Nabbed and Instantly Broadcast

When I started this blog in October of 2007, I saw it as a two-year endeavor, emulating a two-year Master's Degree in fine art. The concept was to keep my creativity alive -- having made the photography that was once only a hobby into a full-time job, I wanted to make sure I had a forum for non-professional creative endeavors (i.e., explored for their own sake) and a place to document thoughtful meanderings. Over time, the University of Sarah has evolved in many ways - using the term "fine art" loosely at times, other times blending over into literature, and sometimes simply exploring new thoughts and sharing ideas I came across.

In a sense, I have graduated. As much as this blog remains a forum for me to explore, it has grown into a place for me to communicate with my clients about what goes on behind the work itself. My business has grown and changed, as well as my artwork, along with the world at large, which has embraced social media and the need for instantaneous and incessant electronic connection with others.

As a lover and deliverer of stories, this evolution is perfect for me. My favorite part of making art is the immersion in a moment - "nabbing" something, I call it. Being present enough to capture the emotional essence of a moment, whether in hitting the shutter at just the right second or articulating exactly the right turn of phrase, is the most grounding and gratifying experience I know. Now, my nabbings can be instantly broadcast, using the mobile upload function on my iPhone and sending images and thoughts directly to my facebook page.

Someone once asked me what my relationship was with technology. I replied, "I came of age with it." My mother taught me DOS commands so I could use the word processor when I was 5. I surfed the Cleveland Freenet (pre-internet) and had an email account at age 11, using a dial-up modem. Unlike the generation before, I got a taste of these things while I was still a child. Unlike the generation after, I can vividly remember life without them. I have a unique appreciation from this viewpoint -- seeing clearly the changes technology makes in our lives, and being accustomed to the rapidness with which it does so.

While I will continue to utilize this blog for substantial stories, social media has become for me a platform for the smaller, everyday stories that affect my work and my creative process. It seems my inner desire to capture and share has reached a beautiful coalescence with the technology of the outer world, which allows me to create, manage, and address an audience in the exact moment I feel inspired to do so. Some people see me obsessively playing with my iPhone and mistake me for a workaholic or a socialite or addicted to facebook, but the truth is that I am playing out a childhood fantasy of immediate broadcast of my creative captures.

Do indulge me.

Follow or become a fan.

Recently, a colleague of mine said, "I've noticed you're saying 'no,' a lot."

The striking thing was, she meant it as a compliment.

You've had those moments when you're just not sure what you want to do with yourself, right? Is this job right for me? When should I start / expand a family? Where should we go on vacation? How did that annoying piece of decor manage to come with us when we moved? Should I start / change an exercise routine? What is that random object on my desk?

Some people [yogis] call it "monkey mind," others [shrinks] call it "ADD."

I call it, "not having a pre-occupation of the moment." When one has a pre-occupation of the moment, there is a default thought that one can turn to when bored, annoyed, or otherwise under-stimulated. For instance, if your pre-occupation of the moment was "bread pudding," every time you had a down moment, you would be thinking about bread pudding. I.e.: Where can I get bread pudding? Is bread pudding easy to make? How can I find the best recipe for bread pudding? I wonder if I could eat bread pudding for an entire meal... etc.

Pre-occupations-of-the-moment are a godsend. They provide a soothing effect, because there are answers to the questions they raise, many of which can be determined with a simple google search, or series of delightful conversations with people knowledgeable on the subject.

I love having pre-occupations-of-the-moment, and often try to have several going at once.

Even still, there are occasions on which I find myself wondering about what I am doing with my life.

And, when one is wondering that, not google nor any length of series of delightful conversations with knowledgeables will be able to supply a satisfying answer. Perhaps this is why larger questions of career and life are often referred to as one's "occupation" (minus the pre-).

What many of us experience in this state is a rampant, trying-out of opportunities. Someone suggests a consulting job or a business referral or an introduction to another person in a similar field, and we say, "Yes."

We try things, frantically measuring them against the voice in our monkey ADD minds to see if anything's registering on the "what to do with my life" scale. Sometimes something sort of does but sort of doesn't, and it's hard to assess what of it worked, and what didn't. Sometimes we get so overwhelmed trying to take up opportunities simply because they were presented, that we forget what we were taking things up for to begin with, and fall into what someone else thinks might be a good idea for us.

As you can see, there are many pitfalls to having too large an occupation, and not enough pre-occupations.

So, I began saying, "No."

Recently, I said no to a proposed speaking engagement [I get stagefright, and only something spectacularly aligned with my goals warrants facing it], no to continuing a networking group with people I respect and admire [my time and energy was better spent on marketing that was more in tune with the way I enjoy promoting my business], and no to the idea that I will live in New York City forever [I love New York, but it's a big world out there!].

Does this "saying no" instantaneously provide clarity on every aspect in question in terms of what to do with myself?

NO!

But, it does establish clear boundaries in my head - and boundaries, I have found, are the baseboards of creativity. As soon as our limits are clearly defined, we begin to see more clearly the resources we have to work with. Have you ever felt overwhelmed with a project, then sat down, created a budget for it, and instantly saw how doable it was? Even budgetary constraints can be a blessing, when it comes to creativity, because rather than have infinite options to and from which our minds can bounce and deliberate, we can see a limited list of choices to be made, and easily determine which of those viable options will be most pleasing.

So, I'm going to keep saying no, until it's perfectly clear exactly all the directions I would not like to go, and finally I box myself into exactly where I would like to go. And, if I'm boxed in, I'll already be contained therein, and the answer to the question about what I'm doing, I suspect, will be right before my eyes.