Full to Bursting

On occasion, when I see something artistic and wonderful, I feel this strange compulsion to create something artistic and wonderful of my own. Rarely does this go anywhere, partly because I'm inconstant and the feeling passes, partly because I'm secretly not that artistic (like, at all) most days, and largely because I get so overwhelmed with the need to act on my impulse that I end up doing nothing except staring slack-jawed at whatever it was that brought this feeling on in the first place.

Have I written about this before? I think maybe I have, but I'm too lazy to look back through my handful of blog posts to verify. Oh well, here it is again.

Maybe someday I'll make something so beautiful that it'll purge all this longing. Somehow, though, I doubt Nature would allow the void that would be left behind to exist for long before refilling it with ever-stronger desire. Perhaps that's part of what keeps me going, an indelible element of my identity. A blessing and a curse, I suppose.

By the way, check out the band Discovery, if you haven't already. They're a side project of Ra Ra Riot and Vampire Weekend. They're weird, but strangely awesome. You'll see what I mean. Thanks, Callen McLaughlin and Jeff Olson, for turning me on to them.

Your Homework

If you are reading this, your assignment is to research Paulo Coelho, if you're not familiar with him already. I've only read one of his books (The Alchemist), but it forever changed the way I view God and the world around me. His language is so simple, so beautiful, so timeless. He's an example of that rare individual who can combine accessibility, depth, and beauty in his writings.

Here's his blog: http://paulocoelhoblog.com/

Enjoy.

Tongue-Tied

Today I really don't feel that I have anything to say.

I get this way a lot. Which is part of the reason for my infrequent posting (along with being busy and procrastinating). Maybe I'm too focused on being able to say something revolutionary or profound or "right." I know that's a potential pitfall in my life that I have to be careful to avoid. I truly love learning, as corny as that may sound. I love classes and books and holding deep philosophical conversations with people who intrigue me (of which there are many). One of the problems that presents is I often refuse to allow myself to be ignorant, to not know. I almost always take special care to formulate my words, whether spoken or printed, to demonstrate linguistic skill, eclectic academic expertise, and lofty ideals.

Sometimes I think what I really need is to just let go and express myself (or refrain from expressing, gasp!) as I truly am, undecorated and unfiltered.

My Junk

I've realized I'm a bit of a packrat.

The weird thing about it is how methodical and organized I am in my packratness. I was going through my room at my parents' house packing for college and I realized just how much stuff I have from over the years. Some of it is sentimental, but a large portion is just old junk that I've packed up neatly and stuffed in some random corner to rot for all eternity.

Not only that, but I'm an electronic packrat. My photo folder is meticulously organized, with folders upon sub-folders upon sub-sub-folders, but I have a hard time culling photos after a high-volume shoot. I have no problem tossing the out of focus and over- or underexposed ones, but I will agonize over which of two nearly identical photos of a certain subject I want to keep and will usually just give up and keep both.

The worst part is that I keep waiting for life changes (moving houses, getting a new computer, etc.) to motivate me to clean things out. Since my junk is kept from interfering with my productivity, I ignore it until it reaches critical mass. Usually I do pretty well in the foresight department, but this is one area of my life where I'm operating on a purely reactionary maintenance schedule.

I'm Very, Very Sneaky, Sir

I've noticed a sly trick that I pull on people.

Whenever I'm in my tiny little Texas hometown, I talk to locals in a subtle but noticeable Central Texas accent. This happens especially when I'm trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about even though I'm completely lost.

For example, today I went to get my tires checked out because I was told when my car was recently inspected that some of them needed replacing. I drove down to a local tire shop and talked to the secretary about getting new tires. She walked out with me and inspected my current setup, asking all kinds of questions about tire sizes which I did not have the slightest idea how to answer. As the conversation progressed and she weighed the pros and cons of big and small tires for me while I stood wide-eyed and nodding like an idiot, I noticed my Burnet accent slowly creeping into my voice in an effort to blend in. My attempts at social camouflage were futile, however. I could tell she could see right through my paltry show of tire knowledge.

Does the trick work? Hard to say. It usually seems to produce the desired effect of masking my ignorance. I figure it can't hurt in any case. Plus, it always happens subconsciously, so I don't feel guilty about hiding behind my drawl.

At least I can give you this warning: if you're ever talking to me and you notice my accent slowly increasing during the course of the conversation, it's probably because we've entered intellectual/linguistic territory in which I feel less than supremely confident.

...And We're Back!

So I haven't posted in a while. I just realized my number of followers almost exceeds my total posts, which is a bit ridiculous. Does that sound like I'm bragging? Well, I'm not. I'm actually self-deprecating.

What am I going to do about this disturbing reality? Make a Labor Day resolution, like any good American (it's the closest holiday I could think of). Here's what I'm going to [attempt to] do:

• Post more.
• Make smaller posts.
• Get more autobiographical, in hopes of making my blog more accessible. To that end, I'm also getting rid of the Rancor guarding the blog's doorway. 450 cool points to everyone who gets that reference.
• Not be so cerebral all the time. I recognize that using the word "cerebral" is itself a tad cerebral, but what can I say? I like irony. Especially the irony of the fact that this post promising to make more posts doesn't really count as an actual post.

Keep me in your prayers, America. This seemingly trivial undertaking is actually monumentally difficult for someone with such a terrible habit of starting things and not following through with them.