Profound, Pretentious
If you’ve happened to find yourself here, I can only assume two things – you’re either a close friend, or curious stranger; either way, I am grateful for your interest. Now I don’t know about you, but I always seem to feel that the first page is sacred, and I’m obligated to write some sort of impactful statement in an attempt to drive whatever lies ahead into motion - the crux of every first journal entry. All of which, we never know; and from what I’ve learned through journaling, is that it simply does not matter. The goal is just get it out & onto the page. However, it should be recognized that sometimes ideas and goals must be put in motion with Intent.
So at the risk of being profound & pretentious; please enjoy the following collection of contemplations, perhaps adorned with overly flowery language and philosophical ramblings. But understand the intent of this journal is to serve as a canvas for my self-expression and creative cultivation of the authentic self.
So, let’s set the tone… Slow it down, take it back to the days when time dragged on. You sat curbside, friends knew where to find you, or when to be there. You set a time, if you were early you waited, you kicked rocks, you smelt the flowers; when together you’d shoot the breeze. These days, we’re so quick to escape, be distracted, actively seek - distraction. We’ve forgotten how to be bored. The thing about boredom is that it usually led to some sort of magic; and when you were in it, you were present and it made the day. Other times, even if it meant parting ways and calling it a night, you’d revel deeper in the moment the next time it arose. All the while zero concern for external attention via online posting. It was you, and the gang. And if you weren’t there, boy was the fomo real during story time.
Lens is More seeks to capture this… the romanticized state of being Present. So often we yearn for the “Golden Days,” this reminiscence of prior decades harbouring better times. It is a flawed thought disguised in the ruse of nostalgia. Nostalgia is a gift and a curse; every day we take the little moments for granted. Day dreaming of sleek chromatic architecture, the grandiose future, imagination and science-fiction. Although dreaming does foster growth and development, this far-fetched ideology has been the same dream since the mid 20th Century which has now materialized into the palm of our hands - the holy metaverse - very Ready Player-One (as a gamer, I too excitedly dream to experience this one day… oops). But! the circumstance should not disguise the principal in question.
Take a look around… industrial smoke stacks are still pumping pollutants, rubber is bound to asphalt and brick & mortar is at every corner. This ethereal vintage aesthetic is still alive and well today and will be for years to come. The allure of vintage clothing, the nostalgia for simpler times — it's a sentiment that resonates deeply, even as we hurtle towards an uncertain future. In this exponentially growing digital era, it's easy to get caught up and overlook the tangible world around us. There was a time when boredom was a luxury, not a burden. Sitting on a porch, lost in thought or conversation, there was a sense of contentment in simply being present.
…estar aqui ahora…
Are you present? Are you fulfilled? Are you Happy? Montag [451]… or are you chasing the dragon? I know I was, and quite possibly still am to some degree. The truth is I’ve kicked the distractions, hell I’ve been partying for twenty years. Lots of great memories and skills picked up along the way, sure, no major regrets (maybe a few, but that’s for another journal entry) but I came to realize I wasn’t fulfilled the same way I once was. I had lost that childlike curiousity, misplaced my youthful abandon, diving head first into creative interests. Reclused myself and with held my expression from the hyper-connected socials. I’ve battled with my own addiction problems, I found myself numb, always in the familiar vicious state of recovery.
“Create an environment where you’re free to express what you’re afraid to express.”
Being a bachelor in a Big City is like Nevernever Land - Thirty became the new Twenty - the normalcy to drink in public spaces and never get off the metaphorical bus was damn near impossible. I admit it is an absolute blast okay. Almost contradictory to my entire journal entry - You’re riding a bike - the key to the city - with your friends and just hopping around from bar to park to tapas to beach… there is so much fun to be had and explore BUT there is a sentiment of reckless abandon when over indulged. Whereas if you aren’t maintaining a level of self awareness and control it can quickly become a repetitive waste with inevitable burnout.
I hit that wall this past holiday season after roughly a decade under the influence on said bus. One night for the third time within a week I found myself in a good friends kitchen at 11am hammering drinks (truly blissful, a cherished moment) and said to myself that was the last hoorah. I had hit my wall for the nth time. And after the oh so familiar week of clouded recovery I started to focus on routines and goals, pursuing any creative interest I had. Take care of the vessel, foster mental clarity, anxiety dissolves, in-turn productivity becomes the fulfilment machine, and I absolutely love it!
