Yesterday’s post here was good to write. But in my own estimation, it turned into the best thing I’ve ever filmed–for the whopping audience of four souls that actually watched it, and for myself. It clarified some serious things for me. After creating it, I changed a few things around here.
I weeded out the two-thirds of my first 30 or so posted videos that weren’t that good, or were just for learning the game. I didn’t delete them. I just unlisted them, and if you want to see them you now have to get to them through the backdoor of a Playlist. They’re not on the front page of the channel anymore.
I also decided that although the Spill here will continue to come out Daily, the vids don’t have to. I posted video every day for the first month because I wanted to get myself in the habit, and also because I thought doing it might draw more people back regularly. The latter thing didn’t happen. I’m sitting at eight subscribers on YT, and that’s eight more than I started out with–I’d call that a small victory while acknowledging that bigger ones are not going to come easily.
I think when I make the run back to SandRock early in November, I’ll shoot a bunch of cat footage while I’m there, and make some vids out of it. But what I really want to do is Part 2 and Part 3 and Part 33 of PR&SF, whether I call them that or not.
I want to tell the brutal pretty truth as I’ve come to know it. I want to do art. Yesterday I did. Today I didn’t … I don’t have unlimited time left … I don’t want to waste it.
So I’ll write here every day and do the best I know how. And when I do manage to bottle lightning, I’ll put that in a video. If it’s just another post, like this one, then no video is required, or maybe even wanted.
Part Two is already written in my head, but not on the page, much less the screen.
I got some bills paid. I cooked and set up my kitchen for more cooking. I made a short list of really important things I really need to get on out there in the world, starting twelve hours from now on a Monday morning. I listened to the wind and I hoped it was listening to me.