Tag Archives: quoted

Quote: Robert Bresson

Make visible what, without you, might perhaps never have been seen.

–Robert Bresson

When I was younger, I thought originality was the most important thing you could aim for as a writer. Make things that nobody else could make. And that I was always falling short of this goal.

I spent years reading, writing, studying, and while I still believed it was important for a writer to have their own voice, it was clear that stories share elements with each other (even unintentionally).

Looking at this quote, I think about how perspective isn’t just manufactured. It’s not an affectation you put on (ex: That Barton Fink Feeling). Who you are, where you are, where you came from, and where you’re going—they all play into it.

By the very nature of existing as a singular person, that gives you a point of view different from other people.

And it would be a shame to not know that, and still believe there’s nothing about you that’s unique or original.

Side note: As an example, I started thinking about the connections between Winter Light, Diary of a Country Priest, and First Reformed. So I stumbled on to this great video about those films and several other existential stories:

Link: Video resolution shelf life

From Dan’s Daily:

I was recently talking to a friend who runs a film production company. We chatted about the huge amount of archival footage he has amassed over the past 16 years.

One interesting thing he shared was that video quality advances so quickly that footage older than 8 years old is generally no longer usable on modern projects.

About a year ago my dad wanted to show the kids a recording he made of my high school performance of The Wizard of Oz (I was the Tin Man).

He originally recorded it with a VHS camcorder, then ported it over to DVD at some point, and we were watching it on a 4K TV.

It did not feel like you were right there in the APHS gymatorium.

This post got me thinking about how the tech we use to capture moments doesn’t hold on to them very long. But maybe for some things that’s okay. We don’t last all that long, either.

Sometimes it’s better to let things burn

Nothing drives me nuts more than when somebody says, “Oh man, I have so many fires to put out. I got all these fires, everything’s urgent…”

[….]

To which I will say “So you’re being strategic about how you’re approaching everything right now?” and they’re like, “Well, yeah, but there’s so many fires.”

Do you know that firefighters legitimately will let things burn?

[….]

They go, you know what? Sometimes it’s better to let this burn so you can save this thing, as opposed to trying to attack the thing that’s burning and ignoring what could be next in line. Or the correlation and causation of what’s going on with the fire.

Mike Vardy, PM Talks S1E8: Urgency

I’ve used a lot of time in therapy lately to talk about issues with prioritization and trying to pare down my inflated list of Things I Wanna Do. Sara has an analogy about thinking of it as juggling, but some balls are glass and some balls are plastic.

Keep the glass ones moving, and let the plastic ones fall if you need to. You can pick them up later if necessary.

But this chunk of the PM Talks podcast series quoted above got at something else for me: Letting things go.

It’s not easy to look at something and either hit delete, or ship what’s there without those last perfectionism-influenced steps. It’s not easy because it feels like giving up.

But the savings in bandwidth, and the increased focus on the things that matter more? That would be a benefit. It’s not giving up, it’s giving space.

It also ties in to something from Cal Newport’s Slow Productivity:

There exists a myth that it’s hard to say no, whether to someone else or to your own ambition. The reality is that saying no isn’t so bad if you have hard evidence that it’s the only reasonable answer.

This frames it a little differently, but also creates something that might be an easier ask than the question of “What’s most important out of all this?”

“What must I say no to?”

Filling a void

“I was never addicted to one thing, I was addicted to filling a void within myself with things other than my own love.”

Yung Pueblo (via Swiss Miss)

It’s easy to say that it’s falling down a rabbit hole on Twitter. Or following a chain of recommended videos on YouTube.

Planning out a new keyboard build when I don’t actually need another one. Thinking through a new task management system when the old one would work fine if I used it instead of ignoring it to seek out something better.

But it’s all just filling time instead of using it.

Looking for something that’s already there, like a person with their glasses perched on top of their head.

My therapist keeps asking “What would it look like if you accepted yourself?” I haven’t had a good answer.

But I think what it wouldn’t look like is this dopamine-seeking loop. Hungry for something outside myself, but never really feeling full.

I always have a better day when I’m in the moment, with myself, paying attention and acknowledging what I care about.

But it’s often easy to let that slip. Not just because of how easy it is to find distraction, but how quickly the impulse to evade the present moment can take hold.

I would like to learn to be better at accepting the discomfort of the moment without having to expect that the result will be positive. That the outcome isn’t what gives something its value, but that the effort itself holds value.

And maybe that can help fill that void.