Rasmus Rasmussen dot com

I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Seattle, watching the rain fall heavily outside. I’m waiting for something, but it’s not inspiration. That’s already there. It’s focus, I seek. The ability to hone in on that one important thing and go for it, grinding away until it’s done. Until I have a product of some kind. Any kind, really.

But all the projects I am working on are big, taking weeks or months to complete. And there are too many of them, too. I can never say no to myself, so whenever I get an idea, I either start working on it right away or jot down a few notes and start whenever I get a free moment. Right now, I am working on what is becoming a very large expansion of my microstock guide, a retrospective photo book about settling in Seattle, and then there is the 12 Seattleites project, where I am documenting the lives of a dozen fellow Seattleites. So, that’s three books. Add to that a few novels, I am trying to structure.

Then there’s the actual photographic work. I’ve been trying to book photo sessions lately, only to have models flake out on me or the weather deciding to ruin things at the last minute. Either of those is time wasted on my part and an effective recipe for frustration. I’ve been processing pictures from my archives to get by, but finding that it feels more and more like standing still, when I should be moving forward. At the moment, I’m not happy with my photographic production. It’s in need of some action, with a side of nice weather.

It would be easy to blame the forces of the universe for conspiring against me, but this is not the universe’s fault (or problem). This is a recurring theme in my life: Wanting to do too many things all at once, and ending up doing bits and pieces in a very unstructured and unproductive way. Combined with the general time of year and a stint of good old bad luck.

At this point, as I sit here pondering things, drifting into a state of daydreaming inevitably happens. If only I had more time. If only I had an assistant. If only I were travelling somewhere exciting. If only I had more money, so I could do all those things. It always ends up on the money, which is grounding and brings me back to reality: Not producing any finished work generates the same kind of income. And that, in turn, forces me pick between working on here-and-now things, that may not be very interesting or fulfilling on a personal level, but pays the rent. Or continue to plug away on my time-consuming personal projects, which (best case) might turn into long-term career investments or (worst case) simply learning experiences.

I’m pitting goals and wants versus needs and actual possibilites. I really want to take some pictures, but I’m tired of the same old routine. I want to do more documentary style stuff. I want to write more (I have more book ideas than I can count). But so far, on this rainy afternoon at the coffee shop, writing this is my greatest accomplishment of the day. And as I return to my various bits and pieces, I do so with a feeling of having at least put something out there. Which in its own backwards way is both satisfying and motivating.

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