Once again, the prodigal son returns. I'm no more certain that moniker fits than I am that it doesn't. Anyway, welcome to my life.
After months away, I wander back to this thing I started, and like so many times before I created a framework with the potential to do, God knows what, and I let it linger. And linger. And linger.
I've been publicly journaling since the days of MySpace. Hell, I grew a pretty decent fanbase back then off of my writing, but there wasn't the celebrity involved then as there is with social media today. I was ahead of my time. That my be revisionist history to a degree, but I doubt it.
I'm learning to treat self doubt like a sneeze. The thoughts creep up, give a little bother, then I am able to blow them off and move along as though it never happened. Sometimes the thoughts hang about, but like a series of sneezes, whether two, 12 or 20, I trust that once it's done it will be done. Generally, it is.
So, with this new found freedom I return to this place I carved out for myself, where I figured I would warehouse old content and forge new, unknown designs of my mind's creation. It sits here like a lump of clay, waiting to be wetted and worked into something, anything. I am aware this is my M.O., and I am working to change it.
What I would love to discover is the vision I know exists in my soul. I know it is there. I catch glimpses of it. I hear it, like characters in a book I have yet to write or scenes from a movie I have yet to make. So, do I begin writing, or filming, or sketching? Do I create a YouTube and fill it with content hoping something - anything - takes off? How about the podcast? Resurrect So Goes It, or keep laser focused on Quelled Demons? Is there space for both, plus my creative efforts with my full-time j-o-b? That is a lot of bandwidth firing all the time. Yet, why not? What the hell else am I doing these days?
I work. I eat and sleep. I throw hours away scrolling on social media and watching YouTube, albeit I do watch a lot of educational content, historical and scientific documentaries and such, but to what end? I'm not in academia and I do not work in either of those fields. I suppose the knowledge gained informs my art somewhat, anthropologically, perhaps.
I know. We've all got questions and the few answers we receive tend to only lead to more questions. Maybe that is why they are still airing that show on the History Channel where they keep digging up this island off the coast of Nova Scotia, yet they never find anything. Because, it is never truly about the goal - unless you happen to discover millions in buried treasure - but rather it is all about the journey.
Great. An hour of concentrated writing and introspection and I've arrived at the same conclusion found on a motivational poster tacked on a poorly papered wall in a dentist's office in 1992: The wealth is in the journey itself.