This whole year academically speaking, has just been a wasteland. It sucks that a few hundred thousand people have to bare the brunt of the government's transgressions. My understanding is that a CBA lasts four years, how long does it take to be implemented? That's a mystery to me given all the industrial action we've seen this year alone, need I remind you, doctors, nurses, lecturers, tea farmers. Regardless, within those four years negotiations and implementations only happen in the last year of the existent CBA. Of course, only after a jibe is thrown towards the government, the jibe being full on strikes, complete with a three week notice.
Answer me this, there is 60 billion readily available for free secondary education but not 5 billion for striking lecturers?
But that's an aside. On to today's piece.
Yesterday, I came home from work and began my usual night routine. I changed from my 'work clothes' it's really just jeans and a tee and into my PJs, there's no better feeling like it. For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have my laptop on. You guys already know my poison, Youtube. I watched a bunch of suggested videos and then of course shifted base to the big dawg himself, Casey Neistat. Yup, I may have graduated from just having a slight obsession for Casey's content to whatever is above a slight obsession.
The click bait is what got me. I honestly thought that him and Candice were getting a divorce. Turns out, spoiler alert, they were on their way to therapy, couples' therapy and were thinking about starting a podcast where they would talk about their marriage and call it, 'Therapy'. If you ask me, which by the way, he did source for feedback, I really wouldn't care for it. If I so happen to be bored out of my mind or I am looking to pass the time or on an expedition for white noise while doing a major school assignment then maybe I'll give it a listen. But, being a religious listener and tuning in once every week, I hate to be the wet blanket but no, not my cuppa.
Once I got past the click bait there was a video within the video. A collaboration with one of his friends, Shantell Martin and Samsung. Casey, Casey, Casey racking up dream sponsorships left, right and centre. Shantell of course is no rookie to master collaborations having done one with the G.O.A.T himself, King Kunta, K-dot, Kendrick Lamar. Is there even the slightest possibility of topping that?
Shantell is an artiste. Her instrument a pen. What she creates isn't your usual, it's more contemporary,modern, urban. The type that some may have to squint and tilt their head to the left to make sense of it. On first impression, it looks like large scale impressionable doodles. Her work is on murals, shutter doors so long as it's a white background she can make it work. It's the type of thing, because of its simplicity makes it stand out especially in a world of color.
So anyway, in the said video she asks, what's the point of making art? The point is to make, share, make, share, make, share, make, share. She moves to New York after finding her groove in Japan, which was her runaway destination after being told not to apply to art school because she probably wouldn't get in.
She knows she's an artist. She has successfully curved a distinct niche for herself, so successful is her artwork it's easily identifiable to be hers. This, was a process and with all processes come time, over time she's built her art, her name and all through the simple process of make, share, make, share, make, share, make, share.
Then there's me. I make, make, make and make. You notice the difference?
I have never wanted to label myself as a writer. The title is pretty heavy, reserved for heavy weights like published authors, Jackson Biko, Magunga Williams, Sharon Mundia, Caroline Njung'e people who make and ultimately, share.
Back story to how this blogging thing came about. I had just finished my Diploma circa, two years after high school. I spent countless hours on Biko's blog, was it High School? He referred to us, his readers, as Gang. Not so long after, came the rise and rise of ThisisEss, she stood out for a couple of reasons, her looks (might as well have that one be the first one out of the gate), quality pictures, she went all out and hired a small time photographer at least back then he was, Victor Peace and her way with words. Come at me all you want, so yeah her style was good and Victor was a big help as well, but come on, the story behind the outfits and even none fashion posts still had us hanging on to her every word.
I figured if they can do it then I sure as heck can, yup, so did everybody. In that period alone I can bet nearly everybody with an internet connection had gone on a rampage living links to their websites and blogs anywhere and everywhere you can think off. The sharing line was far from blurred, it was full on crossed, a good majority of folks were just leeching over other people's success and that was the last way I wanted to come off. Instead I made, made, made, made and occasionally shared.
The most I shared was on Google Plus which is barely sharing considering, who even uses Google Plus. At some point I spread my wings on to Pinterest which was an unsuspectingly bringing in a healthy number of readers.That, was the epitome of my make and share process, no more, no less.
I would like to say I have upped my game since then, but I have done just the opposite. I am not sharing on Google Plus, Pinterest, nada. In the past, when I would do my version of self-promo, my friends would actually follow the link to this blog and read an article or more, I guess because I am on a lot of their mailing lists so Google is just out here touting my business. I say that with shock yet what did I expect them to do, eat the link, smell it?
Today, I took yet another dive into the deep end. The post that went up yesterday, I put it up on my Instastory for all and sundry to have a read. As dull as the story was, I didn't even sneak in that the link was in my bio, it was a baby step. Am I proud of it? Not really but I made and I shared.
As I write this article I have since come to the conclusion that I have or had a flawed perception of sharing. Blatantly put, if you weren't a whose who in my books then it was just you looking for some self gratification. Now sharing emotes all sorts of reactions it can be inspiration, entertainment, new discoveries sometimes irritation Njoki Chege for a while took the cup at the latter. Sharing can gas you up and take your creation to a whole other level. Imagine if Kendrick just kept his bars to himself in some room up in Compton, we wouldn't have T.P.A.B not even Damn, that's a parallel universe right there
I guess I'll take a shot at this, I already have the first half down, sharing is just a matter of pressing a few buttons and bada bing bada boom we are in business.
Have a good one!
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