The Art of Being Human

Once upon a time I went to school

and did what I was told

and I learned a lot

I learned about teachers

I learned about students

I learned about schools

And I heard about a whole lot of other things

Some even seemed interesting

Some might even have been true

Outside we played sports

Inside we played boring games with numbers

Year after year I remained a prisoner

played sports

played boring games with numbers

learned about teachers and

students and schools

and did what I was told

and accepted the friendship

of all those who decided to be my friend

Going along with everything as it came to me

With all my childhood curiosity driven out

of me by my wardens

I waited waited waited

for adulthood to come along and take me away

But then Disaster Number One

or rather the Great Disaster as it was then known

We didn't know there'd be a number two

I fell

in love

And the whole world became cruel

and none of it made sense any more

I said enough is enough

I'm getting the hell

outa here

I seized adulthood

and was dragged away with it

As an adult drag-along

I did what I was told

I took the friends and lovers and jobs and promotions

which were offered me

I played the sports

But no more boring god damned games with numbers

I made a commitment

I bought a house

I found I was respected, sometimes even admired

For my ability

to go though the motions

And then Disaster Number Two

Or so I thought

I was doubly rejected.

Paid handsomely to go away

So I did the very best thing

any 31 year old could ever do

I started life all over again

Thanks to being forced into it

A bread and butter friend said to me, But Rich, 

You need to have faith in something!

So I wrote my first poem called

But I have faith

A poem about my family, friends, myself

and the expectation that the sun

will rise again tomorrow; the promise

of a new day

Thus I had discovered the blank page

and so I wrote some more

and better still, I stared at the blank page

and curiosity was born in me again

I wrote and I stared and I asked questions

and courage was born in me for the first time

I asked the biggest questions

I asked the most dangerous questions

And the horror, the horror

I discovered the possibilities

were dire, and that I

knew nothing

Except:

That thanks to some thousand or more hours

of boring games with numbers

I did know how to leave a tip

without asking my phone

So there's that

Life became an experiment

I researched, I explored, I adventured, I said YES!

I reflected, I contemplated, I searched the blank page

And truth began, ever so slowly to accrete

Distilled in my laboratory of the mind

My lab tools were the page

and the guitar and keyboard

creative models worked just like

scientific models; they isolated reality

My discoveries were solid:

The omnipotence of causality

the matrix of illusions

human duality

Illusions were dispersing

and with them superstitions

and with them fears

In came perspective, freedom

pathways to enlightenment

and the natural inevitable joy

of being human, no longer shielded from me

by the unnatural machinations of society

I seemed strange to my bread and butter friends

They warned me of liabilities, blind as they were

to opportunity

But I was choosing new friends. I spied the finest people

and I made myself the friend

I was confident and grabbing life, not waiting for it to happen

And I discovered the purpose in life: it is to design your own purpose

My own was easy and obvious: To champion harmony, over chaos

My friend Dr Lock summed up his own spiritual life in two sentences:

I was created

I create

A woman of mixed ethnicity who wore it on her face was asked

What are you?

She said I am a New Day Rising

I knew at once: Me too! That's exactly what we ALL are; we humans

We're the Cosmos' greatest potential! Most of us seem not to know it

But she knows it, and I know it, and I say: 

New Day Rising; that is my name now!

Now,

as I physically decline, perhaps only temporarily

I cannot do so much so fast

But I am well prepared to bear the siege

Some days I remember my lessons

Some days I remember my purpose

Some days I remember that I am a new day rising

I am learning how to accept help from others:

other champions of harmony

But to quote the eloquent composers Cummerford,

de la Rocha, Morello and Wilk:

Fuck you I won't do what you tell me.

Necessity is the mother...

 ... of invention. Right?

I've long thought of it as the mother of creativity. Sometimes, at least.

I'm all about creativity. To me there's no other point to life or to being human. But being creative doesn't mean that your imagination produces things out of nowhere. A mind does not just come up with random material. It thinks up things for reasons whether you can follow the causality or not.

