internet sketchbook
In my obsessive, unhinged way I'm thinking about the home I want to build myself online. I want everything perfect but I hate perfection.
Perfection can't really be built or contained. Technical perfection of say, a seam or a line or a circle -- okay, yes that can be a thing. But the perfection I'm seeking is in art: writing, drawing, design, even coding. And that just isn't possible. Even if I were actually good at them (I'm not), there is no perfect there. There might be a personal best work, but that's so subjective it's pointless to get hung up on. My mother keeps pictures I drew 15 years ago on display. I throw out pictures from 15 minutes ago daily, some of them that 15 years ago I would have cried with joy seeing and plastered on every surface I could find. Art is all, yknow, waving arms in air gesturing at nothing and everything.
So there's sketchbooks, which usually lbr have your best work in, but it's a 2cm doodle overlapping another scribble hidden in 50 pages of chaos. Or you can have a portfolio: carefully collected, placed together neatly, showing things done intentionally.
So what about my internet presence? Intentional, or just flinging shit at a wall to see what sticks? I'm throwing things at the wall right now, and I'm waiting for something to stick -- but I feel weird about it. I should have intention, a process and an end product because I feel like that has more weight, more worth, than just... spinning in my chair, tapping on the keyboard for the clickyclacky sounds, repeat ad nauseam. Why though?
I see 'finished' art everyday, its everywhere. Finished work is inescapable, claustrophobic to think about it too much, people have AI shitting it out they need so much of it (apparently). Sketchbooks... not so much. Whats in your diary, what you got in that notebook? I shamelessly wanna see. That's interesting. I wanna see behind the scenes, always, of everything. When they have a display at a gallery, and there's notebooks in a glass box, I'm frothing at the mouth trying to x-ray vision into that shit. Fuck the paintings hanging on the wall.
So I guess, for all I'm feeling like my internet-sketchbook is too messy and nonsensical, I will keep at it because that's what I want to see. Messy, nonsensical, real thoughts in real time with no filter. Things can be refined and reused into something more coherent later, or just left as a snippet of one vaguely interesting thing in 5000 words of bullshit. The ideas being outside my head is more important than them being presented "perfectly".
I figured I just blog about the same thing all the time lol. One day I'll get over this mental block, I swear.