An old watercolor painting I made in 2006 and sold in 2007.
Tomorrow marks the end of my third week with True North Marketing. This is by far one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life: moving from being a recluse with nothing but my dreams, to talking to strangers all day every day in order to one day fulfill those dreams. I am more scared of human beings than I am of any other animal on our planet, but I know I need to learn how to love them properly and there's no other way that I'll do it besides just making myself do it, and this is how I'm making myself do it. I am trying to learn how to move between nervousness and excitement with ease (it's not coming easy to me yet, though). I often find myself missing the moments of quiet, contemplative solitude that I have enjoyed for years. Those are the moments that keep me the most grounded. But now I am learning how to fly, and sticking to the ground isn't going to help me do that. So I am learning new modes of being. I still sometimes think, "what the hell am I doing here? I should be working on video games, books, and digital paintings, not doing this". But what good will the games, books, and paintings be if I cannot sell them to the world? I have thought about putting all of my intellectual property into the public domain, that way they would be able to organically circulate the world unimpeded, but doing that will not teach me how to make energy flow. Learning how to make energy flow is what I'm really after, after all. And it is difficult to build momentum. But I keep telling myself that one day I will thank myself for going through this phase, because it will enable me to reach higher places in the future. Knowing that the future can be better than the past is what makes me keep going in the present. If I stop now, what will I gain? A lot of free time, but also a lot of disappointment in myself, and a loss of connection with others. The people inside my head may keep me company all of the time, but the human beings outside of my head will want to meet them— who am I to deprive others of the wonders of my mind? This sounds self-absorbed (and it is), but I know that I have an extraordinary gift to share. I know I have something that can make other people really, really happy— who am I to keep it all to myself? So I'll continue trudging through the mud, knowing that I will become clean later.
Weird Trivia About Me: I find it much easier to talk to dogs, plants, and computers rather than people.
