The first real creative outlet I ever had was the video production work I did in high school. I loved it. I had a good group for it, but we all split off to different universities and never really picked up where we left off.
In my first two years of college, I nearly added film as a double major with my physics program as a way to keep doing that. It seemed like too much work to juggle both of those programs, so I had to drop one of them. The pressures of a STEM-worshipping education system led me to stick with the physics degree, leaving the more enjoyable creative work idle by the wayside.
My desire to express myself through video never really went away, though. Every couple of months I get motivated for a few days to make a video of some sort. I’ll start filming, often with the aid of my partner, and sit down to start editing. Then I find a bunch of things I don’t like about what I’m putting together. I note down how I’ll reshoot it to better suit what I want, and then I never actually return to it.
I’ve started videos about board games, video games, and cooking; in 2018 I started taking a few seconds a day to cut together at the end as a way to look back on what the year was like. I lasted until about March until I stopped filming.
The most recurring video that I try to make is a series about why people should play board games. The series will have quite a few entries if it ever gets finished. The first video is just an overview of modern board games, and how they break expectations people might have. Other entries in the series include an essay about why people need to play in general and how board games can help with that, why video games are better than board games, why board games are better than video games, why I personally got into board games, and more.
Maybe one day I’ll get around to making and publishing a video.
I won’t go into how many unfinished game designs I have, or how many unedited photos sit on my computer, the stack of books and video games I’ve started that tower above me, or the half-finished koji fermentation chamber in my closet. That sounds boring to read and mostly self-defeating.
I’ve come to accept that this is just the way my brain works, especially within the framework of capitalism that grips the world. It’s hard to chase creative pursuits, keep a clean house, relax, get enough sleep, socialize, feed yourself, and take care of the people around you when you have to spend so much of your waking hours justifying your existence in the world through your labor.
I don’t think I’m expressing my thoughts on this very well, but I don’t want to put it on the pile of unfinished work. I’d love to improve as a writer, but that doesn’t happen if I never finish a piece of writing, does it?