Overwhelmed by the New

This is a short report.

In case you have been wondering, there are more new things in the world today than there were yesterday. I think the rate of new things per day is increasing, but I can no longer detect the edges of anything, so I can’t be sure through direct, empirical observation.

I have a lot of work to do, and although I love that work, I can’t help but feel that I would be of greater value still to everybody and everything if I were to just go back to school for four-or-more years, to learn all the things I want to, and think that I might need to.

Except, the world would have moved on anyway while I was in class. The busses have left the station: I will not be a master 3D modeller / animator in my lifetime. I will not be sagely informed about machine learning and tensors and such (whatever a Tensor is). I will never be an accomplished musician.

I will never be an expert at anything.

This is going to have to be ok. There’s something perfectly double-edged about having so much to choose from in Life, that one can never expect to have it all (or even know what it all means). This is one of countless aspects of living in a full-spectrum environment that we are simply here to experience and accept.

Humility and pragmatism probably play a part in surviving the modern world, but I need to do some more research on that before making any rash decisions about being more humble, or pragmatic.

I’m late for something.

To Continue…

Hardly Focusing

Listening to found audio from the Internet : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_uLM5i0Z4c

I have too many Things. This includes physical Things, like household objects, as well as project-like Things, like work, self-improvement, hobbies, and fleeting interests. These all add up to an inventory. Even my burgeoning list of passwords and TODOs are part of this expansive inventory.

My inventory is a blessing and a curse of course, as are many gifts. The options available to me are by-and-large of greater number – any given Thing being a potential key to some door – but with options comes an implicit call to someday choose-it-or-otherwise-lose-it. I’ve written about this elsewhere at other times, but always I think for about the same reason: I have trouble focusing in one direction, when so many intriguing ones present themselves.

At the risk of being repetitive: the Things we are given, and the Time we have to filter through and then pursue them, seem rather mismatched to me. Where are the extra limbs and eyes and minds I need to see these Things to their better conceived conclusions (or better yet, continuations)? I am only one mortal man, with no more than the predictable number of attachments and powers.

Of course, we are a collective for a reason. We are meant to recognize in each other all of the potential we can’t ourselves realize on our own. Some of our quests might be better given to or shared with others.

I am engaged at work these days. The project I’m working on – to a good extent a realization of my own imagination, then empowered by the interests and experiences of several other minds – keeps me thinking and plugging away.

Last night, I put myself to bed in a happy state, excited for the next steps in this project. I felt a familiar feeling: engagement in what I’m doing. This is a signal that I’ve found something worth really focusing on. By that, I mean other things (at least for a time) need to give way to it, so the work can happen in a full sense, rather than a partial one.

This means I can’t write for hours every day, or read for hours every day, or spend hours and hours watching videos and tutorials unrelated to the principal task at hand. It means I can’t start new projects whenever I want. It means I can’t keep a thousand browser tabs open, to be lightly and continuously monitored while doing all of the other Things. Focusing on one Thing means something. It is different than succeeding at everything you feel you should succeed at.

I sometimes imagine myself occupying a position in Possibility Space. This is different though related to Physical Space. The directions aren’t informed by the same magnetism, but are instead directions of exploration, inquiry, and implementation. Each journey takes one toward some conclusion/continuation (with the requisite embedded learning), and then necessarily away from the others.

A person wishing to explore to the East and North will end up to the North-East – a place in between the two places they were actually interested in visiting. A person wishing to explore East and West at once will end up more-or-less where they already are. Of course, this metaphor takes one only so far – the point is, if you want to finish something fully, head toward that Thing with something akin to determination, and certainly with a good measure of focus, for some amount of time.

How far you go in that direction might have as much to do with how little you concern yourself with all of the other available ones, as with the walking you do in the direction you decide to actually walk. Walking with intention – enjoying the view, moving objectively forward. The destinations you leave (for now) might be more reachable from your new position, for all you now know, once you become elevated through your concentrated effort (like climbing). It’s all about an attitude for altitude, maybe.

Art and AI

I recently watched two young violin professionals on Youtube react to the compositions of AIs, arrayed alongside those of humans.

The challenge was for them to tell which was which. One could see on their faces an uneasiness about where technology has gone, and where it might still go. I felt that anyway, watching it.

Increasing complexity and capacity in computing power begins to challenge my understanding of what makes a person Human, and what makes a work a work of Human inspiration. In the music space, artists are now uncertain how to approach music composed entirely by machines.

They aren’t in fact composed entirely by machines though – the machines still need Human creative works to inspect, so they can re-swizzle the patterns they find in order to “innovate”. The more predictable and repetitive Human art becomes, the easier it becomes for AI to simulate.

AI are getting quite disturbingly good at simulating us, in some sense. This might be a call for artists to raise the bar and move forward with what we consider art. Whatever that means. I’ll leave that to the real artists.

Once the AI can do what we do, we must venture out and do something entirely new…

Re: Routines

I am quite terrible when it comes to routine. As a Human, I fall into them, at times regardless of their quality or merit. In other circumstances, better routines seems far too difficult to fall into – they are the type you have to climb up or crack the code for.

This morning, on my walk to Tim Hortons (the ubiquitous coffee and donut chain in Canada), I imagined an invisible thread stretching in front of me, leading to the building’s entrance: the die, having been set so many times before, was now most certainly cast once more – I was heading for caffeine and the Internet, again. How has this worked for me so far?

Now that I’ve created a new blog, entered the Paying Customer tier, and given it some sort of facelift (my marketing skills are poor), I now want to build a better routine, around it. Journaling on the Internet – not exactly a novelty, but maybe it will be a tent peg of some sort.

Re: Writing for a Living

There. I said it.

I have been and continue to be a professional software developer, but my dream is to express myself openly and creatively, in order to pay the bills. Why do the same thing your entire life?

This dream involves having some plan, where I can conceive of trading words for financial tokens. I don’t yet have such a plan, but I suppose that’s a thing I could attempt to fix.

While I’m at it, I want to create some kind of brand. I don’t really know what that means. Do I need one of those?


Many mornings, I start the day by waking up, rolling around for a while in protest of the waking, and then finally getting up to do bathroom things and putting clothes on myself. This is Phase 1 of the New Day, most days.

Phase 2 most often involves leaving the house, and going for a walk, so that I can collect my thoughts, before “going to work”. The walk I often take brings me up a hill and back down again.

This journey is an metaphor for any given day, or week, or year, or project – forward progress does not get made at a constant rate, but instead at a rate according to the weight one carries, and the inclines and terrain features one encounters.

I carry a backpack most places I go, when I’m not in the house. My laptop and assorted things take up a good portion of the backpack’s space – the rest is extra clothes, towels, and random things I might need. It’s usually pretty full, and I enjoy the extra weight on my back as I move.

You pack things with you on all sorts of journeys – concerns of the day, responsibilities, mental or physical health issues, TODOs… that’s your weight.

You encounter challenges and tasks of all different levels throughout your journey… sometimes the challenges are easy (flat ground, downhill), and sometimes they’re harder (uphill in the heat of a Summer day)… that’s your route.

This morning walk reminds me that life is a journey – that’s why I choose that route over the easier, quicker one. My body enjoys the challenge, as well as the scenery. I pick my route, for the challenge as well as the scenery. I don’t like starting the day’s Phase 3 (work) until I’ve had a chance to walk that reminder.

Can a person pick their weight and their route in life? Through a single day, a week, a year or more?


I have too many things to say and a great many more to hear.

I think the learning and the progress happens in those transitions between.