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 grĂ¥te 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.
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DLTQ, the undead.