I'm on the A subway to Rockaway Beach today. I'm listening to *The Best of Kylie Minogue*. I've listened to it so many times at this point that the lyrics don't really interfere with my writing process.
It's my friend Casey's birthday. He's the one I forked this site from! He said he was at the beach, so...
It's a Monday afternoon. The last time I went to the beach on a "workday" was back when The Creative Independent was just beginning. We were starting something completely new, so there were endless questions. I had proposed that a viral internet video of a deer jumping in the water be the moving background of the site. We kept trying to get in touch with the mysterious French author of the video, but it was no use.
I remember leaving the office, thinking, "I have to find the homepage video out in the world." The site would launch the next week. I went to the beach. I saw the sun reflecting on the sand/water and filmed it. I set it in slightly slow motion using iMovie on my iPhone. The site launched with that video.
"Those who keep moving have more time than those who don't move at all," says the barista in the video game Pokémon Moon. This, among other quips, I returned again and again to absorb: "They say time is money, but time is actually really important," and "Once time has passed you by, it will never come back. And no one is selling more time."
I've been thinking a lot about routines and time. It goes back to why I started this blog.
Coffee time can also sometimes feel like a portal to a zone. "Just one sip and you'll be hooked" said the barista. There are many inputs (places, people, substances) that do this sort of thing to time, rendering it into *zones*.
As humans, time is our most precious medium. I love the chorus "Time won't give me time" from the 80s British pop band Culture Club's song "Time." Indeed, not all times are equal. I like time because while it may first seem about quantity, it's really the quality of time that makes it valuable.
It's kind of like the difference between being lonely and being in solitude, isn't it?