aftermath

we dream, we create, we change, we love

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Glance at a Life

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“You still use a planner?” is a question I am often asked with out-and-out disbelief.
 

Paper Planners in the Digital Age:
Why We’re Still Addicted

— Lane Florsheim

Don’t expect me to be one to ask.

Written by macheide

28 December 2017 at 12:25 pm

Posted in aftermath

Tagged with ,

Decluttering aftermath

with one comment

Like mold and grime left too long in our gutters, every now and then aftermath needs a thorough pressure washing. Yet like how some are always quick to criticize anything that isn’t perfect in their opinion, I’m sure to deserve some new insult over still caring about aftermath as much as I do. But as for me, like when I go about washing up around our Carriage House or the Lake View Lodge, I don’t brush up aftermath for applause or recognition; I do it for me, because it’s my home and I prefer it be clean.

So yet again, I have much to clean up around here. And like with it is keeping my nightstand free of unnecessary clutter, I probably should make blog tidying pretty much a continuous activity, since I do seriously want to have this journal work well for me.

bumper sticker [www.internetbumperstickers.com] - aftermath

Written by macheide

20 November 2017 at 4:17 pm

Posted in aftermath

Tagged with ,

Precious Waste

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“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”
“It is the time I have wasted for my rose—” said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

The Little Prince,
brought to my home library by a book angel

Waste. I’ve been called that. Not worth the time. Not good enough to keep. Not even worth the flush it takes to be rid of me. Eh, I’ve been lied about before, and that won’t ever cease. I for my part accept it all as precious. The only waste that becomes its lie is the one that quits its love. “It is the time I have wasted…” I remind myself, so I will be sure to remember.

Which brings me to today’s task in my project aimed at cleaning up the mold and rust and dust from aftermath: my waste bin. Represented by the bumper sticker placed on the fixed post that provides aftermath‘s header – “The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time” – which is of course what makes it worth the wasting. In the former life of aftermath, I had that waste bin linking through to a OneNote notebook, Waste. Which, like so much else that has floated off into entropy the past few year, was barely the ghost of what had been intended, and even that creaking with age.

When I first encountered OneNote some seven years ago, I was very impressed, expecting it to eventually stand shoulder to shoulder with weblogs for delivery of content on the Internet and via apps. Alas, Microsoft has failed to take advantage of a huge vacuum that exists to this day, untouched by Google and Apple and every other cross-device content provider. So in the same spirit displayed in my notes about my Underground Systems, I could easily ditch OneNote in favor of taking aftermath‘s waste bin to an Excel-Word recycling center.

But, “it is the time I have wasted…” I repeat out loud, so I will be sure to remember. And what better way to waste time on wasting time than to persist in using OneNote. So rather than junk it as is done with the likes of waste such as I, we’ll give it a permanent lease and make it important for its waste.

In this instance, representing my personal vow that no moment of mine will ever be waste. Every single moment will reach out to touch someone in some way that recognizes and accepts them as important. Precious.

bumper sticker [www.internetbumperstickers.com] - aftermath

Written by macheide

28 September 2014 at 12:44 pm

Posted in aftermath

Tagged with , , ,

Pressured, Virtually

with 5 comments

The entirety of all that I write, all that I sketch or paint or shape, all that I record, all that I diagram or plan or calculate, all that I even wish I could dream I could think I could imagine, all that I create and all that I so endlessly modify, even all that I discard or forget, et cetera — think of all of that as if it were the community in which I live: myself and my family and my friends and my neighbors and others including visitors and intruders, the streets and the yards and the lakes and the countryside, the signs and the wildlife and the nearby airport’s approach path, the bridges and the parking lots and all the buildings and everything else. And in that virtual community of my writings and all, this weblog – aftermath – would be the main building, with its excutive offices and business center, with its activity rooms and lounges and exercise rooms and library, with its meeting hall and its stage and its kitchen and its restrooms, even with its storage places and equipment rooms and closets and hallways.

And that main building called aftermath is caked solid top-to-bottom inside and out with mold.

Mold. Dirt. Rust and waste and dust and muck.

So like I have done this week helping other community volunteers to rid some of our curbs and streets of a decade or more of black mold, I need as badly to pressure-wash aftermath.

The goals for this virtual version might seem at first glance to be sharply divergent. For the real community, our primary goal had to do with appearances. My #1 goal fighting mold that intrudes into my own house would be personal health, with a close second being the physical integrity of the building itself, with cosmetics following closely behind yet still no better than third. But for the curbs and streets and sidewalks of our community, our concern is almost exclusively in how we look to ourselves and to guests (and eventually to future purchasers).

In contrast, for aftermath I care nothing about how all this looks to anyone else at all. Even to the limited extent I open some of it up to public access, that doesn’t mean I am performing or presenting nor even that I mean any of this to communicate to anyone other than myself. The problem with the mold here is not in terms of the impressions it might make on anyone else, but rather on how the rust has rendered it of less use to me for what I had been using it for and continue to use it for.

But all in all, those two different goals are more similar than they are different, in that they both relate to quality of life. Accept the curb mold the way this community has for the past decade, and we accept a lower standard of living than we could rather easily take responsibility for making for ourselves. Ditto, if I continue to accept the weblog mold that aftermath has accumulated, then I accept a lower quality for my virtual life, on which I depend so heavily to conduct so much else of my real life.

So, haul out my cyber pressure washer and off I go down aftermath‘s creaky sidebar and down through its clanky categories and off through its pages and tags and settings, through all its content, then off through all its tunnels to the broad virtual home I have made for myself here. It’s a never-ending chore, yes, but one I can’t let go as long as our community ignored its curbs.

bumper sticker [www.internetbumperstickers.com] - aftermath

Written by macheide

18 July 2014 at 1:25 pm