Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I watched the reaction of my friend as I told him my plan. I try not to burden people with my overzealous fervor... but no matter how calm, cool and collected I begin, that shit oozes out like a heavily-stuffed Stromboli. My excitement sometimes bores those around me, forcing them to ask themselves, "Why did I ask him how his business is going?"
But this time it was different. The reaction my rants garnered solidified my reasons for exclamation.
No more 9 to 5, I said.
A smile appeared.
No more making money for people I will never meet.
An enthusiastic nod. No more deadlines unless I make them.
Maybe I heard an "Amen" somewhere in there.
The glazed look of disinterest was not present. It was a friend seeing their friend shed the smothering shell of corporate bullshit. A true friend witnessing blossoming moments of dreams and freedom. At the end of my soliloquy I was told about the dozens of people that have professed the same as I just had.
The difference being that I live it.
I took the blind leap into the vast, fog-ridden desert that is small business. With nerves of cotton candy pretending to be steel, I took the reigns in an attempt to tame the beast. Only time will tell whether the outcome is prosperous...but without valiant effort the results would only be speculation. The reaction my thoughts inspired showed me that my path was not predetermined. It has been trail-blazed by vision, sweat and experiment.
Do not sit back and watch those that do.
Be one of those that is being watched.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
You wake up in the morning and it's already started.
A sense of urgency.
The jolting feeling in the bottom of your empty stomach that reminds you:
Today holds the opportunity to create. To take care of business. To show the world, but more importantly yourself, that your existence means something.
Today facilitated the ability to love, hate, endure and progress.
Ideas clutter your morning routine. Swipes on a scrap paper as you wash your face. Email with one hand as the other mindlessly grinds plaque from your clenched grill. Kiss your family, make breakfast and hit the proverbial door running.
Time is merely an invention of man.
Time allows and disallows greatness. The choice is ours. Create. Learn. Fail. Try again.
Your fingers shake with nervous anticipation as you tape down your vision, and you beg the Screenprinting Gods to let this image fly. You hold your breath as high-pressured water flows ruthlessly at stretched silk. The next ten minutes tell whether hours of preparation will equal success.
Revenge is sweet, but honest success never breeds guilt. Ever.