Go your own way
Are desire paths just shortcuts, or a reminder of the power of self determination?
Everything is written. Nothing is written.
Our hands seem tied by ancient restrictions and condescending tut-tuts placed upon the hammers and the keys and the inks and the leads of our implements. Upon the tools of our expression.
Our languages—stamped upon the world in blacks and blues and all our cultural hues—wriggle in their straitjackets.
There are the standards and the levels and arrangements and regiments. Marked and set and sentence-cased and more. Each consonant and vowel at attention in the lineup, eyeing a space for a comma, perhaps?
Paragraphs transposed and thoughts em dashed to a semblance of comprehensible—the order of the willing.
This way home. Set thyself upon this long-established path, worn and trod by so many who came before, and ye shall pass the grade and ace the test and navigate all fields of expression with ease.
Stet. Let it stand. Footfalls punctuated by the sound of same.
Fences and boundaries to be respected.
*sigh*
There is a yearning for what lies beyond. In our most dramatic moments, this structure feels as sad parental oppression. Like an attempt to restrain the wild of our nature with small marks of order—things to give our expression acceptable form in the universe.
In this style. In this shape. Within these guides. To fit and slip through the world and out on the other side one must conform. This is how it is done. How it has always been done. It is a good system. An effective set of instructions, obviously. Red pens and delete keys have saved many lives.
And yet…
Is it possible to veer off and find a different path that gets you to the same place, but in your own way? Can you use language and words and punctuation and grammar and style and tone as a flexible blade to machete through the brush?
Nothing is written. You can appreciate the weight and power of structure and rules, you can note on the chart the direction laid down before you, and still the dream of your story will find its own form.
Write your desire path. Go your own way.
Everything is said. Nothing is said.
They tell you that you are not original. You are not the first or the last of the great orators to throw your hand skyward and wow the world with your script. Your words voiced to the air are not new or given extra weight as though spoken from atop a mount or a soapbox or from behind a lectern.
They have been delivered already by those with minds far greater than yours.
Even the themes chosen and the tone of the delivery. Done. The sing-song sound of your voice reverberating through the hearts and minds of the world—or so you think—done. Expressed better in ways you cannot fathom, despite your many attempts to replicate.
You are not original and following the sound of their voice does not reveal your own. Mimicry does not equate to originality.
Where is your voice?
What have you got to say?
Are these words—is this expression—your own?
Hushed by doubt, you gag yourself to silence. It’s all been said before.
But what if…?
What if this is just not your audience? What if this is simply not your stage? Perhaps this is a case of entering into a theatre that was not designed for you. The door was open and in you went and now you are reading from a script you did not write, mimicking the timbre and tone of others. This is why your voice does not carry.
Look for the exits. These are not your words. These are not your people.
Go off script to find your voice. Find your theatre with a marquee that celebrates your point of view.
Voice your desire path. Architect your stage.
Everything is heard. Nothing is heard.
This is listening minus processing and the message fails to load.
The path of understanding meanders and you, along it, broadcasting and expressing and sharing and more. The active listen is inactive. You watch as the evidence gathers in the faces and body language of your audience who appear to be waiting for a lull. At this point, having heard nothing, they will gleefully insert their personality into the void of your silence.
Competition and crescendo. All voices converge on the path to become an uncomfortable fuzz of static and noise. No one hears anyone. All is din.
Even when voices are heard misunderstandings abound. Missteps, feet in mouths, trips on unfamiliar walkways as the message falls to the earth to be laughed at or worse, ignored.
And then there is the shushing of. The pipe downs and shut ups. A message rejected by both canals, left and right. Thinking—the step between listening and reaction—is absent. It’s straight to the most extreme with no inside voice between.
Know everything, know nothing. See, say, hear—there is evil in it all.
Everybody speaks and nobody listens. Change the medium not the message. Stomp your feet to ground and let them feel the thunder of that message—your message—reverb up through the soles of their feet and through their chest cavity to bypass ears and go straight to their heart.
Adjust your desire path frequency to clear. Make sure they hear you coming.
Everything is final. Nothing is final.
There is no such thing as change. This is how it is, and this is how it works, and this is how it’s always been. You will be judged worthy or unworthy and there will be no change in who you are and in the expectation of what you can be from this day forth.
