Some thoughts on making things exist. The joy and fear of it all. A sequel to this post on Passion and Work and Adulthood.

So I've moved on to the next stage of my Unofficial Residency. I'm back to doing Freelance Work. (Nov-Dec is one of my busiest seasons of the year. Of course I wouldn't miss it.)

Though I only completed like, almost 3/4 of what I set out to do during the first phase of the residency, I'm grateful for whatever progress I am able to make. Afterall, any headway during 2020 is a miracle! Luckily there's a second phase to catch up on things. So fingers crossed I can get some more in.

I will confess that I've always had the desire to be recognised by an Institution: schools, libraries, museums, universities, you know. Buildings. Bodies. I want my books to be analysed and mined formally, to bridge the gap between the public and institutions, to educate, to inspire joy in learning. I love the world. I love the platonic ideal of academia: to chase a subject wholeheartedly, to share and introduce to outsiders the joy and madness and wonder that comes from seeing something unexpected in a different way, to find interdisciplinary solidarity in fellow nerds. Though I've officially left academia to pursue a career that more aligns with my way of storytelling, of learning and teaching, I'm still a scholar at heart. I want to be a part of this network, because it is where I feel most at home in.

And yet recently I was reminded of the Reason why I left academia, and it's forced me to reconsider my desire to be Institutionally Recognised, if it's even worth it.

Double feature