8 Clicks from Nowhere Productions

Category: Artsy April

Chapter List

  • Digital Analog

    Flip-flopping between digital art and physical media—and often the fuzzy spots in between—is a dichotomy of form that is something quite unique to the modern world. 

    As the fidelity of our digital tools improve many (if not most) art forms have found analogs in the digital realm: words, photography, design, sound, and sculpture to name but a few. 

    I consider myself an artist, and one who has (more recently as my access to powerful computer tech has increased) often started in the digital realm before investing in the physical tools to try my hand at the so-called real version of it.

    Why buy expensive paints when I have an app on the device I already own?

    Why purchase a space-consuming musical instrument when I can noddle on my laptop with some free software?

    But I also wonder: how has being a digital-first artist affected me? What is the effect on my approach because I have not needed to overcome that initial struggle incurred by the costs and barriers of physical media? Does the creative approach from using technology suffer because the media is more forgiving, erasable, redo-able? Is the technology a crutch or a learning tool?

    I can’t redo my approach, and honestly there are forms I would never have tried without first attempting with the safety net provided by digital modes. But what was the effect of that on my skill and my mind?

  • Great Wall

    I am just as tempted as anyone to aim for greatness when I try to create anything. 

    So often, I will throw everything against the metaphorical wall and assume that something should stick. It is a slick wall, though. Sticking anything is tough enough, but sticking everything is nigh impossible. 

    Greatness, in my opinion is not something that comes from the instant success of anything. It does not emerge whole cloth from the engine. It does not top the bestseller list on a first draft. It does not rocket up the charts as if gravity has no bearing on it. It does not immediately stick to the wall fully formed.

    Greatness is earned.

    Greatness is the work of countless attempts, even though most of those attempts will only be witnessed by you and often worse-than-ignored by others; scorned or mocked, or rejected with passionless impunity.  

    Greatness is beset by setbacks and slippery walls.

    I always aim for that great wall. 

    And yet I have learned that it is out there, probably lurking in a shadow, avoiding being found. Avoiding the light. Avoiding the ease by which we assume it has been discovered and stuck. Slippery.

    We see success all the time. We see it in other people having achieved it through their own efforts and so we likely assume they took their shot and caught it with only a trivial bit of work—and almost certainly we are wrong. We didn’t see the shards of countless failed attempts heaped on the floor below. We never do.

  • No Dice

    Among the first question I assume you have asked (or wanted to ask) of anyone attempting to write a daily blog (like this) is where do all the ideas come from?

    It’s no easy thing to think of something reasonably new and at least a little interesting to write about every day.  I will admit that, sure, I only post five days a week, Monday to Friday, but still: that is about twenty posts per month, and at least four thousand words spread across around five entries uploaded like clockwork each weekday.

    Brainstorming is key.

    I have written in the past about going for walks with a notepad, or sitting at the window in the cafe pondering the world while I wait for the sparks of imagination to ignite.  This month I tried something new: story dice[1].

    If you are a creative writer no doubt you’ve seen these, maybe even own these. Dice with pictograms on the side that are meant to help authors come up with fictional story plots.  But here’s the thing: I have found, strangely enough, that the little icons on each face of each die is abstract enough that rolling three or four fresh cubes gives just the right boost to my imagination, primed by the topics of this blog, to spark a few solid ‘X meets Y in the context of Z’ points into my digital brainstorming notebook.

    In fact, at least a dozen of the posts you’ll likely read in April spawned out of this random rolling of inspirational fate. So I suppose then that ideas, with the right tool and mindset, can come from pretty much anywhere.

  • Sacred Flame

    People have often asked me what keeps me motivated to create?

    It never occurred to me until much later in my life that not everyone is driven by this insatiable curiosity to try to make stuff. I long took it for granted that the majority of the world just simply woke up each morning and considered their options to participate. That they looked at the myriad of activities that humanity has invented and honed over the millennia and thought what can I do with that…

    Really. 

    So, it was a bit of an existential shock to me, years ago now, to realize that some people—maybe even most people—are indifferent to such curiosity and likely could not care less if they were left alone and asked to go no further than enjoy the creative outputs of others.

    To that end I sometimes feel as if I have something of a token of humanity which I need to look after. Being one of those who not only can muster the energy and occasional skill to make interesting things, but being among the few who feel the urge to do so—well, that’s not a common thing, apparently.  There are millions of us, sure, but proportionally—it seems more rare than anyone wants to admit. 

    Maybe we can think of it as a kind of sacred flame. And if nothing else motivates me when I wake up in the morning, thinking that creating interesting things might just be my small but important role to play in the grand scheme of the universe is simultaneously a humbling and terrifying notion that brings me right back to my keyboard.

  • Ever Greened

    April 2026, this month, marks the twenty-fifth year of my blogging adventures.

    A quarter of a century has been spent by me posting whimsical insights and routine thoughts into the internet for strangers—perhaps just like you—to read and ponder.

    To be fair, I’ve long since archived most of the things I wrote over the years. Much of it was neither evergreen nor the quality of stuff that really needed to be kept public. I have copies of virtually all of it, of course, but much of it is barely the equivalent of reading through back issues of the local newspaper from decades past. Interesting, maybe, but hardly worth the effort of keeping on the shelves.

    It’s still early days here, but I have modelled this particular take at blogging with a little more intentionality towards building a collection of posts that will stand the test of time. 

    What does it look like to write posts that are interesting right now, but might also be interesting in five or ten years?  If somehow I was able to keep this effort up for the next decade or two, would I still go back to the early posts and read through with interest… or with a cringe?