Give up the vices that bog you down - it’s not easy, in fact it’s so fucking hard - but growth isn’t linear and we all have our breaking points. So strive for it, be gentle on yourself, know it is possible, and when you really lean into your authenticity it is a beautiful feeling of inner peace - purpose. For me, it’s being creative, absorbing interests and knowledge in an attempt to be as cultured as possible - the revered Cultured Man. A strong constitution I believe we’ve strayed from as a society, or perhaps has evolved [I’ll explore in greater detail at a later junction]. The point is to achieve peak experiences [Abraham Maslow] a profound sense of accomplishment rewarded from your labour; so much so that once you have them you’ll habitually seek to repeat them. So as I wear my heart on my sleeve, I feel more empowered when I act on inspiration - flow state - than diming my light. The sense of purpose is intensified and rewards are tenfold.
“All those distractions, they’ll beg us to stay.
We’ll give new meaning to running away.”
I’ve always played with the idea of sobriety and still do - but for me, I prefer to call it pseudo sobriety - a much more earned and disciplined lifestyle. Looking back, I was always creative, writing music, being actively savvy with the arts or athletics. As an adult over the last decade however, it was always 5 steps forward 3 steps back. Apathetic accountability. This past Quarter I’ve attained a level of fulfilment I haven’t felt since my late teens. Blissfully ignorant of drugs & alcohol, surrounded by good friends, long days/endless nights, skateboards and no damned dopamine machine.
That’s the essence - the experience that was tangible then but seemingly intangible now; yet holds such positive weight. I actively seek this. A departure from focusing solely on a career, or dependency on love to fulfill the soul - for me that is a one dimensional mindset. Look inward, find your Authentic Self then spend every moment you have available to fostering and cultivating that aspect of who you are. The rest will follow. Cultivate your garden.
I’m not going to lie or pretend I know what the heck I’m doing. There is most certainly an overarching sense of self-doubt littered with insecurities sharing my internal dialogue in an attempt to articulate cluttered incoherent thoughts and publishing its growth publicly. At the same time it would be a disservice to myself to not put it out there and let the pieces fall where they may. At this very moment, as a writer (aside from a handful of lyrics) and photographer (4 rolls deep) I am - at the core - a blank slate. I have no expectations and that generally delivers the best results – because it’s pure uninhibited creativity.
May I be as foolishly entranced as Don Quixote’s romantic delusions seeking chivalrous deeds; yet actually listen to his sensible Squire Sancho. As optimistically determined as Voltaire’s Candide, to push forward despite any and all tragedies fate may bestow upon my bold and artistic endeavours. While I strive to harness the prose of Kerouac, the unabashed vulnerability of Fante, the raucous apathetic honesty of Bukowski - tied together with the philosophical Zen of Alan Watts sprinkled with modern day Stoics, Greene and Holiday. Somewhere in the middle may I find my personal style, or fall flat on my literary face, wasting words on lower cases and capitals… building upon their ideas and sharing them through my experience. I only hope that this platform evokes some emotion; for it not to foster anything would be the greatest misfortune.
I’d like to leave you with a quote a friend recently shared that resonates deeply with me; maybe as well for anyone who is reluctant to be vulnerable in any form.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
This quote emphasizes the importance of courage taken to put yourself out there, unabashed; rather than focusing on the criticisms of others. It's about being actively engaged in life and striving towards authentic goals, regardless of the possibility of failure.
Lens is More isn't just a mantra; it's a philosophy - a call to slow down, romanticize the vintage aesthetic of the present moment. To recapture the childlike wonder & youthful abandonment spent idly on the curb, lost in the magic of boredom. It's about rediscovering the joy of being truly present, unencumbered by the constant distractions of the digital age.
Let’s return to the days when boredom fueled imagination and simple pleasures were enough. Embrace our innermost thoughts and vulnerabilities, daring greatly in the pursuit of authenticity.
Close Friends & Curious Strangers,
Por Siempre y Para Siempre…
