Life is improv. Life is in perpetual beta. I hoped to get this picture perfect, but the burn barrel got between my son and the sky and his sillouette isn’t placed exactly where I wanted it. Oh well. I can obsess or I can let it go.
Or can I? I will always try to make it better. I will always try to get a taste of perfect, of what I meant to capture, meant to say, or to write.
As I was walking to catch the streetcar this morning I thought about my 8 Creative Types, and concluded that they should really be ‘Modes’. I’m currently stuck in Dreamer mode, and need to shift to Producer mode now. Sometimes, especially when I’m just falling asleep, I slip into Crazy mode and get wild, disconnected ideas. Other times I attempt to practice a sound or a melody and shift into Mimic mode.
So when are we finished? When we are dead is my answer. That’s when the improv curtain drops. Until then, it’s all up for grabs. Every moment, every single moment, is an opportunity to try to do something as amazing as you can muster.
When I lived in BC, I loved looking at the mountains. I promised myself that I wouldn’t take them for granted. And every day when I left my apartment I would see the mountains and remember my vow. “I love looking at you,” I would say, quietly (because it would seem a bit odd to a stranger walking by). Even when it rained, even when thick rolls of fog lay over my view, I would think of those mountains. I would take a deep breath, as if I could contain their essence, and exhale a certain sense of contentment. I try to do the same things now with my kids. I try not to forget to kiss them goodnight. Or to give them hugs. Or to not get too annoyed at their perpetual requests for water after bedtime… they are finite moments, but if I can appreciate them daily, if I can make them a part of me, then I can extend the feeling longer.
I long for perfection. For a moment of perfect, blissful creation. But I’ll keep showing you the in-between stuff too. Perhaps this is what drives me.

When you want a pristine and perfectly uniform green lawn, dandelions are hated. They are disgusting weeds with prickly leaves. But on their own, they are stunningly bright and detailed bee-attractors. So which is it? Why do we create a perspective that demands an industry of weed-killing products? Did you know these little plants are good in salads, or that they make colourful, tasty jelly? Up close, they are really beautiful plants.
There’s got to be an analogy in there somewhere.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
~ Leonard Cohen, “Anthem”

I also really like elipses. And yes, I had to Google, “elipsis plural” to know what to call more than one elipsis…

At any given time I have 30+ tabs open, and am obsessed with saving them. I use two Google Chrome extensions to manage this: FreshStart and Session Buddy. I do microresearch constantly, and go off on literally scores of tangents sometimes from one core idea.

I love numbers. I used to sit and watch my clock radio when I was a kid, just to watch the numbers turn over. I would often count, clicking my teeth together every second, and see how closely my counting to sixty would match up with the changing numbers. Sometimes I was within two seconds of counting off a minute. I could spend an hour doing this as a kid. Watching a clock. And yes, I like watching paint dry too: the way it goes from wet and shiny to matte, the way the matte spreads in reverse across the surface… I also love watching the numbers when downloading torrent files (legal ones of course!). I like knowing exact speeds and percentages. I always have.

I love riffing off of an idea. I like trying to push an idea off a cliff and see how it handles falling, twisting, landing. This might sound macabre, but to me a boring idea is macabre. You will never know if an idea can fly unless you push it off a cliff.

I love the scene in the movie Amélie (which has a much better French title: Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain) where the narrator describes the sensational likes and dislikes of various characters. Amélie likes the feeling of pushing her hand into a bag of dry beans…

I love statistics. I remember numbers better than names. I suffer from minor ‘nominal dysphasia’ where I forget a person’s name before they are finished telling it to me. I learned this term by watching the reality tv show Survivor where a character brought up his condition. For some reason, I didn’t forget the name of the condition, but the name of the character escapes me. Recently I needed to remember the numbers 6183, so I did some microresearch on boxofficemojo.com. I can remember the year movies came out, so I knew that if I blended Breakfast at Tiffany’s with Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi, I wouldn’t forget it. So I came up with Breakfast On Endor. Now I don’t forget that number. (And yes, I looked up Endor on Google to see if I spelled it correctly.) What was your name, again?

