Creating content

Where does content come from? There is so much being published in the internet. One hour of video is uploaded to YouTube every second. Blogs, podcasts, artwork – all flying around digitally.

How do you sort?

As a consumer, what are the important pieces?

As a creator, are you reaching your audience?

No matter how much you’re creating, or posting, or consuming, it all starts one at a time.

Production Coordinators

In a phone conversation recently, I was tentatively offered a POC position. I suppose it was more feeling out my interest level, but it holds potential. I’ve only been relying on a limited amount of my creative fields-experience, and other than the occasional theatrical gig I’m not doing much with either my resume or my degree. While sales can be challenging and educational, it sometimes feels less-than-rewarding.

So now I look towards the future – the mountain I’ve neglected in recent years. What my friend a few weeks ago called my three-year wake-up call. Perhaps that’s exactly what it was. And now that I’m producing – this blog, the nascent video-game media company, and a couple of other projects, for example – it’s important to remember that like begets like.

Finding time to be creative

You want to do this, be it paint that canvas, write that book, make that movie, or learn that instrument. You want to do that so you can feel the accomplishment you’ve known you longed to feel from the time you first had that thought, probably so long ago.

What no one told you is that it’s very rare indeed to find time to make the art that we long to make. Time isn’t a commodity we just have in abundance. Time is finite, and we have more and more ways to fill it. Five centuries ago it was work, sleep, and family. One century ago it was work, sleep, and family. Even fifty years ago, it could have been work, sleep, and family. Now, the possibilities are endless.

So, no. Don’t find time to be creative. Make time. Schedule it in, and guard it as you would anything else important. It’s the only way to get it done.

What does this mean?

Half the time, I’m not sure of the results.

The other half of the time, I’m sure, but I’m wrong about results better than 50% when I am sure.

So, really, I know very little. I’m just winging it. But aren’t we all?

I don’t know what programs are going to be successful. I don’t know which blog posts are going to be read. I don’t know who tunes in to my radio broadcasts, or if anyone downloads the podcast.

But, all in all, it’s an easy way to put something out there.

Steven Pressfield would say it’s doing the work. Seth Godin would call it “shipping art”. Some may just call it product.

But that’s showing up.

And really, that is what it’s all about. Showing up. Because decisions are made by people who show up.

Memento Mori

Latin for “remember you have to die.”

This crosses my mind. I had just reread The Icarus Deception by Seth Godin, and he discusses this principle. Art is transitory, all things come to an end, etc. etc.

I’m telling myself this as I look at the cracked face of my new Fossil Q smart watch. It’s a small crack. I banged it on the corner of a keyboard while I was at rehearsal. It is irksome, to say the least.

My first inclination is to send it back (actually, the warranty might cover it, and I’ll certainly check it out). But after the first few moments of discomfort over a broken, fairly-expensive item, I get to look at it from a higher elevation. Memento mori – remember you have to die.

We all die. Everything we know ends. Even the seeming permanence of stone and mountain is but a transitory state, eventually eroded away, though we will certainly be long gone by the time the great mountains have been made flat.

Things of beauty are beautiful because beauty cannot last.

Art is calling

There’s a piece I’m familiar with, a song called Art Is Calling for Me, lyrics by Harry B. Smith, music by Victor Herbert. It’s a fun sort of song, for a soprano (maybe a mezzo). Every once in a while that music will pop into my head. I first heard it in a concert, sung by a young woman who would enter and, after several years, leave my life. I think of it tonight.

I’ve grown fond of the yoga studio where I practice, as well as the people there. Once a month they do an open house, with live entertainment, food & drink, and, yes, artwork. It reminds me of setting up exhibitions for Orange County, back in a previous occupation.

In my seclusion, or self-imposed monastic existence (as I’ve taken to calling it), I’ve forgotten how much was a part of my life, and just how much I enjoy it.

Picasso was probably my favorite, and I did have a chance to see original sketches when curating the exhibitions. While in Amsterdam, I visited the Van Gogh museum. This is one of his that I really enjoyed.

Mostly now I read and write. I go to the movies maybe once a week, or every other week. But, slowly, I’m reentering the world of the arts. Visiting museums. Seeing shows. Listening to music that for a long time was painful to hear. Singing music that I hadn’t practiced in a long time. I guess art is calling…