I have loved the beginning of things with an intensity the middle could never compete with, the gap between them is where most of what I started has quietly been forgotten,
I have loved the beginning because it asks almost nothing of me, holds every possible version of what the thing could become before reality begins eliminating them,
I have loved the beginning and resented the middle, not from laziness but from grieving the beautiful finished thing I could see and wondering why building it feels so much slower,
What should I do with the work that’s neither discovery nor arrival, but the necessary middle where progress is simply placing one stone on the next, regardless of my feelings,
I have loved the beginning of things and abandoned them in the middle, those abandoned middles may be one of the most honest records of who I become when the excitement of starting is disappearing…
I have been in the phase of building that feels nothing like building, moving through something too thick to see through and trusting that in movement it is taking me somewhere,
I have been in the building phase and looked back at exploration with longing, remembering it as limitless and free even I had not yet understood what it was building,
I have been in the building phase, still wanted to return to the beginning, not because it was better but because I had not yet learned how difficult the possibility of the middle is,
Is the feeling that this phase is harder than it should be a sign that something has gone wrong, or simply that I have reached the part that costs more and was always going to,
I have been in the building phase and survived it, arriving at something that could not have existed without the middle I once wanted to escape, only to forget the lessons that I had to learn it all over again for the next one…
I have added to the work when what it needed was removal, adding felt like a contribution, while cutting felt like a loss but the fear of loss kept me piling onto something that needed space to breathe,
I have added and called it devotion, depth, and full attention when the work was quietly asking for the courage to cut what no longer served it,
I have added words, elements, and layers to things that were already complete in their simpler form, making them more impressive while sometimes making them less alive and honest,
What in the work I am making has become so attached to my investment that I can no longer ask whether it serves the core or simply occupies the core space to breathe,
I have added when I should have cut, cutting has always been the harder discipline, yet I have rarely regretted an honest cutting and often regretted an addition made from fear and of letting go…
I have confused abundance with quality, fullness with completion, and better work is with creating things that were technically complete yet somehow missed the essential thing,
I have confused the long version with the serious one and the stripped version with the unfinished one, so thoroughness has prevented me from releasing the true form hidden beneath all the layers I’ve built around it,
I have confused removal with diminishment, holding elements past their usefulness because letting go felt like admitting I was wrong to put them altogether, when perhaps putting them there was how I learned they needed to be,
What would the truest and most alive version of what I am making be, if I removed everything that serves me more than it serves the work and honestly measured what still belongs,
I have confused abundance with quality for long enough that the confusion became a creative habit, I am only now learning that removal is not the opposite of making, but it’s designed in its most essential form…
Watchwords:
The abandoned middles are the most honest record,
Ignorance felt like possibility in the beginning phase,
Added when the work was asking me to cut,
Every addition made from fear of letting something go,
Removal is the final and most essential discipline...
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream: