All distractions deviate from the path. All lead astray. Sure, a Kurosawa film stimulates differently from a Marvel film; abstract Jazz differently from Funk. A raw grapefruit pleases differently from ice cream. To browse French Symbolist art is not to browse semi-random forums. To read demanding forms of literature differs from the reading of a comic. To fill the idleness with silent evanescence is not to tap the smartphone. To hold inner conversations is not to mingle on the messenger.
Some indulge in any entertainment within reach. Some choose their distractions more strategically. I indulge in the endless revision of automation mechanisms and clever Linux configurations. I enjoy to discover new forms of what one might term digital minimalism. I’ll read and read and reread. I’ll sometimes browse peculiar artists and movements in Wikiart; sometimes for upwards of two hours. And not without a sense of guilt will I entertain an unseen Kurosawa picture, keen to enlighten my film appreciation in supposedly profound ways. I’ll think and rethink until mental fatigue. So many intriguing micro projects present themselves. So many roads to deviate from the path.
And all lead to oblivion. All detract. All distract, whatever the degree of mindfulness or mindlessness; erudition or sublimation; however sweet or sour. I convey this as much to myself as anyone.
Questions, comments? Connect.