havana blogs

Really enjoying the Mac experience so far .. :D

I am fasting again.

Not for reasons I originally wanted, though.

Since last week, I've noticed a huge change in me -- a sort of mental crisis. I could NOT focus anymore. It plagues a lot of students. The stress I've been feeling is unlike any stress I've felt before. Last month, I felt like ripping out my hair and going crazy from all the work on my shoulders.

This stress, however, is quiet. Suffocating. Soul-crushing.

My attention span flickers. I cannot read two pages of text without getting antsy. Opening up a new email or blog post to read makes me feel stuffy. I can't NOT check my email or just one thing anymore. My mind is racing a million miles a minute. Even now as I write this, I am frustrated at my hand for not catching up with my mind. I have not written a page and I'm already anxious to do something else.

Every time I feel that anxiety and that need for new stimuli, I sink into self-loathing. I hate myself for not being able to finish projects. I hate not being able to slow down and appreciate words, art, music, nature, and astronomy as I used to only a few months ago. I hate myself for feeling apathetic.

Now, for Havana, feeling apathetic is like a DISORDER. I am emotional. Overly emotional? At times. I get excited! I get indignant! I get inspired and scared and romantic and resentful and depressed and thrilled. I do NOT get apathetic.

Yesterday, I turned in a paper that I can honestly say is the absolute worst paper I've ever turned in to a teacher. No, not the worst assignment. I actually thought the assignment was great: we got to pick any issue of our choice and analyze US foreign policy towards an issue. I chose US-Iran relations. I chose it because it is such an intense drama, almost like a modern-day Cold War. It's an interesting case on what happens when two entities share a relationship that lacks respect. (Being a total relationship junkie, I was stoked.)

But when I wrote it, I felt ... nothing. I didn't feel indignant. I didn't rant about the US's pigheadedness or Iran's hypocrisy. I simply and honestly did not care. I wanted to care.

But I didn't.

It also was the worst paper in terms of actual writing. In past semesters, teachers often complimented me on my ability to convey thoughts with words. Words came easily to me on paper.

When I wrote this paper, my sentience never strayed from subject-verb, subject-verb, subject-verb. I'd read the sentence over and over again, knowing it was crappy but not knowing HOW to make it better. Sentences were choppy. The essay was fit are a fifth grader.

Worst of all? I didn't even care. In fact, the inevitability of getting a D on this paper didn't even phase me.

That's what scares me.

I am terrified of becoming apathetic and unfocused and uncommitted. I thought about going to a psychiatrist to see if I had ADD. Pop some pills and hop I fly straight.

This week was like a sign to me. Seth Godin released a blog post about how we are becoming a drive-by culture thanks to the Internet.

Imagine if people went to the theatre or the movies and stood up and walked out after the first six seconds. Imagine if people went to the senior prom and bailed on their date three seconds after the car pulled away from the curb.

...

More and more often, we're seeing products and services coming to market designed to appeal to the momentary attention of the clickers. The Huffington Post has downgraded itself, pushing thoughtful stories down the page in exchange for linkbait and sensational celebrity riffs.

On Wednesday, my professor talked about how the Internet has physically morphed our brains not to be dumber, but to work faster ... to our detriment. How our brains can't focus for long periods of time reading or writing or doing any one thing. It's too used to multitasking and has become too demanding of different stimuli.

Ah-ha.

He shared an article from The Atlantic called "Is Google Making Us Stupid?":

And what the Net seems to be doing is chipping away my capacity for concentration and contemplation. My mind now expects to take in information the way the Net distributes it: in a swiftly moving stream of particles. Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski. I’m not the only one. When I mention my troubles with reading to friends and acquaintances—literary types, most of them—many say they’re having similar experiences. The more they use the Web, the more they have to fight to stay focused on long pieces of writing.

and a Frontline documentary on the age of distraction that surveys the effects of the Internet in society.

I thought about doing a complete tech fast. Flush out this dependence on instant gratification and distraction.

Well, Shef and I watched the documentary last night and it made me realize the Internet is NOT the problem. It is merely the tool. In fact, the Internet has done a lot of GOOD things too. In my experience:

• Through the Internet, I grew up with some of the most intimate, open, nourishing friendships I've ever had in my entire life and all these friendships were purely online. I think the friendships were so rich because (1.) it was largely glued together by online journaling, i.e. Livejournal and (2.) because of moderate anonymity, people are less inhibited to share their thoughts and feelings. This created very raw, intimate relationships.
• Were it not for the Internet, I would not have been exposed to so many new ideas, perspectives (different cultures, different subcultures and countercultures), art, music, and new areas of study (largely to the access to different documentaries and sites like Academic Earth.)
• Also, being exposed to so many new ideas EMPOWERED me. Growing up, I sort of just accepted whatever happened to me. I needed to just go to school, grab a major in something I didn't hate, and HOPE I find a good job. I was an artist, so I can’t do business or can't do math or can't understand science. I was shy so forget about getting connected with people. When I stumbled onto the blogosphere, it changed m world. I saw women who were living off of comfortable incomes doing stuff they enjoyed. I read about ordinary people who decided to lift themselves out of difficult situations and ended up living their dreams. People readily shared all kinds of knowledge on the Internet and I soaked it all up.