Many times I know I need to add elements to a story but my mind is blank. What to add? Nothing occurs to me. But there's a very useful engine for creative imagining and its when there is a problem to solve.

I needed to work on a novel a decade or so ago and did not have a concept in the bag. I did have many short story ideas clamouring for attention though. So I picked three compelling ones; three simple premises I had previously come up with and listed them on the page. Three ideas. And then I said "How to bring these together into one novel?" I logically worked at the problem and what was born was probably my most excellent novel outline I have ever managed: The Transneptunians was the working title. That word, by the way, refers to any astronomical member of this star system which exists beyond the orbit of Neptune. 

I have never finished the first draft because it is still lacking a thing or two. It was about the lives and relationships of a father and daughter who never knew each other beyond the girl's toddlerhood. Every other chapter revealed the father's life from his own childhood until the defining life-changing event in his prime adulthood. And every other chapter revealed his life in reverse, from death, backwards in time, as learned by the daughter who researched his life by seeking those who knew him, as she was compelled to understand what appeared to be a tragic life after learning her biological father had died. At the end of the book the two timelines meet and the truth is revealed. The title comes from a cosmic idea concerning the process of his death, but also concerns the relationship; father and daughter whose lives revolve around each other without them meeting, like Pluto and Charon, once considered planet and moon, which revolve around each other without ever touching.

The first youth writing club I facilitated in my school volunteer days; they wanted to co-write a novel; the most ambitious option I presented to them. I had them each create their own character and their own simple story about their own character, so they could each be writing separately at home on their own early chapters of the book. My promise to them was that once we had each character on the move; their problems and pursuits rolling along, we would then figure out how to bring them all together; how to get every character into the same space in a situation; an event; that would bring about their defining moments; the climax of the novel.

Two problems: 1. They were not working fast enough as the school year swiftly ran dry. And 2. They didn't trust my promise that their seemingly unrelated stories could possible come together. And this eroded their enthusiasm without my knowledge. By the time I realized what was going on it was getting too late. I knew with certainty that we would have been able to bring it all together. And the seemingly unbridgeable distance we'd have needed to close; the apparent stretch of it, was exactly the reason I knew it could be done and be excellent. The great necessity would have been the mother of great creativity. It's too bad perhaps, that I was not more determined and didn't push harder, and didn't find a way to show them and convince them.

As I work daily on getting my new business to the launch state, I will be leaning heavily on the concept. Have I mentioned I'm going into the Dungeons & Dragons hosting business? There is a boom in D&D playing and a shortage of dungeon masters which has spawned a nascent industry: DMing for cash. I'm working on a whole new set of rulebooks; a best-practices formula which considers all previous versions of D&D resources and my own innovations; a very considerable collection of improvements. My goals are big and doable: the ultimate D&D experiences for my clients. Fun, challenging, compelling. Campaigns that are fully immersive; not glorified obstacle courses. Not a formula for player characters to fit into my story, but a fully prepared 360-degree world with possible adventures, resources, allies, opportunities and clues in every direction, where players determine their own objectives and are the prime movers in an evolving story which I discover at the same time they do. It demands a ton of preparation but I am very well-positioned for that. I've been collecting ideas and story concepts and creative elements for a long time. I have over 4000 names in my personal fantasy-themed name collection for instance.

Now, anyone could make the same claim by simply subscribing to an online resource. But it's not the same. Mine are all gold. Mine were all created or acquired within the context of my worlds. They all work. They all will resonate and not seem random. This is one example of a great many that are going to make my product fucking kick-ass.

And whatever gaps in my resources come to apparency through this evolving process: they will be created marvelously... out of necessity.

Back to work... 

Working Town

Here's a song I wrote about twelve years ago after finding the courage to give up a lucrative I.T. career and moving back to Scooterville in order to begin a life of mindfulness, creativity, charity and guidance... so I thought. Immediately there was resistance. The song was in reflection of that, an observation; in no way a rant. At least that's how it is in my memory.

