A Small but Meaningful Waste of Time.

    I hope that I am not wasting my time.

    I spent a long time debating whether or not I wanted to start a small business writing and publishing books. I was often paralyzed by the thought that I would put my voice out there and only silence would echo back. It is a beautiful and humbling thing to know that your voice is as small as a droplet of water amid the torrent of a typhoon. I told myself that even if no one would listen, and my work is never read, at least I could file off my expenses on my taxes. I would not stoop so low as to comfort myself by saying "at least I tried". I don't want to just try. I want to succeed. I want my effort to mean something to someone other than to me. But.... if all this is for naught, my consolation will be that I can file it away on a 1040.

    Have you ever listened to a song that was so personal that it felt like the artist sung it just for you?

    I would like someone to feel that way about my work. I am no great artist. I do not have a team to brainstorm, execute, direct and publish my work.... It's just me. From the inception of a single line of work, to the publishing of full books and the subsequent forms filled for the sake of my business. It all rests on my shoulders. That is a lot of weight to bear. Every mark, every line, every flaw, is a reflection of me.

    I hope though I am flawed, and my work is far from perfect, it could still mean something and point to a truth far greater than I.