Never Be Defined by What You Keep

Anything one writes down, or chooses to commit to memory, should be a thing one can explode forth from.

The drying of ink is not information in any utilitarian sense; it is mere anchors for one’s downstream elaboration.

Your mind should be a wellspring of intuition, barely tied to the ink that triggers its expression.

Speak with a kind of fervor that barely respects the precision of your notes and memories. Collect just enough facts to guarantee your wild art folds back onto things undeniable.

Constraints are like freedom to those who use them correctly. They are as true as they are boring; they are to be respected, but they are not the lifeblood of your adventure. Use your volatile words to test them as a child tests the patience of their parents.

The less you hold onto, the more powerful those keepings will be. “Trigger my emotions then be gone.” A bird does not need reminding of how it flies. I move when I move. If my words violated some natural law I would have fallen long ago.

You will discover nothing following the scraps of dried ink collected through history and calling it your knowledge. A realization that touches paper is a remnant of what was felt in the moment.

You must go off. You must leave the mechanism. You must inhabit that which lives nowhere but inside that transient collection of fragments. Here now, gone quickly.

Never be defined by what you keep.