As someone who, by and large, works alone, I find myself coming up with ideas. All the damned time. They don’t necessarily have a straight path in moving from my head to some type of reality, due to lack of finances, shaky technical skills and countless other mix-ups that can trip up even the simplest of them.
These ideas come too frequently, at times, and without that over-the-cubicle vetting that office workers can employ (and, dare I say, enjoy), these schemes all seem really, really good. To me. At some point, I begin to act on them, solo or with a small group of (hopefully sympathetic) sympathizers. Some die a gruesome, public death, after being bounced into brief web life. Others are sent to an early passing via countless, unproductive e-mails. More just sit around, flat-lining through a few conversations of marginal encouragement and the bullying presence of newer concepts.
In some cases, there’s still a feeling that a project’s in there, untapped and somehow doable. In others, my thought is that some type of karmic good can come from freeing the information, allowing the germ of an idea to be picked up by somebody with the resources to make them happen.
In other, more-accurate words: I’m sick of the contents of my own skull. And in the spirit of some late-summer, mental housekeeping, I’m going to bounce out as many ideas as I can find from notebooks, scraps of paper, e-mail sent boxes and faulty memories. If this takes a week, it takes a week. It’ll probably take more than a single one, probably well into September. My five readers are welcome to comment, borrow or steal anything along the way, assuming there’s even the mildest basis of usefulness to them.
The process starts to play out tomorrow, with one that’s actually a project that could happen without a ton of cash and with marginal amounts of legwork. From there, bullets fly in all sorts of directions. Enjoy this embarrassing display of unfocused creativity and feel free to comment, pass along to idea-thieving pals or simply ignore.
The Great Unload, 2010. Should be stupid. And freeing. Type at you tomorrow…
Looking forward to it.
Signed,
n of 5