I just realized that now you’ve realized a lot more about me than I intended to write about today. Because I like to post every day, I usually keep some notes of interesting things I come across, or thoughts that come up, or discussions, or even current events. Today is my son’s birthday. He turned 7. I thought I would write about that, but nothing came to me. I write about him quite often, and it just didn’t flow.

I was going to write about some other numbers: like how I just passed four thousand followers on Twitter, but that sounds like bragging (but see how I slipped that in there anyway?). My most recent SlideShare upload about The 8 Creative Types became the Presentation of the Day, and got over 20,000 views so far. That made me happy. It also means I have to get off my ass and write more about it. My bullsh*t Klout score, which I still check even though I hate it and think it’s wrong, went up a point. And despite the FITC conference this month, my website hits for April were over 500 less than March. These numbers are not important, but are no less interesting because of their irrelevance.

I think that’s all the realization I need to make today. It came upon me in a wave of rapid fatigue, that I should stop writing and get some rest.

• Kryptonite - Rare, radioactive ore from Superman‘s home planet of Krypton. It comes in many colours, but the most common is glowy and green. Created by DC Comics.
• Adamantium - Man-made, nearly indestructible metal alloy most famous for being fused with the Wolverine‘s bones. It is nearly colourless and shiny. Created by Marvel Comics.
• Liquid Metal- Nanomorphic mimetic poly-alloy used by Skynet to build the T-1000 robots from the Terminator series. Created by James Cameron.
• Unobtanium – Rare mineral mined on Pandora, a planet near Alpha Centauri. Created by James Cameron for his movie Avatar.
• Amphilicite – A mineral that is mostly inert, but becomes a potentially universe-destroying energy source after processing. Created for J.J. Abrams’ show Fringe.

Now imagine a Liquid Metal robot with an Adamantium exoskeleton powered by Amphilicite, with a Kryptonite core encased by Unobtanium. It could be a DC/Marvel cross-over, directed by James Cameron and produced by Bad Robot, Abram’s production company where this… well… bad robot from an alternate future fights Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Green Lantern, the X-Men, and the Avengers. Joss, if you’re reading this, call me.

Here are the eight types and [Jason Theodor's] explanation of each:

We all have impossible ideals of what we might use things for, especially with kids, and we forget that kids think differently than adults. They are messy. They don’t have the same logic pounded into them. They are not hampered by needing to do things ‘correctly’, or neatly, or rightly, or any other kind of ‘ly’. They just do.

I think the Fred Food Face people should consider doing before and after shots… because I can’t stop laughing at how disgusting (and fun) this can really be.

The Reason: My mobile app didn’t work properly.

The Excuse: I wrote a long post on my iPhone using the buggy WordPress app, which doesn’t always update properly. I chose to write a quick ‘photo’ post, which isn’t always reliable. When I hit send, it have me a ‘PUBLISHED’ message. The next morning I checked my stats and the post hadn’t gone through. I checked my phone, and the post was in a confusing section called ‘Local’. I tried publishing it again, and it sort of worked, except it left out the picture. I back dated the post so that I would associate the post of the appropriate day (since I did write it that day after all). That confusion then caused me to think I had written a post for Monday, which I hadn’t, and then Monday’s post also fell behind.

See the difference? The more you talk about it, the more that can be questioned and the more you (potentially) incriminate yourself. And the more excuses you make, the more it sounds like life is out of control, and you with it. I try to give measured reasons for things and take responsibility. It doesn’t always work, because I like to get into the details and I have an inborn sense of ‘extreme fairness’ that has been blunted by the harsh weight of reality. But as soon as I become conscious of sounding defensive, I try to reel in the excuses and get down to the basic facts.

I should have been a lawyer.

At the risk of getting all motivational-postery, I’ve been pondering my propensity toward impatience. I always want to be in the future. “It’s the journey that counts, not the destination.” But actually they are both good. One isn’t better than the other, just shorter. You are short changing your ‘be here now’ time by living for a finish line. I have to remind myself DAILY to really, truly experience each small step, to be conscious of and appreciate the progress as well as the goal. Here’s to the next realized baby step. Cheers.