I was knocked off course, though, and never really got back on the same track. I've become better at some things and worse at others, and never regained so much focus again.

The theme for poetry club this month is transformation. So I dusted this off and compiled a proper video. Looking at the result, song and video arranged over a decade apart, I can see a difference in attitude. I look back at that time with more love and forgiveness. If I was trying to blame others before, that was unwise, and I'm not anymore.

Covid19 Survival Guide: Page 11

For those times when you just can't bring yourself to be productive, or to engage in a creative project: Twenty links with excellent distraction power. Don't wait. Add them to your bookmarks at once! 

http://drawing.garden/

https://alwaysjudgeabookbyitscover.com/

http://www.omfgdogs.com/#

https://www.mapcrunch.com/

https://quickdraw.withgoogle.com/#

http://nooooooooooooooo.com/

http://whitetrash.nl

http://www.stuffonmycat.com

http://simonpanrucker.com

http://www.omglasergunspewpewpew.com/

https://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/

https://neave.com/

http://www.patience-is-a-virtue.org/

Bad Lip Reading

https://www.boredpanda.com/

https://theoatmeal.com/

https://asoftmurmur.com/

http://theonion.com

https://www.ted.com/

and finally:

https://theuselessweb.com/

... for a random useless web site.

There, Here & Everywhere

Hey hey, it’s T-day, ready or not. I am tired and trippy and trapped on the night shift, to be followed by much sleep I pray, so there is no putting this off. I will type a tiny tumble of text and let you get on with your day!

Today’s topic is thrown to us by the tidy, talented, talkative, tasteful, tactful and tactical; the tireless, tenacious, trustworthy and true, and a tad tubby; the thorough-thinking Thoughtful Educator, and it is:

Turtles

With tin can in hand I attended Poetry Corner. Such a fine variety of creative projects were shared, and then my turn: I held the orange-striped tin before me.

“I am going to creatively eat this entire box of turtles,” I said. The crowd seemed nonplussed. My god I think they believe me.

“Just kidding.” I popped off the lid and revealed 192 colorful cards inside; no chocolate caramel pecan funny-business. I explained the game I had invented. Here There & Everywhere it’s called. And there is a card for every Beatles song on every Beatles studio album.

Some of the cards are special: hero, place or widget cards, which reflect the nature of those special song titles. The hero cards have unique special privileges: Mean Mr. Mustard, Lovely Rita, Eleanor Rigby and Polythene Pam for instance. The widget cards have special powers: Maxwell’s Silver Hammer for instance. And the place cards (how lucky that the numbers of total cards and of place cards worked out so perfect) randomly placed, form the diamond-shaped array on which all other cards are stacked, in essence forming the game board.

Its a bit like the game of Concentration where you are turning up cards looking for the ones you want, but you win by collecting all the cards (songs) which complete one of their albums.

There are a few interesting parameters but that’s the gist of it. I would just like to find a way to make the game conclude a bit faster without changing its nature too much. The group was actually useful in making a few suggestions which I have written down for later perusal. I just might Get By With a Little Help From My Friends…

An influencer and her impersonators

Hey hey A-to-Z-ers. I’m almost keeping up with things! Today’s instruction is from a very intelligent, informed, imperturbable, irreproachable (and currently impregnated) individual; my only in-law, the wife of my brother. And the idea is:

Inspiration

A new person of interest to me… (did that sound weird? I’m not investigating a murder) is Miranda Sings; the 2008 creation of then-22-year-old Colleen Ballinger, a multi-talented writer/performer who is currently touring before all-age audiences, many, if not most of whom dress up as Miranda look-alikes, but who is most-known as a youtuber with millions of followers.

The Miranda character is basically a terrible person; self-centred, delusional and talentless. Her singing is notoriously dysfunctional.

