ur gonna get older and shake your head when you think about how you tried to force yourself into places you didn't fit when you could have just kept exploring. it's scary to not know where you belong, but staying in places where you don't feel yourself is not the answer.
With incessant self-work—whether it’s weekly therapy or horoscopes or daily tarot readings or scouring self-help instagram or books—there’s a sense that you’re trying to milk the universe for insight. But the universe is not your cow, over whom you have dominion. The universe is your mother, over whom you have no control but do possess a strong influence. She will feed you when she decides it’s time—or when you cry powerfully—out of love and care for you. But you cannot bring the breast to your mouth yourself, for you are ultimately completely dependent.
- when you feel tears coming, go for a walk. put on a pair of large sunglasses and allow yourself to weep freely behind them. seek open spaces when your world is closing in.
Too many people think the grass is greener somewhere else but grass is green where you water it, remember that.
When you encounter a piece of life-changing information (no matter how large the change part is), you are simultaneously discovering and creating “yourself,” becoming incrementally more complete. Your perspective (where your gaze is directed) is made up of a meandering line through these points. Learning (or maybe some precursor to learning) is a lot about developing the intuition to recognize when something you find in the world is going to be a nodal point for you.
It’s not a force that’s coming from the world. It’s not just something that wants to smooth everything out and remove tension and friction. I think it's interesting that you frame it in terms of selfishness, because the parts of a person that are really fascinating tend to be the ones that are kind of orthogonal to the rest of the world — that have these little weird shapes that don't quite fit.
— Charles Broskoski here
The last time we talked, I brought up this quote that I'm really fond of: “do what only you can, don't call it art.” That is still a thing that is very important to me, in both my professional work, and also when I publish as a private person, on Are.na or wherever. I don't really care who sees it, I don't envision an audience. I do it for myself mostly. I'm super selfish — I don't want to explain it at all, I don’t want to optimize it to work well in a certain environment or get a lot of eyeballs or get a lot of feedback. I'm not looking for any of these things. I think that leads to a certain coded style; for some people, it's very hard to parse and they go away immediately, but for others, that’s where they start to be intrigued. I really like encoding and decoding things, and when I find someone who has a very particular style of writing, or a very particular style of designing a website, I get intrigued. That is something that is very important to how I approach any type of publishing online. I have weird hangups and I have weird interests, and I just want to express them as I can.