The sea was amazing today.

Successful is a funny term. I managed to get my life drawing classes really going strong, the Jen Dixon Arts website is looking good, and my art itself has jumped to the best level I’ve ever known, but that’s all getting air and time squeezed out of it by the pressures of social media*, and keeping up with it all.

When I really weigh things up, I can’t help but to feel the pro and con columns are uneven. Grossly so. Years ago I was cool as a cucumber with a blog and email. My family and friends** dipped in when it suited them; they emailed when they had something to say. Flickr has been a really useful tool*** for easy access to my day-to-day photos and I’ve kept up visually with the lives of others I care about. Then came Twitter…

I’m an old Twitter user by most standards. April of 2007, I think, though I could look it up to be sure. But you know what? It doesn’t matter when I joined it. Tweeting became a huge part of my life. My blog suffered. My once strong command of writing suffered through lack of use (however my ability to be concise has really skyrocketed). The main online arteries to my life started to back up with distracting sludge, 140 characters at a time.

Now don’t get me wrong. I ENJOY THE HELL OUTTA TWITTER. But therein lies the problem. I’d rather tweet than write, I’d rather tweet than sleep, I’d rather tweet than work… That sounds extreme, and no, I’m not addicted, but Twitter is fun, social, I keep up with loads of people and… and…

And I’m not quitting it, but I am not going to be a slave to it anymore. It takes up too much time and too much of my reality. I’m taking some of me back.

And speaking of taking up too much time… Oh, Facebook- you cunting conduit to the procrastination underworld, you. Facebook was something I joined reluctantly † and I can only just about forgive myself for doing it. I do tell myself it’s to keep up with people in far-flung places, family I have left, and a handful of friends, but you know what? Facebook is for lazy people. We horde friends and get nosey about former lovers and classmates and Like, Poke, and Share instead of writing a fucking email. Facebook has become our private detective, and our biggest waste of time when we should pick up the phone or put a pen to paper. I have no love for Facebook. You may have noticed.

I’m through lying to myself about the social media succubus that pretends to be useful for my career, networking, or site traffic. The site traffic I get from Twitter to my art site DO NOT BUY. They don’t even email for more info. Facebook traffic? SAME THING. My efforts there are essentially useless and detrimental to my production. Why would I want that?

I’m at a point in my life where two things are happening: I’m focusing on what is real and what matters and I’m being true to myself (more). If it distracts me from becoming a better, more productive me? It’s getting cut or cut way back. If it keeps me from using my sparking brains on more than 140 characters of real writing? It’s getting cut or cut way back. Does it hinder or further me and what I want out of this pitifully short existence? That’s the new unit of measurement.

I want to paint more, draw more, sell more art, make more art. I want to feel the closeness of a circle of friends that want to write and receive emails and {gasp} real letters. Let’s make a phone date or a video chat date. I want to know you and I want you to know me, not just to share a photo of a kitten in a cantaloupe hat or forward third-rate meme poetry (in a bad font) about what a special person/thing/feeling/beer means to the world. I want to walk more, read more books, make things happen.

I want more.

You should too.

This ain’t over.

* Let’s put a truer name on it: distractions
** Real friends, not the faces gathered like trading cards on Facebook
*** an item or service that makes my life easier in some way
† kicking and screaming

I’ve spent most of the weekend away from the normal social web and focussed on our ‘in person’ friendship. Neil worked part of the weekend, so the friend and I hung out a lot together. We broke through something in these last few days, something that I experience with very few people (I can name you all on one hand, and probably still not use all my fingers) and that is the complete comfort of quiet, zero demands, total trust and openness. A rare and treasured thing.

We’d always been very open and honest online, but sometimes I would feel awkward in person as proximity took away safety net of distance and replaced it with a face to look into. I am a very open person, (it’s almost a defence mechanism, my openness), but I can be awkward with people I care about when I don’t have the padding of the internet between us. It’s like being suddenly naked and the internet was a protective layer of clothing. Getting to know someone is easy – knowing someone deeply is hard and makes me feel vulnerable.

Well, this weekend did us both good, my friend and me. I even took him to my therapy session this morning. I’ve never intentionally held secrets from this person, (we can truly talk about anything), so I was happy with whatever came out in the appointment. It felt good. I don’t feel vulnerable.

He’s left to go back to his home hours away. I think we’re already both looking forward to his next visit. Back to the internet until then…

“How the, what the?” I hear you ask… Well, I’ve got a friend who has a daughter who knows an American guy who just bought a property a little north of us. Turns out the estate he’s renovating has a small, mature vineyard on the premises, but he has no interest in being the winemaker. My friend comes barrelling into our driveway one lunchtime, leaps from his car and brings in a bottle of wine to accompany his proposition. How would you like to make some wine, Jen.
Oh, no. I’ve no time for it. Things are going well for me, but I’ll go have a look with you, I say. We hit the road and meet the owner, march through some mud, and scope out the facilities.

Needless to say, my mind was changed. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, really. I’ll make time. I’ll make wine.

We’ve just had the vineyard work assessment/plan/schedule thing done and there is much to do, but we’ve got a professional to guide us and work with us.

You just never know what’s going to happen in North Cornwall. You could wake up one day a winemaker.