Forbes names her the 5th ranked digital influencer in the world. I only learned of her existence in 2018 seeing her guesting on Seinfeld’s Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, which closed with a brief appearance of the real Colleen. I have slowly been drawn in by the humour of it, despite initially thinking it was the kind of novelty likely quick to dissipate. As of today she has become the most common contributor on my youtube playlist as I gradually explore her massive back-catalogue.

With all this influence it’s great to see that Miranda champions the most kind and socially responsible views; she just does it in some accidental intellectually ass-backwards way, in keeping with her standard comic duncery.

While she is notorious for gathering youtube and twitter comments both adoring and hating (prompting one of her main trademark expressions Haters Back Off! - the title of a two-season Netflix series), much or most of the hate mail is likely intentional baiting and meant for fun. In her semi-weekly vlog she shares her favorite fan mail (from her Mirfandas) and favourite hate mail. Getting your message chosen, regardless which category, is almost certainly any Mirfanda’s wet dream.

And speaking of wet dreams; the Miranda comedy material is a curious crossover of the traditionally-kid-friendly and traditionally-adult, and as times have changed and the internet has made superstitious over-protection of children next to impossible, it’s still a little eye-opening for me to see no apparent concern over this would-be transgression.

But Colleen has revealed that some of the early hate mail was decidedly real and severe, which prompts me to ruminate: I think that whether or not your sense of humour intersects with Colleen plays a part, certainly, in whether you’re a fan or not. But as for the deeper inclinations of love or hate, I suspect much has to do with this:

Miranda is clearly broken, and completely without empathy. And I think that her brokenness attracts people who possess much empathy, while people lacking it, are in a way threatened by her, the way that the deepest-closeted homosexuals of the previous century were so often outwardly the loudest homophobes. The game that non-empaths must play… Miranda is breaking all those rules. To some that can be infuriating, I think because it brings an unwanted mirror into play.

It does not seem that Colleen designed this paradigm. She just started mimicking annoying shallow peers, perhaps hyperbolically, and eventually on video for the benefit of her friends. And like most youtube sensations (while the corporations have not figured out how to contain the platform) her popularity just grew.

For some reason in my life, I have been deeply drawn to people with an ultimately alarming lack of empathy. And there I have generated pity and love. This has happened to me within the categories of friends, lovers, and in life-coaching relationships.

It is… hopeful to see young people so loving toward the broken Miranda, who is so easily detestable. Pragmatically though, I am inspired when I see how a simple sense of humor can reach people and open a conduit for healthy higher-order ideas.

For a couple years now I have wanted to explore youtube as a creative outlet, with comedy being the hook. Some day when I’ve taken control of my health and productivity I’m sure I will.

For now I’m taking some lessons from Colleen’s creation, and I’m ready to be called a Mirfanda.

False start: Day 1

Here’s a little suggestion for the few of you who still come peeking around here now and then: If you’re home from work now or otherwise diminished from the COVID19 business, keep a little isolation diary. It’s a healthy pursuit for different reasons, and a chance it will help you learn from the experience by facilitating reflection. Solitude is critical to real learning.

The virus has stormed into my life like Ganesh and bulldozed nearly everything in sight:

My security shifts
Circle meetings
Dismas gatherings
“Poetry Corner”
Write-Ins
Movie Club
Regular visits with Gramps and the Flaming Liberal
“Tigers” training camp
Scheduling and preparation of video shoots and Trivia Night fund-raisers
Sponsorship endeavors
Family gatherings
A paycheque...

Oddly my cell phone has been simultaneously knocked out of commission which prohibits still other activities!