This blew my mind. Maybe it truly was possible for me to change myself. Just because I liked art didn't mean I was trapped in that field. I extended my interests and became a real education junkie. And maybe being an artist didn't have to mean lonely years starving in some dingy apartment somewhere. Maybe I could get a degree in something I enjoyed.

Too much of a good thing can be bad, however. Having so much information available to me and being able to summon entertainment ASAP has really royally screwed me over. So the Internet, like money, is really just a TOOL. It is not inherently evil in itself; it's the misusage that hurts us. I'll admit it. I multitask like a mofo. If I'm online for more than an hour, I never have less than 10 tabs open. I switch back and forth between emails, chats, Facebook, blog posts, and client work. Unitasking irritates me to no end.

But I cannot afford to cut myself from the computer, nor should I. My business is practically nothing without the computer. My clients would NOT be happy with a computer-less Havana. I would not be happy. I like being online. I love it.

But I need to go on a tech diet. I'm going to:

• Have one day each week (Sunday?) where I try my best to stay away from the computer. If it's urgent (school or work-related), I'll check in but keep usage to a max of 2 hours that day.
• Instead of hopping online, I'll read (Just ordered "American Short Stories 2009" and "American Best Essays 2009.") and write (personal journaling) or spend time with friends and family. If I need to do schoolwork or design, I'll just do the aspects that don't require a computer, i.e. sketching, planning, reading, writing ...
• When I surf, I cannot have more than three tabs open.
• Only read one article at a time.
• Set specific times of the day or check FB or Twitter.
• Meditate.

I am also fasting. Last week, I wanted to fast to lose weight. Now, I want to fast to PROVE to myself that I do have the self-control to resist instant gratification. From the Frontline documentary:

Multitasking and this new technology have made us used to satisfying an urge the moment it comes up.

When I want to eat, I just buy it. I cannot stand to be hungry for more than ten minutes. Even if I know I shouldn't buy a latte because I bought a frappucino yesterday, I'll pop in the drive thru. If I'm curious whether someone commented on a FB status update, I'll check in even if I have work to do. I want to reassure myself that I have the ability to withstand a bit of pain. The last time I fasted (of course I took vitamins and drank water and juice), it felt like a big spiritual test. It felt great. It made me realize how much of my daily thought is devoted to food ("Where should I eat for lunch today?" "Where will I get less carbs?" "What should I do for dinner?"). After the first three days, it stopped bothering me. I didn't ravenously devour everything when the fast was over. It was like I reset my urges.

I'm hoping to reverse my attention deficit by committing myself to unitasking. I'll share my results with you guys. :) Wish me luck.

Oy. I feel like I've got it bad these days.

:D

Both were inspired when Jimmy was introducing me to Amon Tobin last night. :D

My friend Jimmy and I did an impromptu creative jam last night where he improv some musical compositions and I drew whatever came to mind from the music. LOVED the entire process and I finally got to draw some personal art and explore stories in my art. I don't get to show this side of my art to many folks so I am happy to share with you here.

He had told me to wait for her here in the afternoon. Was it here or was it over there? Would he have been able to see me from wherever he'd be standing?

Well, he said he would come. No, no, I shouldn't worry about it - he WILL come. Okay, back to Jane Austen ...

"... Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins's making two offers of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison ..."

OHHHH, what could be taking him so long?! Oh wait, is that him? No, no, he's much too short ... oh wait, is that him?! Oh no, definitely not ...

Sigh. What a master of torment he is! However did I fall into this trap?

My friend Jimmy and I did an impromptu creative jam last night where he improv some musical compositions and I drew whatever came to mind from the music. LOVED the entire process and I finally got to draw some personal art and explore stories in my art. I don't get to show this side of my art to many folks so I am happy to share with you here. Jimmy was playing ukelele for this one ..

This was his only chance. He'd seen her wandering through the park. He'd peek through the sculpted bushes and trees, careful not to be seen. She was just so beautiful, so heavy with the elegance that came with aristocracy. How delightfully funny and polite she was; she was never apart from a gossiping, giggling, gaggle of girls.

Oh, how could he ever get her attention? He was but a peasant boy. She'd never pay him any attention.

But wow, could you imagine the joy that would blossom and infect inside from just one look from her?

He knew he had one chance. He was tired of being trapped. For weeks, he begged for various odd jobs: handing out the papers, tilling the farms, milking the cows, cleaning up the floors of the local pubs--

She loved flowers. He'd seen her stare at them in the park for hours. Yes, he would get her her very own bouquet.

Boy, was the village astounded that this peasant boy carried around such a marvelous, [expensive], alluring bouquet! He had even spent some money on some cheap sandals he found in a leather store.

As if fate had intended it, she had finally come to the park alone one afternoon. That sealed it -- he couldn't let this opportunity pass by. He had to do it.

This was His One Chance.