Work, Procrastination and Compulsion.
The last of the tobacco has been inhaled and filtered through inebriated lungs. Intoxication fueled by an eight dollar six pack of a deleted beer line. It’s time to get back to work.
My life cycles like this: Work as an obsessive compulsive for as long as it takes to complete all designated tasks that I deem important and imperative, then crash and burn through a series of isolated and social activities that cater to extreme escapism… and it’s time to get back to work.
My work consists of self-directed and self-motivated projects that constantly evolve within my tumultuous and hairy head. Be they film, art, comedy, literature, music or performance orientated, these creations are restless in my mind from the moment I wake until that moment in the very early hours of the next morning when I finally crash. I can vaguely recall maybe two times this year that I have actively submitted to the idea that it was time to go to bed and simply sleep. Even the suggestion that I have a ‘switch off and stop working’ period is a fallacy I portray to make myself feel better about spending a few weeks contemplating my next line of creative action. Although my body may become less active, it is here that my mind really goes to work on everything that is imaginable and potentially next on the list of ‘important and imperative’ things to do.
There was a time where I learned to quiet my mind, and I’m certain that my ideas were less informed and incomplete. There was a time when I tried to pursue just a limited amount of projects, and I found myself in stress and bothered for not fulfilling my own desire to prolifically create.
And so here I am, ready to take on the next imperative bout. With all these ideas that fuel my songwriting, filmmaking, writing and performance it quickly becomes difficult to not only complete all set tasks with their needed and appropriate attentions, but it’s also near impossible to keep track and hold of them all at once. Even the simple task of keeping an online presence (Oh, the terrible woes of the First World) can be daunting and surprisingly time consuming at times. One must be relentlessly stringent when considering their mark here on the interwebs, more so than the outside real world where shallow commentary and drunken banter and behaviour can be quickly forgotten, forgiven and contained within small social circles. The internet NEVER forgets and it stores your mistakes for all to revel. Now Google will always be there to help confirm the sordid details of that one stupid thing you posted six years ago. That one misinformed action that may have been quickly forgotten in the world made of flesh and bone, or at least kept for an appropriate speech at a celebratory reception where your dick headed behavior may be celebrated as hilarious in retrospect.
Fix those lyrics, write that story, finish that song, update the website, keep a healthy relationship with your wife and friends, catch that movie at the cinema (a strangely high priority for me), respond to online correspondence, book the next tour, make art and exhibit, edit and upload films, contemplate ethics and your admittedly small role on Earth and in time, exercise, visit your grandmother, clean the house, get horrendously drunk for days on end.
Just a snippet of an ever revolving list of things to do, and I admit that I am confused by the things that I did. What is the purpose of all this mark making?
Be them the alphabet characters that make up this sentence, the strokes of paint on a canvas or the unintelligible tantrums of my on stage performance; I struggle to put it all into any comprehensive perspective. What am I trying to communicate by behaving in this manner?
It’s a deeply staggering question that I find myself returning to over and over again but I barely have time to contemplate it any further than a quick surface screening as there are songs to write, words to type, films to make and performances to be honed.
Once again it is time to act on these compulsions; it’s time to rid myself of these running thoughts by once again actualizing my running consciousness. It’s time to stop smoking and start chewing gum again. It’s time to switch off the gaming console and switch on the camera. Stop thinking and start writing. It’s time to work again.