Come down this rabbit hole with me: You're into a half hour of scrolling through rows and rows of YouTube recommendations when the algorithm flashes something familiar that catches your eye:
You certainly know the title of the video and the song by The Internet, no surprises there. You follow along the vibrant yet grainy scenes, the melodic pacing of the music fits perfectly with what you’re seeing. You’re mesmerized. Hold On… hold on. Was this the original music video? You don’t remember ever seeing it before.
Hm, it’s not from the main account. But it fits so perfectly? Who made this? The top pinned comment reads: “Footage taken from Losing Ground (1982) written and directed by Kathleen Collins.”
It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon and you immediately search for ways to watch the film and purchase it on YouTube for $12. Twelve dollars to be transported to a different world? Not a bad deal.
Less building castles
There’s a dozen things I could say and share about Losing Ground. But I’m not writing this post necessarily to review this beautiful independent film. Rather, I want to surface one scene and line in particular:


Without giving the plot away, the main protagonist is a professor named Sara. Sara is sitting at the dinner table with her mother and husband who are both “serious” artists. Sara laments to her mother how busy she is these days and that she has two research papers to finish to which her mother leans in close and says:
In the context of the film’s storyline, the question stings as it’s not from the voice of a loving parent, but a purist artist judging “made up” busyness. Sara is painted by these two people in her life as overly analytical, logical, and pre-occupied with traditional success. (Of course, the underlying subtext and irony is that Sara’s financial stability is what likely keeps both of these individuals afloat.) Throughout the movie, Sara judges them back for “chasing ecstasy in the name of art” and hiding behind it to excuse bad behavior. You’ll have to watch the film to know how this all plays out for Sara.
Going back to the dinner scene, the question on castles stuck with me. I replayed it as I sat with the implied message: Building castles? Still keeping busy and prioritizing other supposed urgencies instead of doing what you love? I felt called out. It made me think about how much I’ve really been prioritizing my time to do what I truly care and not just getting swept up in daily busyness.

I could fertilize my family’s backyard with all the decayed ideas that never saw the light of day or made it to the next stage. I’m guilty of spending too much time picturing a project’s future instead of just starting and with iterating as I go.
It's been six months since I moved to Washington D.C. All my moves in recent years – NYC, Texas, California – have been life swirls that have made it hard to sit down and make progress on personal projects. But most of these project ideas aren't totally new; they're older experiments evolving to their next iteration.
Hearing the “castles” line in Losing Ground made me reflect: Is my constant busyness as of late a way to chase a kind of success that looks good to others? Am I truly making my personal work a priority?
More minimum creative acts
Not too long ago, I saw a social post that started with the following sentence: “To all the creatives with not enough time to create…” I swiped and read:
The post then walked me through a simple flow chart:
Does it spark joy?
Yes - If yes… keep going
No - If no, find something else
If yes,
Do you have time to do it every day?
Yeah! - If yea, keep going
Nope - Then, make it simpler
Until you can say “yeah” to “Do you have time to do it every day”
Now: Do it as often as you can.”
How great is that? My new rule of thumb is to keep projects and goals as small and manageable as possible. How can I make this so small that it would be a joke to not be able to finish it? The key is simplicity and ease.
Making pockets of time

I sometimes think about Ken Cosgrove from Mad Men. He's an account executive — one of the "suits" managing client work and the daily grind — but he surprises his colleagues by revealing his writing has been recognized by a prestigious magazine. His coworkers, mostly jealous, struggle to reconcile this artistic pursuit with their image of Ken.
We don't see his process too deeply, but we know Ken is dedicated to nurturing his creative side no matter what. He balances the demands of a steady job with a lowkey life as an artist, finding time to write before and after office hours. It takes discipline to build that creative space alongside the "castles" of everyday life.
I, like many of us, am tied to my own “castle building." No doubt, I have been the busiest I’ve ever been in my life and career. But I've been striving to follow Ken's example even 20 or 30 minutes a day. I’m working on pausing the endless construction and devoting pockets of time to “my own things.” Incremental progress is always better than none.
Currently on rotation

I’ve been listening heavily to two soundtracks from the movies Past Lives and Challengers. They are on the complete opposite ends of the spectrum and on my most chaotic days I oscillate between the two depending on the moment. I know people have their opinions of Challengers, but I appreciate it for the frenetic summer hit it is.