"A mind adrift in a sea of its own making is far more interesting than a mind following a trail of hyperlinks."
Over the weekend I read this beautifully written essay on Kinfolk. It grapples with the idea of really, truly disconnecting—not necessarily in a tech sense...more like allowing yourself to do absolutely nothing. It's a really interesting thing to think about. Even when I'm doing something so basic as reading a book I can be hyper aware of the act in and of itself; what it looks like and the image I'm projecting by doing it. Like, instead of reading this book should I Instagram it next to a bowl of artisanal granola? Do I have any artisanal granola? Can I make my own, really quickly? Maybe I should buy a book on how to make artisanal granola at home and read that. In all seriousness I find it often really difficult to get lost in a good book. Every time I reach a new chapter it's like, ok, finished that portion—what's next? Am I continuing on? How many pages is that? Just being and forgetting is a kind of challenge. Just going to bed and not going to bed after I check all the apps on my phone ("Only two new likes!? You're all sluts") requires a good bit of will power.
And I'll own up to being a bit compulsive about these things. I routinely check on my stats here and there, all over the place. Who favorited my tweet? Has anyone pinned anything from my blog? Do I have any new Facebook fans? I can't even remember what life was like before I had all these running tallies going in my mind, which I guess is this weird side effect of digitization. Everything is quantified, everything is stats. Worth—even self-worth—can feel like little more than a numbers game.
As someone with a frequently updated Internet web log, I think one of my biggest issues with all this is getting my money's worth, so to speak, instead of just feeling frantic. You could call it bringing things full circle. It's like, ok, so I followed the hyperlink, I read the article, I read the related article, I watched the movie on Netflix—now why did that all happen? What was that urge? Is there a theme? A common thread? Now what do I have to say about this? Sometimes it doesn't lead to anything, but I'd like to think that consuming so much has made me think twice about stylistic choices I make in my own work. Of course, this has nothing to do with disconnecting, in fact, it sounds like just the opposite...so I'm just gonna end this here and go read a book. I'm not going to tell you which one—just let your imagination run wild. Photos Jessica Viscius (top; click her name and check out her site it's pretty awesssome) and Spinning Pieces Flickr (bottom, click for source).
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