It’s been a while since I’ve had a functioning website. Over the past year and a half, many things have shifted in my life that have made it difficult to create and participate in creation like I used to. The practicalities of life have for a time taken hold of a majority of my time and energy. From an outside perspective, it may not seem that way. In fact, in many ways, it may appear that I’m creating more often than I did before, especially on the video side of things. Yet I can’t help but feel that, in pursuit of survival and in surrenderance to comfort, many aspects of myself I once held most dear have fallen to the wayside. Their timeslot shrunk.

Now, after a long decline in activity, I am eager to find the space to resume the prioritization of the artistic drive, and reclaim the aspects of life which were from the outset most precious to me—namely, the will to meaning and the joy in creation. There is a degree to which the fear of failure has held me in an awkward stall. Despite the fact failure in itself makes good progress, that the acceptence of failure is a greater joy than having not made any attempt, at some point I found the joy of creation replaced by a rampant dissatisfaction with my own work, both in terms of its quality and quantity.

Perhaps that has something to do with the variety of mediums I find myself drawn to: visuals, sonics, words, and their interplay—meaning like a thread. After all, how could someone so strung out in so many different directions ever hope to compare to the single rope, long held taut? I’ve struggled from the outset to describe my path. I’ve struggled to feel worthy of calling myself any one of the things I claim at being. Am I a writer? A photographer? A sound designer? A cameraman? In comparison, it feels disingenuous to claim at being any one of those things, when I’ve always been on-and-off, no sooner focused at one task than on to the next.

If I’ve learned anything in my short twenty-five years of life, though, it’s that, curiously, time away often makes for just as wise a teacher as time at the job; that, sometimes, no matter how hard you try at solving a problem, the stars only become visible after you’ve stepped away from the light; that breadth is a depth of different fathoms. It’s the same reason we come up with repartees after the conversation has long ended: the ‘right’ reply is more often than not a matter of perspective.

In the same manner, sometimes it doesn’t matter how many times someone tells you the truth, that ‘life is a winding road’; because even if the words are audible, the truth can only be understood when it is constituted by matters with which we are already familiar. A word can only mean when we have seen what is meant, when we have worn the many shoes and stood the many trials that are to become the source of our internal world of shadows.

So, on that note—the note of redesign—I have proceeded with a redesign of my website, in alignment with a refreshed reflection of my self. I’m still not sure who or what I am, or if I have any right to ‘officially’ call myself anything. But to the extent that one who writes is a writer, that one who creates is a creator, I am certain I will continue to become a little bit more of myself, whoever he is, day by day, even if the path ahead is long, steep, and circuitous.

I don’t know entirely what that means, yet, if not an anxious homecoming to ‘making the attempt,’ but I know, at least, that I mean to renew my will to meaning, and hope to have more proof of it going forward.

You may find a hidden link here or there that goes nowhere. A button that doesn’t do anything. What can I say? Creation is a process.

More soon.