OKAY, BUT WHAT'S NEXT?

Welcome to the Church of Creativity and General Fuckery.

There, it’s started. That’s the hard part, right?

My name is Jordan, but you can call me Reverend Krumbine. Or White Chocolate. Or “Hey, you fucking arrogant asshole!”. Or don’t call me at all — I’d rather a text, and if I’m feeling particularly cranky, a good old-fashioned email. PRO TIP: smoke signals are also good, but only if they come from a nice, robust cigar with a tasty alcoholic beverage on the side.

By way of a thumbnail introduction: I’m a cranky old bastard stuck in a 30-some-year-old’s body. I’m married with four cats and one giant fur ball I affectionately call Fluffy Motherfucker. I like dinosaurs, weird instrumental music from dubstep to Doctor Who, dinosaurs, gadgets, and am painfully passionate about creativity.

Okay, that’s out of the way. What next?

What? Exactly. What.

What’s fucking next.

I had one of those soul-crushing existential self-examinations today (PRO-TIP: get drunk) and realized an on-going pattern-slash-frustration of dumping a creative project as soon as it becomes too complicated or routine.

The soul-crushing part came when I realized that the aforementioned realization was totally wrong.

How fucked up is it when you realize that the truth you just figured out about yourself is a total fucking lie? Hashtag-relatable? Anybody? No?

There this one video project that I always return to over the years called krumbinesBRAIN. It’s a simple concept — through the magic of brilliant script writing and even more brilliant video editing, I argue with myself for a minute (or so) at a time. Earlier this year, I picked the project back up and honed it to a fine point over the course of 10+ episodes.
​

​​And then I stopped.

Sure, there were extenuating circumstances. Houseguests. Schedules. Creative space. Motivation.

But the real problem, as I’m only now appreciating, was that having “perfected” the format (to wit: a tightly-animated intro-and outro featuring a lovingly-hand-illustrated logo) there was no “what’s next” left in the project.

Sure, there’s always new material to write and perform, but that wasn’t enough for me. It’s all just part of the same routine.

I’m having the same problem at my day job at the Orlando Sentinel as a video editor/producer/photographer. I’ve gotten over the learning curve of producing creative on a 9-5 schedule for a corporation, I’ve invented (or perfected) dozens of formats and shows for the paper’s website, and I’ve even abandoned all traditional DSLR cameras just for the challenge of heading out on an assignment with only my iPhone in-hand. And after about two months, even THAT has become routine.

​I’ll humblebrag here and say that part of the problem is that I aim to be the best at what I do. And perfection, while great to strive for, is a boring place to live.

When it comes to creativity, I happen to be very good at what I do. Which is exactly why I need to do something else.
​
Okay. So what’s next?

Well, shit. Fuck if I know. 

I will tell you this: a sure-fire way to stave off the banality of day-in-day-out fuckery is to collaborate and work with people who will challenge and inspire your creative drive.

It’s not impossible to find. But in my experience, it has been rare. If you find it, hang on to it.

Stay creative, my friends. And let me know if you figure out what's next.