February 17, 2010

Fiction and Reality, Busy and Slow

Today, while catching up with my friend Nicole, we reflected on how our work is getting busier. We agreed that "things are loosening up with the economy," money is starting to flow and new work is coming in.

When more work hits you have to have the resources and infrastructure in place to make it flow. Otherwise, you hit overload. This ramping-up process can be shocking to the system, especially after 18 months of slow. It reminds me of when I use to wait tables. Slow lunch shifts made us sluggish and then transitioning into dinner you had to take the speed of brain and body activity up a few notches. Funny that I always got more done when I was super slammed and less when the shift was slow.

Now that I am beyond busy, I am absorbing and processing endless bits of information and taking action or delegating. The seven email addresses I maintain were already feeding me too much info and now I'm continuously zipping between each of them on my Blackberry and iPhone.

Giving myself a little vacation this weekend I had ample personal time and didn't know what to do with myself. On Sunday I actually got into my car, Fiona, to go on a mini driving adventure but couldn't find motivation to go in any particular direction. I drove a few blocks, pointlessly, before deciding to head up into the Oakland Hills the "back way" through Orinda. It was a beautiful little get-away.

Yesterday my friend Irfan and I took a photography road trip out to two California Missions. We inspire each other to jump-start our photography as we are both battling burnout - despite our love of image-making. It was a good adventure, made even better by having a friend to shoot with. Images coming soon.

So, it seems that work is on overdrive and free-time is on a low gear. Not that I need to fill every minute with activities but the reverse swing of busy is "sit and watch Sons of Anarchy DVDs in big doses and imagine I am a gangster." I even had thoughts of getting a motorcycle license and a tattoo. That little drive out into the Oakland Hills was fueled by imagining I would see my favorite motorcycle club guys cruising beside me on the road.

When does fiction become reality? When does work become life? When do "on" and "off" separate? How do I find myself in balance between the two? Being in the arts, that division is becoming blurrier.
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