It has not bulldozed:

Work on the kids easy-reader storybook.
Work on the Crazy Legs race horse novel
Blogs (I have another anonymous blog)
A ton of other writing and research projects
Work on Tigers web site, social media, articles, research etc.
Prep for April A-to-Z, Camp NaNo and Story-A-Day-In-May
Reading
A plethora of video pieces and board game projects
Bedroom restructuring
Sleep improvement project
Diet change
Exercise (no pools though)
Several other self-improvement endeavors…

Somehow it has forgotten to knock out Mindcrack and the youtubes. Day-one I did too much of these things. My only productivity was in correspondence and failed attempts to fix the cell-o-phone.

Perhaps it is up to me to manage the distractions and diversions and to make use of this golden opportunity to put some of my life back on the rails.

And I wonder… I dare to wonder… could solitary confinement be part of the answer that allows me to re-engage spiritually again; to value people again; to retreat from some of this contempt, back toward pity, back toward love. I know the wisdom of it. I have not forgotten.

Absence has made the heart grow fonder before.

B is for Brocrastination

Okay that was a cheat. But B is for bed-ridden, blurry-eyed and.... Bengals.

Bengals as in Bengal tigers - as in the Jr. B lacrosse team that landed in the middle of my life about the time I disappeared from blog world, and swept me away.

An old pal - we'll call him - LaxMasterMind has quietly become an internationally elite lacrosse GM and coach in the fifteen years since we were associates with the Chiefs Jr A team. Oh wait - I blogged about this two years ago.

Long story short: I was dragged out of my Total Lacrosse Retreat by LMM with the news of a local Jr B team which he was basically running and which I did not even know about (this community has spawned previous junior lacrosse enterprises over the years which emigrated to nearby communities). I saw a game, was amazed at the new elevated caliber of Jr B lacrosse, felt inspired to write about it, but was at a complete loss how to do so. One: I have changed so much in the intervening years and competition, winning and losing have become so very uninspiring compared to such higher-evolved things - like creativity for instance, and generosity, which are for me important elements of lacrosse. And two: I was no longer an insider. I knew nothing of the current lacrosse community and its peoples. How would I write as an outsider?

Fast forward April 2019 and LMM speaks up again: the team is looking to fill new exec positions including Director Marketing and Media Relations. I seize on that one. It's my way back in. I take it on faith that I will find a way to write about it. And god knows I should have the time for it given the 101 important projects I've been blissfully ignoring (B is for blissful ignorance).

"I'll be your director media marketing," I type back after literally about 20 seconds of deliberation. I was intentionally bold. Take it or leave it.

He took it.

The task I took on for myself; the goal, is enormously ambitious. The work I cut out for myself is potentially endless. And I admit I don't know how to accomplish the goal, if indeed it's possible. But I trust in finding useful components and pursuing them on faith that they will be part of the final solution. More on all this some other time.

Was I crazy to take this on given I can't keep up with anything currently? Here's my weird rationalization: To take on a world of work which is unlike most of my current work in that there are tight schedules and outside stakeholders, which means I will be properly motivated to Get It Done, which may be just the thing to re-teach me a proper work ethic. When the season ends in a few months I can move my new work ethic and apply it to my own works.

Well that time is now.

So I'm back.

I say that I am here to stay. Fingers crossed.

And by here I mean blog world, yes, but I mean much more. I want to really be here. Being present again. Being productive. Making a difference. Being the person I should be instead of the loser I have been for the last year and a half.

This morning I arose after 6 hours of sleep (not bad! though sleep remains a critical Needs Improvement Area) picked up Chess Champ, met up with The Healer, journeyed to Station One former fire-house turned cafe and there met Sweetproserpina and the Ponderer for a joyful write-in. Here I am. The Ponderer's partner is beating her cancer. The Healer's mate has finally become employed again by a college where I worked for awhile. And Chess Champ has finally released some writing to the semi-public sphere. A big step. I really look forward to finally giving him a read. Given sleep and eye problems I have not really read for this year and a half. Another Needs Improvement Area.

Continuous improvement. Every day. Am I back? It would be nice if I were back.

