I haven’t posted anything up here in quite awhile so I’ll cut the shit and get right to it…
I hadn’t been all that happy recently. I’d become increasingly frustrated with life and couldn’t put my finger on what had been bothering me. Characterizing it as a “bother” doesn’t give the extent of my abrasiveness its proper due; I was an asshole, not to put too fine a point on it (and my profuse apologies go out to one person in particular who was hurt by said confusion: I am so very sorry).
But it wasn’t until very recently, with my renewed interest in type, and really studying Robert Bringhurst’s The Elements of Typographic Style, that I started to put it all together. I realized something was missing.
I’ve always had trouble linking my former life to my present one, creatively speaking (chalk it up to little more than my being lazy). As a result of the injuries I sustained in my car accident most, if not all, of my former creative outlets needed to be altered — at least, the ones that could be. And if they couldn’t be changed satisfactorily, I stopped pursuing them all together. This, I assure you, is not nearly as harsh it sounds. Interests change, and other activities simply fill your satisfaction gap.
Most of my sketches (read: doodles) from before my accident were essentially just line drawings of letter forms. Aside from formal art projects in high school, I can’t remember drawing much but various shapes that formed, in most respects, words. And it’s type’s “rigidity,” that is, its adherence to rules, that makes my dorky side drool. “I loved the satisfaction I could get from order.*”
And with that the lightbulb came on. It all makes perfect sense now: I love creating within limits. I need to feel limit. My life is one huge limit. That explains why I’ve never, even for a second, felt the need to be sorry for myself over what happened to me. I live for this shit! And I’m in the perfect situation to absolutely shatter expectation.
With this recognition, I recognize that, in fact, I can more effectively push my own creative limits from this chair.
* A quote lifted from a recent email conversation I recently had with my good friend Matt.