Today, I’m hesitant to write.
My mind is offering too many half-formed thoughts on subjects that I wish to treat adequately.
So, I think “not today” and file these potential themes into a list of ideas to return to later.
There’s a level of conceit in the way I impose these standards on myself. Surely giving a few days’ thought to something will rarely be sufficient to transform a rough or shallow piece into one that’s genuinely profound!
The level of depth, nuance, or sophistication to what I write is a self-imposed standard. It’s a subjective measure, reliant on a positive answer to the question: “is this piece of sufficient quality to put out into the world, with my name attached to it?”
I believe that artists (whether writers, filmmakers, musicians, or other “content” creators) ask themselves the same question all the time. The concept of “selling out” describes the shift in standards, from asking oneself “am I happy with the quality of this?” to accepting money in exchange for allowing someone else to ask that crucial question about your work.
Let’s shift perspective for a moment, to consider how we consume art.
In a way, when we repeatedly return to work done by the same artist, our judgement of its value shifts away from the art and towards the artists themselves. This is why Wes Anderson aficionados will watch any film he makes, regardless of the theme. Repeatedly positive experiences watching Wes Anderson’s films lead us to trust his judgement: if he thinks it’s good enough to produce, then it’s good enough for me to consume.
Thank you for reading. That’s all I have for today.