This blog is about words and images, most frequently words about images.  Maybe there are some like it on the web, maybe not.  The great gift the internet has given us is ultimate control over content.  I create the content, edit it, filter it, and publish it. 

But then what happens to it?

The audience is where I lose control as a blogger, and the one major failing I see in self-published work.  Just like the zine scene, which I inhabited during my high school years, a few blogs rise to the top and gain some recognition while the rest remain adrift in the vast sea of the online universe.

For this reason and many others, I see submitting to real-life publications as a necessity to pull myself out of the crowded streets of the blogosphere and enter the more established traditional field of professional, paper publications.

The only trouble is, I am still trying to exercise that same control over content while not relinquishing total control over audience.  I pick and choose, this favorite piece of writing there, this photograph here.  I enter my work for publication only when I feel very strongly about the contest and am really invested in winning: which means, of course, I never do.

It's not about picking your favorite contest or magazine, and it's not about picking one favorite piece from six months' work.  It's about spreading your work widely as dandelion seeds and seeing what takes root.  It's about finding every opportunity that could possibly be relevent and going for it, even if it's not something terribly exciting.  It's about building a list of small accomplishments before trying for the long-reach, dream opportunity.

If there is one thing I want to take away from my short list of carefully chosen contests and publications, it is I need to do more in every way possible. I need to let as many eyes see these words and images as possible and just wait for something to stick.  And most of all, I need to keep working, keep thinking, and keep trying.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the whole grad school equation and how it fits into my other immediate goals. Many people have told me I am trying to do too much, and for the most part I have dismissed them as not knowing me, not knowing my ideal operating conditions. Doing too much is in my nature. How would I survive without that constant pressure?

There comes a time, though, when I do question myself and wonder what privilege has been afforded me that I don't need to listen to others' advice. Maybe everyone else is right. But then what of my plans?

As a rule, I tend to over-plan my life. This would not be a problem if I was just trying to be prepared for any outcome, but I am most often creating a complex, carefully constructed ideal view of my future. With this mindset I set myself up for failure and disappointment every time.

Slowly, I am realizing I have to know how to be at peace with any solution. In the long term, I won't get anywhere by trying to achieve every single goal to its fullest. Everyone knows I can set goals and achieve them. I have nothing to prove but my ability to set the right goals and maintain my sanity.

So what of my plans?

Part of me has always felt I am entitled to an advanced degree: to be categorized in a certain way by my family, to feel satisfied with myself, and to prove that I stand on even ground with my partner if he chooses to go back to school. The only problem is, none of these are really great reasons to commit more money and years to my education. There are many definitions of success, and just as I have proven that success does not mean the highest-paying job, I need to realize success does not mandate a master's degree, either.

I would be truly happy in the MACA program at MICA, and I doubtless have the capacity to dedicate my life to it and be very successful. It is “what I want to do,” but it is one outcome out of many. My decision to return or not return to school is just that. It is not a betrayal of myself, my parents, or anyone who has written me a letter of recommendation.

For sure, I will apply to the MACA program. Until the reply deadline of April 1st, I will keep it in my hands as piece to my puzzle, turning it this way and that to see how it could fit.

But then there are other plans, other successes: moving to Baltimore, buying a house, getting a “real job,” saving money for someday children, settling into a life that promises to last more than a year or two. If going back to school compromises my personal career more than it promises to advance it, maybe I will defer for a year. Maybe I will accept the job that will surely be waiting to meet me at the end of my VISTA year. After all, they say one year at this particular job is equal to seven years experience in the non-profit world. There is no way I can fail to find a good job I will love.

I need to create my own definition of success and figure out what is most important to me. I cannot have everything I ever wanted, nor can I resent the fact that I chose one positive outcome over the other. And really, that's what I'm doing. My life is full of fantastic options. I can't have them all, but I can pick and choose to find the winning combination. After all, isn't that what makes options great?

I've always been successful in life, but the question I am asking myself now is, did I finesse it? Sure, I've proven time and again that I can sidestep prioritizing by working on everything at once. My life is reaching a point, though, where I want to slow down and take the time to do a few things very well. I guess it's not about fitting all the pieces into the puzzle, but collecting a lot of pieces so I can choose the ones that make the best picture.