When Does Subtraction Add?
Or, how it feels to read fewer books.
Within the past few months, the rate at which I consume books has slowed. Why? I thought that I saw my architecture crumble, indicating that the foundation upon which my voracity extended was never properly solidified. My antlers grew into my skull.
Then, I stopped catastrophizing and thought about what this really meant. Firstly, I tend to conclude that one ought keep their fixed identity to a minimum. The false identities and lame communities of diet, music taste, or brand offer me little warmth against the generational hurricane of lost values. I am not comfortable finding refuge in false shelter. In anticipation that my external environment would change (with a new job, new city, and new home), I consciously made the decision to lessen my reading habits, to be less of a “READER” and use the newly freed time to produce art and to enjoy the fact that I was living in a place where I was among friends and was fluent in the language. My mental model was that I was exiting an “information collection and processing” stage, and entering a “information production and sharing” stage.
Looking back, I mostly failed. I continued to read, albeit at a slightly slower rate than previously. I could no longer sit still for 6 hours. The supposed “trade-off” never occurred; I seemed only to gain. Professionally, I worked more hours and made more money than I had in the previous 6 months, continued on my rate of book consumption, was able to travel to two major U.S. cities, successfully produced the visuals I wanted, created the website I wanted, enjoyed a new lifestyle, and produced my friend’s album. Yet I was still unhappy and dissatisfied. When you embark on expeditions with blurry maps, you may choose when to stop, but you may never feel as though you’ve traveled far enough.
This is usually manifested in some anxiety in publishing my own work. Remembering the imminence of death usually alleviates this. In the moment I’ve often felt both a simultaneous sorrow for the lack of record of the past and disdain for my cowardice in not recording, and a present insecurity for describing the present. Both a freedom in criticizing my past without the wisdom to apply it contemporarily. Yet, I’ve never regretted any documentation. I loved it all, every photo, piece of music, or poem.
Today, I am cautious to assume that 1) this mental model is beneficial, and 2) the certainty that these categories are distinct. - this is the real topic of this essay.
This has idea has been somewhat alleviated since returning to teaching - being in a position of authority regarding your knowledge and being forced to share it and generate new ideas on a consistent basis is the best way I’ve found to refine and expose what you really do and don’t know.
I previously wrote a bit about the inherent limitations of language (but never quite made my point!). The second lens through which I’ve processed this change in experience is related to my larger, more over-arching life quest in pursuit of greater communication. In months or moments when I am especially literate, my inner-visions are both expressed and shaped through words, especially the English language.
One way to know if you’ve successfully re-focused yourself is to look at your dream content. This refocus on the visual arts and on audio was a new mental state to occupy and to see if certain inexpressible features of existence had any leverage in a medium away from language. The answer was yes. Some of the responses to the album I produced were “Very Thug Music” and “Fire”, and apparently some of the Taiwanese people that heard it liked it, even though I don’t think they understood the English completely. Someone listened to it and told me it sounds like Kanye. Hmm…
As evidenced by the fact that you’re reading this, a return to my former life signifies a more literary, solitary mind. I am still working on art and overcoming some unnecessary anxiety regarding expression, while simultaneously attempting to hold myself to a rigorous standard of production. I am beginning to dissolve the harsh lines I’ve drawn regarding information output / input. I already intellectually concluded this in my article “Black Box Theory”, where I wrote how open-sourced software is always superior on a long enough timeline. In that same article, I wrote how you should not automatize humans.
In fact, that’s the meaning of the word “Machinepack”, it means the dissolution of machinery and automatization in our daily lives. Yes, I conclude that it’s better to educate and be educated rather than isolation myself, but I am simultaneously empathetic to the inherent difficulty in the realization of this conclusion. There is no contradiction in both recognizing your present self-importance and simultaneously forging a stronger, wiser self.
I hope if you can recognize some aspect of yourself in this writing - whether you face imposter syndrome or perpetual preparation - you can find your own way of dissolving the dichotomy between Doing and Preparing. They can will live together.