To exist strictly within the walls of introversion is to go no further than where your hands can reach. As a writer and an overall not terribly enticing human, I have grown to find pieces of clarity within the words that come from deep within my own head, rather than the interactions (or lack thereof) I have with others. Cecilia Knapp wrote in a poem, entitled Why I Write, "I'm at the mouth of the world just staring in, so I write to find a version of myself I'm not at odds with," and to be at this mouth and have my hands out, feigning for no more than what I already have feels like a false effort at figuring out where these words are coming from and why I can find no more of them. These thoughts, when shared with others, typically prompt the same response. To be told I'm an old soul because I have these thoughts. To be told I write with the clearest detail, "it feels like I'm there with you" (thus proving my attempt to be vague either very unsuccessful or very deceiving). I looked in my own eyes today and wondered how many lives they'd experienced before mine, to be living the way I do, while having become simultaneously in awe of my own generation's culture.
The power rests in our own hands to do what we want to with the things we create. That has held true for generations prior, but to grow in a generation that sees how to CREATE an opportunity, rather than to simply support one, is the definition of empowering. Trail blazing is nothing of a new breed of creatives. Trail blazing has never not been a power move. To see a hobby, to see a talent, to see the power in something that has never had light shone upon it before, and to create an opportunity, to make a wave and either ride it until it crashes back into its own ocean or to ride it to new oceans is instilling confidence in me I've never felt before. We are living in a time where new jobs are being created for talents that we never knew existed. We are living in a time where the power resides at our own fingertips to make our own future.
I remember being 9 or 10, standing in my living room. I remember standing on the awful red carpet, in front of the light brown entertainment system that held our TV, speakers, and plethora of DVDs, CDs and knick knacks in the side compartments. I always had bubblegum Orajel hidden on one of those shelves. I remember standing there and making my brother put on "nice clothes" which consisted of his church shoes, khaki pants, and a dark green collared shirt, probably a hand-me-down originally from Old Navy, to make him go sit in a tree so I could take his picture. I remember always wanting to have my hands on a camera. The sentiment rang true further back than then. There's a video from my youngest sister and brother's birth, from the hospital room, and my Uncle Jack says "I've got a camera that will take a picture and kick it RIGHT OUT," and my 6 year old voice promptly responds with "COOL!" Nice to see my impatience has persisted, as well. Through middle school, a camera remained always within arms length. I applied to be on the Yearbook committee my Freshman year, and was granted the acceptance for my Sophomore year. By the middle of my Sophomore year, I realized the photography spots were for those who could handle a camera and had the personality to. My Junior year, I was promptly suggested to write copies. My Senior year, to presumably soften the blow of not being enough of an ass kisser to be Senior Editor, an alternate editor position was made, and I was deemed "copy editor." I wrote and/or edited all of the words that went into the yearbook, while still applying to colleges for photography. Through all of this, even now well into my 20's, I've always known I'd never succumb to any "conventional" job.
Take conventional as you will. The stereotypical Doctor, Lawyer, Business owner, or even now, moving up the retail chain position by position, although still not conventional, becoming so more with every passing day. I've been spinning my wheels, then gaining traction and spinning out. I've been in retail, had enough of it, quit, then come back. We do what we can with what we're dealt, but I'm reaching the point where I feel like I'm not doing my youngest dress and flip flop wearing, Polly Pocket loving, "mom can I use your camera," loving everything self by not taking these trail blazing opportunities, even if the trail has already been blazed, and I'm just running by cooling off the burn marks.
At 18, I was invited to write on a music blog with two of my best friends at the time. Take pictures, write blog posts about shows I attend and albums I listen to, post it for the internet to see, and wait for another show to roll around to do it again. I loved it, even if I wasn't good at it. Two parts of my world, while still both creative in their own respective ways, coming into one, felt like a dream. Eventually everything stopped. I wasn't going to shows, I wasn't able to listen to full albums, and I wasn't able to coherently formulate words to talk about my experiences with either of those happenings. Even now, when someone asks me for opinions on pieces of music, my responses are, again, so locked in my own head and reflect that of a feeling or the scent of the world outside or that time in my life where I cut 8 inches off my hair and felt like I could kick ANYONE'S butt, they're never in more than a few words and resemble nothing I could make anyone else feel.
So at 18, there's a kid from Dallas in a boy band who have the 90's leaking out of the seams of their 2010's jeans. Just in a time TRL is coming back, they're finding their way to the stage and bringing the house down every time. Being donned "the next big thing," I believe it. He has had musical proficiency running through his blood his entire life, where I couldn't even be injected with it without my body rejecting it like a bad medication, and in the name of comparison, this is not even something I should be writing. But for only being a fan of this group for a few weeks, this kid has single-handedly made me believe in the ability to make your own path if there is not already one made for you. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of musicians I have met and support that do the same, but I see so much more in this guy at his 18 than I see in my almost 23. It is grounding and enabling. I want to grab a pen and paper or my notes in my phone and go write. I want to experience. I want to see the world as he sees it and write from it even if it is nothing anyone will ever see, and I want to be able to adequately write about the level of anticipation this one guy from this boy band is making me feel for my own reigning of opportunities.
The fervor is infectious. We've got our heads in our phones and in the right places, we're becoming workaholics because we have to and because we WANT to (in most cases). And who is not to say that the past hasn't been that way, like I've said before, but I'm not living then, I'm experiencing this now. If I'm going to live solitarily, I intend write about other people antithetically. The desire to unobtrusively immerse myself in the culture of the 20 somethings bustling around me is so overwhelming, it grabs me by the throat and wants to throw me in the deep end. What are you doing, why are you doing it, and why am I not reaching my hands further than they can touch to write about it?