Otherwise it becomes yet another draft
Today, during a Gtalk conversation with a friend, I wrote this:
I have so many drafted posts over the last few months. If I compare this with how I blogged a few years ago, for instance in February 2005, I become shamefully aware of a level of not only self-censorship, but also a lack of visible curiosity.
When did I stop being curious?
Did it ever stop, or am I just imagining it?
Am I finally turning old and ’set in my ways’?
So, tonight, I have been trying to summarise some of the moods I have gone through the last days, weeks, month. Since the day the election was announced.
This weekend I have also begun preparing for the video I will publish on December 24th - my 3 year anniversary “as a videoblogger”. I ask myself: “Has it only been three years?”
A mixture of feelings, a rush, has crippled me at times during these last weeks. At the same time, I have a strong determination growing. That wants to stop being in some ivory tower anymore. I know that I have a quite theoretical approach to videoblogging, and it is a shame. A shame that I haven’t “put my money where my mouth is”. A shame because I for instance could have done so much more for my friends in Nepal and Serbia when it comes to videoblogging. (If you dont remember: In Spring 2005 we were some vloggers who gathered funds to send a camera to a friend of mine, Prakash, from Kathmandu. He has unfortunately not videoblogged much. I also gave away my own camera to a friend of mine from north-eastern Serbia, and he posted some videos here. He was actually mentioned in New York Times once.)
If I had a more practical approach to videoblogging, I would do More to push for political videoblogging in Venstre in Norway during (and especially after) the Election campaign in 2005.
“Man skal ikke gråte over spilt melk” is a Norwegian saying that I should heed in this case. (= Don’t cry over spilled milk)
It is 03:17 Saturday night / Sunday morning, and this post has several times been close to be put as a draft. I am watching CNN and there is a programme about corruption in Africa. Kenya? The sound is off. I read some of the subtitles, and I shiver inside. Corruption IS more scary, to me, than any jack the ripper. Yes, I meant what I expressed in the movie I made for Fear Revere.
I think about my family. My grandmother in her home for the elderly in Bergen. I have not visited her in a very long time. I am scared of seeing her again. I am scared of seeing such a smart, intelligent woman who I have the utmost respect for be so touched by Alzheimer’s. I read most of her books, her poems, her plays, when I was younger.
I think about my relatives, doing what they do, be it politics, or studying, or teaching, or just plain living, working their trade.
Earlier tonight I talked with Bre Pettis on IM, and we agreed to do a speedvlog.
Here is his video:
And here is mine:
I liked his memories, his feelings, hopes.
Ad hoc. You can SEE how Bre remembers moments from his past. Golden, in my book.
A few days ago, I made this video but the blog post that was supposed to go with it ended up as another draft:
The african journalist is still uncovering corruption on CNN.
It is 03.30.
I will go in and hug the gf while she sleeps, and fall asleep myself. See you all tomorrow.
Trackbacks
Use this link to trackback from your own site.
DLTQ, the undead.