The creative cost of always being online
I almost didn't write this down because it felt too obvious. That is usually the sign, so here it is.
Attention becomes fragmented into smaller and smaller pieces, until the work that requires a long, uninterrupted stare starts to feel almost impossible. Recovering the ability to focus for an hour is, increasingly, the whole creative battle. The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming.
The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming. Attention becomes fragmented into smaller and smaller pieces, until the work that requires a long, uninterrupted stare starts to feel almost impossible. Recovering the ability to focus for an hour is, increasingly, the whole creative battle.
The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming. The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming.
Attention becomes fragmented into smaller and smaller pieces, until the work that requires a long, uninterrupted stare starts to feel almost impossible. Recovering the ability to focus for an hour is, increasingly, the whole creative battle. Attention becomes fragmented into smaller and smaller pieces, until the work that requires a long, uninterrupted stare starts to feel almost impossible. Recovering the ability to focus for an hour is, increasingly, the whole creative battle.
I will probably change my mind about some of this next year. That is the point of writing it down — so I can see where I was honest and where I was just repeating something I heard. Attention becomes fragmented into smaller and smaller pieces, until the work that requires a long, uninterrupted stare starts to feel almost impossible. Recovering the ability to focus for an hour is, increasingly, the whole creative battle. The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming. The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming. Attention becomes fragmented into smaller and smaller pieces, until the work that requires a long, uninterrupted stare starts to feel almost impossible. Recovering the ability to focus for an hour is, increasingly, the whole creative battle. The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming. The creative cost of being online all the time is not the time, exactly. It is the way it trains you to want a response before the thought has even finished forming.