Love Fwig

A little crack

At Poetry Corner last night - okay it’s not called Poetry Corner but it’s a very friendly, fun and supportive monthly gathering where folks share their poetry and any other creative efforts. Okay: At "Poetry Corner" I shared my finished Red Herring game.

Ivan the Tolerable taught us a bit about the accordion and then on his own very snazzy one he wheezed out the Godfather theme and some other Italian ditty, much to the gleeful approval of Papa Italiano who then shared this little brain-buster:

that that is is that that is not is not that that is is not that that is not is that it it is  

This is supposedly a perfectly valid paragraph if you insert the correct punctuation. Most people take a few minutes to figure it out if at all!

Soul Man made some much-appreciated magic with a couple classic Spanish guitar pieces, Math Teacher shared her watercolours and a couple “passing” spectators were prompted to share their favourite travel story as a contribution.

Cradle Man was in rare form this night, rarely given to his almost-permanent compulsive stereotypic (rocking) motion. He sang entirely unique covers to a couple 80’s tunes in his favourite single tone and pitch and his very special fluctuating time signature! I personally love these joyful train wrecks!

The Native’s Wife managed to get us all on our feet to sing and dance a native song. I have no idea what it meant but hey, it was a new experience! I shall have to find out more about it.

The Lonely Lumberjack and his poetry were the impetus behind this creative tradition many years ago now and besides Soul Man, it’s most steady participant. And it was through Poetry Corner, which he himself invited me to, when he was a tenant, and myself a guard, at the local correction centre, that I became associated with this charitable community before eventually becoming a volunteer.

This night we learned that he had stayed home with illness. So someone dug out their speaker-phone-cell-o-phone-machine and we called him up as Soul Man strummed a flexible intro… and as soon as he answered, we launched into song:

When the night has come and the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we'll see

No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid

Just as long as you stand, stand by me...


I don't ever sing at these or other community events except on the rare occasion I present one of my own songs on my own guitar, but this night I made an exception and joined in. We sang it complete while through the phone we heard old Mr. Lumberjack whistling along with us!


Oh and if you want the answer to the riddle above, here it is:

That that is, is.

That that is not, is not.

That that is, is not that that is not.

Is that it?

It is.

It’s an exercise to illustrate the importance of ambiguity and punctuation.

At the close of the session Soul Man reported his conversation with the gruff, taciturn and oft-cantankerous Lonely Lumberjack who confessed that he was deeply touched by our musical sneak attack and even surrendered a tear in his eye!

Every once in a while a little crack appears and his little old heart emits a ray of light.

And now here's a special treat:

Together

I’m noticing, over the last few days, how increased mindfulness (or wakefulness etc.) doesn’t only avail wisdom but also the simplest intelligence. I have had many meetings and social engagements lately and have been a little more on the ball and have noticed how much clearer I see the relationship dynamics without the nigglings - the wisps - of pride and paranoia twisting my perception. All these relationships look so much more joyful, beautiful and worthwhile and full of possibility through detached observation.

The word detachment seems to scare people off though. I’m talking about perception that is without these false filters of need; dependency; expectation. I find this hard to describe. For me it comes through organic trust in the lessons I have learned, first-hand, about the illusions spun by instinctive mind. For me detachment has no negative connotations. It is not about lack of love, for instance. In fact it avails so much more love.

I’m sure that Tolle or Buddhist literature would describe a different path for finding this detachment; a path or paths which I seem to have forgotten precisely. I recall these readings too dimly at the moment. For me it came through the habit of creative solitude and a bottomless fascination for truth; or more accurately it turned out, the absence of truth and the forensic study of its displacement. It is why, in my more powerful state of former years, I was strong in leveraging influence; nudging people more toward creativity, before I began faltering and eventually withdrawing, more intentionally of late.

I am reminded the advantages of clarity when one is not so self-interested in the dynamics of relationships. It is enough that we are all alive, human and imperfect together, and taking on this great drama together, as witnesses to the universe, and to our own potential as a creature of harmony; both internal and collectively.

