always amazed me.  The less they pay the more inclined they are to see you as chattel, property.

In my situation, creativity and enterprise are my main hope of surviving any length of time.  Yet I hardly care enough to shake the fog and the freeze ups, and get to work on the simple things that could yield betterment on all fronts.  This little writing fit is an effort to confront myself so I react by saying, "What's to lose?  I will do XYZQTLBGTOTHER and overcome this mental block and freeze of action."  That is the hope.  Imaginary binds which hold me down.  Is that nuts or what?  OK.  I will quit being a wimp.

No, I won't.  I doubt I will ever do what I ought.  We shall see.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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