Focus, focus, focus.

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Last Tuesday, Kelly and I went ice skating downtown. I don’t think that this has anything to do with my intentions of “focusing” but, I thought that it was a worthwhile mention of me, having fun, out in the great, big world.

So, I was walking downtown this afternoon, on my way to see Lynda Barry speak at RISD, and I was suddenly concerned with the idea, while my biggest new year’s intention was to “Learn to focus, asshole”, I have no actual idea of how to make that happen. No syllabus. No rubric. No dailyhiit.com-esque website where a pretty lady with a calming accent will freestyle encouraging messages over a video of her, say, reading a book without picking up her phone every 4 minutes and playing with the dog every 9.

On the other hand, I am trying to commit myself to this 30-day workout challenge thing. I think these things are are inherently lame. QED. But it does serve to make a vast subject a bit more manageable. There are a million workouts you can do but it’s easier to focus when the pleasant voice sez: focus on this one for this period of time. I’m really hoping that I can glean something from this experience. Besides fierce muscles. ‘Natch.

Sorry, hippies. You can try to convince me that meditation is the way and the light but I’m just going to turn the music up louder, bit by bit, until what I am doing becomes obvious. Namaste or whatever.

I’ve been really frustrated, lately. I feel like I spend so much time thinking about business and very little time working on business. And that feels not-so-good. But then, I take time to see go skating or spend time making eye-contact with a friend, and that feels….well. Good. But also like I am avoiding “getting shit done.” And no matter how many times I yell, “FOCUS, NOVAK!” I can’t get my butt in the studio and into the brain space of, what Lynda Barry was calling, “deep play”. It’s that zone that people get into that sometimes causes them to say things like, “Man. I was really in the zone.” I tend to think of it as being in a focused mindspace that has felt the same ever since childhood. One that is really lucid and I can move through with ease. Emotionally: very good. Check plus. On the downside, I tend to get majorly agitated upon snapping out of this type of revery. Sorry, Dave. BUT! Tonight, I got so charged up post-lecture that I overshot. Too much thinking about good brain space canceled out being able to slip into said good brain space. Oops. Round and round.

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Speaking of, it seems that the vortex of the boardwalk is just too difficult to escape. The cars from the “Musik Express” ride have been washing up on the shore, one-by-one, returning to the land that nurtured them. Patience, patience, patience. Focus, focus, focus. (A teenage employee exclaiming, “Do you want to go FASTER?!” over throbbing techno music. The answer is always “Yes.” )

(Also, this week, I attended an antique bottle show and, in doing so, became a true parody of myself.)(Parenthetically.)

 

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One thought on “Focus, focus, focus.

  1. Jake says:

    “Becoming a self-parody” and “approaching the event horizon of destiny” can look similar on first glance, you realize.

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