revjim.net

Remember that time when I said I would be posting long, personal entries each and every day for an entire month as an exercise in testing readership and feedback, to examine new means for personal growth, and in participation of NaBloPoMo? Hahahaha. Wasn't that a funny joke?

well worn path

(click to enlarge)

This path made of bricks leads to an old home near the center of town in Marfa, TX.

Truly, I intend to make the best attempt I can so I'm not giving up yet. My problem these last few days is, of course, that same little thing that plagues all people who try to write about their life as it happens: The more busy and interesting life is, the less time one has to write. Friday and Saturday both were days on which I left the house near 6am and didn't get home until after 11pm. Add in an hour to get ready in the morning and an hour to take care of basic household tasks when I get home, and all that's left is about five hours, during which I am asleep.

When my schedule is this packed a lot of things suffer: my contact with other people, phone calls, cleaning the house, photography and photographic commitments, meeting deadlines, finding time to relax, and, obviously, my personal writing and reflection time. Case in point: I'm reading "James Frey's":http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Frey "A Million Little Pieces" (yes, I am aware that it isn't an entirely factual account of anything at all) and I've only got about thirty enthralling pages left that I just can't seem to find the time to get through.

But the truth is, I prefer to be busy. Ideally, I'd have a mostly full schedule with just enough holes, hobbies, and friends to do something spontaneous from time to time. But, I'd choose utterly busy over utterly bored any day. I had a conversation last night with Jess and a few friends regarding a very similar topic. The meat of the conversation can be summed up in the following question: given the opportunity to take a seven day dream vacation where would you go and what would you do? Regardless of how you answer the question, in most cases it can be placed into one of two categories: relax or adventure.

No matter how nice the spa, how luxurious the hotel, or how fantastic the food, give me the choice and I'd choose adventure over relaxation any time. I argue that, if I'm going to relax, I can do that in town. Massage therapy and mud baths are available right around the corner, and my bookshelf, television, or DVD player is quite capable of providing hours and hours of entertainment that isn't in the least bit physically demanding. If relaxation is what I need — and sometimes, I do — I can get it right here at home. But if I'm going out of my way to pack my bags and get in a car, plain, train, or boat, I'm going for the adventure.

Sometimes, however, life does begin to wear me down a bit and relaxation is required. More often than not, my body makes that choice before my mind and the rest of me just agrees to follow along. Today is a good example of that. I got up with the best of intentions. Despite a moderately late night, I was up and out of bed by 7am. I checked my email, sent out a few photographs, started to catalog some of my more recent work, and began to make a stab at the Myscheivia photographs. Then I came downstairs for a quick breakfast and something on TV.

One thing led to another and now, 6 hours later, I'm still sitting here in the living room. I haven't dressed or showered. I have, however, watched seven episodes of House. Give me a few more hours and I'll be back to normal and ready for adventure again.

(641 words)