Michael Wolgemut and Workshop
published by Anton Koberger:
The Virtues of Christ and the Wickedness of His Enemies
Symbolized by Diverse Birds and Beasts (verso);
The Last Supper (recto),
pages 66 and 65 from the Treasury (Schatzbehalter) (1491)

"… another good or great intention …"

Nexts tailgate my Publishing efforts as I move ever closer to concluding them, or I would be moving ever closer to finishing them were it not for the nexts crowding ever more closely and diverting my attention. I'm painting the back deck, by which I mean that I'm painting everything associated with the back deck except the deck surface, which was fabricated out of melted milk jugs and doesn't need painting. The railings and pergola-like superstructure above need repainting, so I set about to sand, wash, and sweep before settling into painting, a three-coat diversion that might take me a week to complete, what with the other diversions swarming my space. I started arranging to buy some tee shirts yesterday in lieu of painting and also instead of Publishing because The Muse is running for public office, Port Commissioner and I'm her campaign manager. Buying tee shirts pretty much marks the official start of her run. I'd been feeling delinquent because of all the Diversions lately tailgating my every movement.

I'll make no excuses or no concerted ones. I acknowledge that I'm easily distracted and perhaps even more easily diverted. I despise obligations and routines, so I'm prone to upsetting my expectations, especially those others place upon me. I fancy myself my own person, holding higher priorities than all my formal ones, but I know I'm just easily distracted. I found an ant lion trap out by the garbage cans this morning, and I might just as well have still been seven years old for all the attention I lavished on it. Ant lions might be the cleverest insect. They're in the diversion business. When an ant falls into its conical trap, the harder they struggle to escape, the more they seal their fate. I thought the ant lion's nest must have been an allegory placed before me to make a point, or it might have just been another among a flurry of current diversions. It could be both.

The fact that I write four books each year might lead some innocents to believe I maintain an unusual amount of discipline and focus. I'll admit to possessing situational discipline and focus. Were it not for my early morning writing time, religiously observed, I am sure that Diversions would successfully prevent me from making any progress. What else could I be up to at three in the morning that wouldn't keep The Muse awake during her all-important beauty sleep time? My keyboard's quiet tap tap proves little distraction, much less than my two o'clock alarm. I must be a difficult husband since I don't keep regular hours, but then I only cause a few Diversions if I maintain an orthogonal schedule. Meeting my usual bedtime becomes a challenge with the sun still shining so late into the evening, just another of the many Diversions turning my head.

I almost always feel behind. I might have allowed enough time to accomplish whatever I intended, but some Diversion usually intrudes. I can feel the sand in my hourglass sifting downward, and a sense of panic settles in over the proceedings. I can take myself way too seriously, especially when quietly panicking over nothing except my sense of losing something to Diversions. I feel haunted by them, pulled away from my primary mission, and sure to disappoint myself again. When will I actually be Publishing? Impossible to say. I can see little possibility of respite between now and my planned completion date, so the when might prove to be another infinite, another good or great intention victim to Diversions.

©2023 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Publishing, #PureSchmaltz