Sometimes, you think someone told you this. Sometimes it feels true.
Stand here. This is your mark and upon this mark you shall stand and move from it you shall not. Not ever. Now take this. In this envelope marked expectations are the blueprints and instructions for your life. Your lifeline goes from A to Z and there is no alphabet between.
(You get the point.)
You begin. Your journey seems to be a solemn trudge along a road bearing no signage for off ramps to other worlds, other places, or new beginnings. There is no infrastructure. Your destiny seems random, based entirely on how you grew up or where you grew up or who you grew up with.
Newsflash: Destiny is a con. Desire is actual.
Desire exists in the blood and bone and sinew of your body. Desire rips envelopes and redraws blueprints, stating as it does so: “Forever is a concept with no eyes. Who has seen forever? Not one person.”
What this means is simple enough.
Start your desire path anywhere. At any time.
Control flails its arms in a free-fall. Wave it on.
People tell you where to go and what to do, drafting us all as sheep into this lane and that. Duck and dive and wriggle.
These are the rules you must follow; these are the places you must go and the things you should see. Trust this person, but not that person. Oh, and this is what you should believe.
Exercise critical thinking.
You are acted upon and act upon others. Consider those acts.
The guidelines were laid out long ago. The pathways set in stone for you to follow and with no one with the patience or curiosity to wait and see where you might go and what you might do. How would they know? Parents, society, surveys, even yourself. How would they know? How do you know?
Guidelines are merely suggestions.
It’s easy to give up and blindly follow the roads of others. It’s easy to believe you have no power. The world will try to architect you and your path your whole life if you let it. On the flip side, you will feel immense pressure to architect yourself and all your experiences and create a structure and a life and an order that is pleasing to the plan.
But is it pleasing to you?
It’s good to have plans. But the best laid plans—like the best-intentioned footpaths—can veer off and find their own, better direction.
With that in mind, remember:
Not all words have been written.
All the saids have not been said.
No one has heard it all.
And final is never final.
In other words: Feel free to step off any path you did not make yourself.
Watch the Video about the themes in this post 👇
This week’s amends…
“Be happy in the doing.” My guy.
Transcript:
“You don’t have to suffer to show suffering. You don’t have to be filled with turmoil to show turmoil. Have it in the story. I don’t know what goes on in artists’ heads, but I think all the great artists loved working. A lot of people say, well, suffering is good for art. Look at van Gogh, they say. And I say, let’s take a look at van Gogh. van Gogh didn’t go out painting because he hated it. The only time he was happy, probably, was when he was painting. He painted because he loved to paint. And the rest of his life was pretty miserable. He didn’t sell anything. He was broke. A lot of times he was probably really hungry. It’s just common sense. Suffering reduces. Is the enemy…negativity is the enemy of creativity. It’s common sense. If someone is depressed they say they don’t even feel like getting out of bed let alone working.
If you’re sad or if you’re filled with bitter anger, that occupies the mind. Maybe you do angry paintings. So what? You could do angry paintings, but be happy in the doing. This romantic idea is a French idea, I say. This guy is starving in the garrett. It’s so romantic. He’s cold. He’s starving. And it’s romantic. It’s romantic, really, for everyone but him. If he was honest, he’d say I don’t wanna be cold and freezing here. I don’t wanna live this charade that, you know, this is cool. I don’t wanna be starving. I wanna feel good and paint. If they’re really honest it would be a lot better to do the work and not suffer. And especially if they knew that more ideas would flow, and the work could, you know, blossom, you know, who knows where.”
- David Lynch
Via the algorithm.
On Rotation: “Free Today” by Albertine Sarges
Well, here’s a link that I’ve had in my ‘to post’ since the start of lockdown. Sorry it took so long. How do the rooms we live and work in shape up, and how do we shape the rooms?
Rooms is a print and film project that explores the connections between mental and physical spaces through conversation, illustration, design, and animation.
Made In collaboration with shelfshelf, a publishing imprint and collaborative graphic design practice operated by Lucas Reif and Austin White in Chicago, IL
Via Aeon
Spell your name out in LandSat imagery.
Via Eric Maierson’s Fav 5
Shameless Podcast Plug
Listen to audio versions of early issues of The Stream on my podcast, Field of Streams, available on 👉 all major podcasting platforms 👈
Here’s Apple