Uncertain, scared and mentally blocked...

One of the things I worry about in this fantastic experiment (mentioned in yesterday's post) is the fact that, at some point, there has to be a form of creative exhaustion. There will only be so many times that I can write about washing my hands before things become truly OCD on my part.

In any case, I've made a hard stop to read a book that I received from Amazon while I was out of the office - Street Shadows: a Memoir of Race, Rebellion, and Redemption.

Already, the book is sounding like a repeat of the Night of the Gun (David Carr's own memoir - you can find my review of that book by clicking here and searching [ctrl+f] for my name), which would not be such a bad thing as it is much shorter.

I picked the book because I thought that it might help me to understand some of the culture that I currently live in.

We'll see how that works out.

In the mean time, I'll think of something witty (or not so) to say. One of the things I've been thinking about lately refers to a comment I overheard at a recent holiday party. Essentially, this person asserted that the Bible couldn't be trusted because the people who wrote it were doing so with an agenda. I can agree to that - postmodern criticism would push us to the understanding that no one writes, thinks, speaks, etc. without an internal or underlying bias. But, the argument of what that agenda means and the implications of that agenda is something that's been on my mind a lot today.

Plus...that one's a lot easier than the other points brought up - inequality as practiced by the church, hoarding of wealth, denial of guilt / wrongdoing, etc.

I only mention it without writing about it because I'd like to handle it in a somewhat scholarly manner - you know...with footnotes and stuff.

So...is anyone still reading [this] blog anymore?

By the way...I head that agenda was to [in the future] sell vacuums and anything else that would look nicer with Jesus posted all over it (dental services, medical services, real estate, restaurants, etc.).

The grand experiment...

I've decided that this would be the year that I would take on some of the traits of an obsessive compulsive without the detriment of having an undesirable and otherwise inexplicable compulsiveness.

So really...I'll just become obsessive with things. This, however, is probably a bit of an underlying trait I carry anyways.

Though many of these will seem like resolutions, they aren't - I'm not promising anything and I'm not necessarily trying th change anything about myself (as I believe resolutions are usually meant for). Also, I think that the general non-commitment of a non-resolution will ultimately aid me by not causing me to feel guilty about something else I haven't done and why I haven't done it.

Right.

So, here are a list of things that I'll experiment in being obsessive with over the next few or twelve months and we'll see how it pans out. BTW: If you notice me washing my hands to the point of bleeding or checking the locks four or five times before I leave the house, please help me.

1. I'd like to blog everyday. This could be anything. It could be a picture or a blurb. I'd like to do it just for the fun of seeing how things turn out over the course of the year. I'm also hoping that this gets me into taking more pictures - which is something I used to love to do.

2. I'd like to run a mile a day. Big whoop, right? Again - something I used to love to do but just haven't been in to since I have such a long commute. A mile isn't a huge commitment though - something I could do in a short amount of time before I leave for work in the mornings (and even on the road). I really wouldn't mind setting a goal of 1,000 miles this year (I didn't run yesterday, btw, but I'm fairly certain that I walked over a mile).

3. I'd like to spend an entire month posting pictures. Look for it. I live in a beautiful city with unique scens I'd like to share with you and the rest of the world. Did I ever tell you that I took a photography class in college? Well, I just did.

4. I would like to read 26 books. Easy - if there's a book I'm in to, I can usually read through in a day or two. I more than likely read more than this in 2009 but just didn't keep track. I'm reading Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris right now. Utter hilarity.

5. Have someone to our house for dinner once a month. That is...someone I don't know very well. There are a lot of people I'd like to know better. That's only twelve meals.

6. Begin martial arts training. Sike.

I think that this will keep me busy while still leaving me time to do that thing I do to pay the bills.

Also...I think it will be fun. You know...if I don't become OCD...

New Year...

It is 2:33AM.

I am baking bread.

It is the new year.

The night is more still than what I'm used to. Probably because it is now 2:34AM.

There is an occasional car that drives down one of the main streets. For some reason...none of the mufflers here seem to work too well.

At midnight, there were fireworks. I was mixing dough.

It is in the stillness that I can hear the clock ticking. My heart is beating. There is a low hum coming from the fan that Laura turns on to produce white noise when we're asleep.

And still...an occasional car.

Have I ever talked to you about my idea of the relative nature of time? I've talked to Laura a lot about it. This minute now is the fastest minute I've ever experienced, but it's not the fastest minute I'll ever experience within the breadth of all of time.

More importantly... does the shortness of this minute matter any more or less than the span of the minutes preceding or following this point in time?

In terms of time...no.

In terms of substance? Maybe.

I look at our Christmas tree. It's been up for nearly a month. This is something I've thought about for a while now, but just haven't found the time to write it out (until I decided to finish making bread at 2:43AM). That is, this Christmas tree is carrying the weight of sadness from the past. There are relics and ghosts who call out only to find themselves locked behind glass or lamps or plastic or yarn. They show the burden of years and bear memories whose depths are more than may be measured.

2010. Bread.