Motivation - a rant
If you want a happy update from me, don't read this entry. Check again later to see if I am up to anything new.
This week is being spent mostly walking around the house in circles or grocery shopping for snacks and prepared foods - because cooking something fresh requires inspiration and someone to share it with who likes some of the same foods I like... or who at least will not complain about my choices without suggesting a good alternative.
I'm having a hard time finding motivation to do anything with myself this month. There is no work anywhere and that should mean I have all kinds of time to follow personal projects now but I can't think of a single thing to do. I've got plenty of art supplies in my office but feel uninspired to do anything. Maybe it's the cramped space. Maybe it's the lack of new experiences and the shrinking memory of old experiences as they fade into the distance. Maybe it's just my general lack of excitement and frustration with my own loss of skill - from lack of practice. Maybe it's the lack of external resources.
The TV and internet are too filled with hysteria from all sides to get a grip on any perspective. Everyone is an asshole these days. Maybe it's the complete lack of sex for years and the feeling that everything about me is unattractive. I need a field trip with the camera and notebook but not today because I work my 4-5 hours a week tonight.
Living here reminds me of a tragic experiment using college student volunteers many decades ago. Scientists locked them in a room for weeks with no outside stimulous like light, sound, other human beings, etc. The unintended neurological damage was permanent. I fear that a similar lack of stimulation is killing me here.
I made two friends here that I occassionally do things with - an artist and her husband. They are good and interesting people who have very busy lives with work and children and grandchildren and elderly parents. I don't know any other artists or musicians or writers. I haven't found any gathering places for people of a similar mind. I have tried to do things with neighbors but they all have no hobbies to speak of and they seem to have no interests outside of their children and grandchildren. Everyone has children and grandchildren here except for a couple of recluses that I'm friendly with but who are uncomfortable stepping outside their homes for anything. It's an odd culture here. I wish I could at least work and save money for a trip but I can't even get arrested here.
I need a new haunt. This ghost is bored and lonely.
This week is being spent mostly walking around the house in circles or grocery shopping for snacks and prepared foods - because cooking something fresh requires inspiration and someone to share it with who likes some of the same foods I like... or who at least will not complain about my choices without suggesting a good alternative.
I'm having a hard time finding motivation to do anything with myself this month. There is no work anywhere and that should mean I have all kinds of time to follow personal projects now but I can't think of a single thing to do. I've got plenty of art supplies in my office but feel uninspired to do anything. Maybe it's the cramped space. Maybe it's the lack of new experiences and the shrinking memory of old experiences as they fade into the distance. Maybe it's just my general lack of excitement and frustration with my own loss of skill - from lack of practice. Maybe it's the lack of external resources.
The TV and internet are too filled with hysteria from all sides to get a grip on any perspective. Everyone is an asshole these days. Maybe it's the complete lack of sex for years and the feeling that everything about me is unattractive. I need a field trip with the camera and notebook but not today because I work my 4-5 hours a week tonight.
Living here reminds me of a tragic experiment using college student volunteers many decades ago. Scientists locked them in a room for weeks with no outside stimulous like light, sound, other human beings, etc. The unintended neurological damage was permanent. I fear that a similar lack of stimulation is killing me here.
I made two friends here that I occassionally do things with - an artist and her husband. They are good and interesting people who have very busy lives with work and children and grandchildren and elderly parents. I don't know any other artists or musicians or writers. I haven't found any gathering places for people of a similar mind. I have tried to do things with neighbors but they all have no hobbies to speak of and they seem to have no interests outside of their children and grandchildren. Everyone has children and grandchildren here except for a couple of recluses that I'm friendly with but who are uncomfortable stepping outside their homes for anything. It's an odd culture here. I wish I could at least work and save money for a trip but I can't even get arrested here.
I need a new haunt. This ghost is bored and lonely.