Tuesday, December 23, 2008

When we gather here next time, on an arbitrary date at an arbitrary hour about an arbitrary topic, count on this: there will be no arbitrary list of New Year’s resolutions. I gave up on them a long time ago, opting instead to launch a skill acquisition campaign back in February, but whatever you call it, it concluded as resolutions usually do–half-finished, neglected, a tattered version of itself coasting slowly into the hangar.

Certainly I’m pleased with the things I did learn: how to shoot guns, how to vote, how to not shoot guns after burning well past 110 on the 10th hole, how to start (and abandon) a new website, how to earn a black belt in Quit-Jitsu, 5th degree, by attending no more than two sessions of Krav Maga, and how to do these things against a historical backdrop where things seem to unravel on a daily basis.

And they may very well continue to unravel, if the analysts are correct, but survival can’t be the only theme for ’09. I don’t accept this. I don’t want to be a footnote in the void. There’s got to be more. I’m still enamored with this idea of creating one great work. Significant. Timeless. I admire how artists, developers, and musicians create meaningful product, seemingly out of the blue, and the optimist would tell me to learn how to design. Unlock the mysteries of programming. Take a few classes on composing. But I also believe talent counts for a great deal, and even if I sunk prodigious time and money into learning, say, how to design in Flash, the best I can hope to be is an imitation of someone who’s naturally good at it. That’s just not enough.

So no more skill acquisition campaigns. The idea for next year isn’t quantity. It’s to pay singular attention to that one thing–my one thing–and let it marinate until it’s ready. As for what it is exactly, well, I’m not certain yet. But I’m close. Let’s talk soon.