Red Herring!

So here is the game board for the game I’m just finishing up. It’s called Red Herring and it’s going to be awesome! Much fun I’m sure.

The images are from my collection of 700+ cartoons I drew over a two-year period playing Eat Poop U Cat online. They just provide colour basically and generally fit the theme. It should have occurred to me years ago to make use of these now-orphaned cartoons in some of the games I make. Given the weirdness of the cartoons, generally, I could easily put together a Dixit adaptation.

The board is simply a scoring track which the players (from 3 to 12) will move their tokens along. The large central-ish panel is just the right amount of space to hold the THING cards, the Red Herring cards, the LOLnuts and Fish Chips. In hindsight I should have left space between the scoring paths instead of just a thicker black line. It would have looked clearer that way. I continue to learn from mistakes.

Production came together quickly considering I had to brainstorm 200 question cards (such as “What’s locked in your basement?” or “What did you go back in time to capture?”) and 200 red herring cards (such as “Satan” or “My achy breaky heart” or “Cream of Sum Yung Guy”). Luckily I have a head flooded with trivial nonsense (and the odd nugget of brilliance!).

I’m eager to test it.

The game I mean; not the brilliance.

The projects

I'm sorry for cluttering this blog with all my housekeeping. These recent articles are really only here to help me get my head on straight:  

So here’s me trying to finally take the advice received for more than a decade from several close associates who work in the project management realm and are probably really good at it. This is my attempt to organize my project goals so as to work on them one at a time and get them completed. Something tells me I might not be doing this exactly right:

NOVELS

Priority: Crazy Legs

Back Burner: 7 miscellaneous

Shelved Indefinitely: 7 miscellaneous

NOVELLAS

Priority: The Million Dollar Maple (Y-A)

Back Burner: 1 project

Shelved Indefinitely: 2 projects

SHORT FICTION

Priority: The Hoot’n'Nanny collection (11 stories)

Back Burner: 1 story

NON-FICTION

Priority: The Universal Perspective (poetic compendium - working title)

Back Burner: various climate essays

BLOG PROJECTS

Priority: 7 miscellaneous projects

Back Burner: 8 miscellaneous projects

ORIGINAL BOARD GAMES 

Priority: Zinger, Red Herring, Family Dysfunction, Prestige, Mornington Crescent, List It

Back Burner: 13 miscellaneous

BOARD GAME ADAPTATIONS

Priority: Quantify

Back Burner: 8 miscellaneous

Shelved Indefinitely: 1

CROSSWORD PUZZLES

Back Burner: “Crosswords for Hipsters, Beatniks and the Criminal Fringe” (working title!) 26 complete

CARTOONS

Back Burner: 2 projects

HUMOUR

Back Burner: “astrology” project, GoFundMe project, 3 stand-up routines

RPG’S

Priority: “Minerva” as DM

Back Burner: 2 enterprises as player

Shelved Indefinitely: 2 projects

COMMUNITY “PROJECTS”

I hesitate to include this because these are much more than projects. These are relationships. These are real people. I include them because realistically I must budget my time and organizational attention for them just as I budget for everything else:

Priority: Guitar Man, Lonely Lumberjack, Theatre Guy, Soul Man, Grampa Munster

Back Burner: 5 projects

Shelved Indefinitely: 1 project  

  

“EVOLUTION”

Priority: 2 “clients”

Back Burner: 1

  

HEALTH

Priority: 4 projects 

ORIGINAL SONG RECORDINGS, FILMING FOR MUSIC VIDEOS, INTERVIEWS, INTERACTIVE FICTION, CHILDREN’S FICTION AND POETRY:

32+ projects on Back Burner!

This is all a brief summary drawn from a master spreadsheet full of details. I have now added columns for importance and urgency which feed the aggregate priority column, which… will now tell me what to do?

If anyone actually skimmed through all this, I wonder what you’re thinking. Am I nuts?