Lists are my exoskeleton.
My fat little red schedule is the lifeline of my daily productivity. I also keep myself in line with post-its, phone memos, scrap paper, and calender notifications (and basically anything that can hold bullet points.) If I were stranded on a desert island I could get along quite well, considering the unlimited amount of use I could get out of scheduling in the sand. I'm not sure what would happen if I were suddenly to lose all my existing bullet-point holders without any hope of making more; probably something like a nervous breakdown.
Lists are therapeutic. They are a psychological as well as physical part of planning and achieving.
Lists are what keeps blood pressure down and hair on, and quite possibly blood from spilling on the floor.
Exaggeration aside, I knew that I would need a notebook for Project Discipline of Wonder if it was going to go anywhere.
The very first thing I did after decorating the cover was to make a list *no prizes for guessing* of the first few things I knew I wanted to learn.
Entries ranged from sensible and slightly wacky to downright weird.
I won't release them all because I value my reputation as a normal, sane person, but here are a few choice selections:
I had some fascinating art history textbooks (you know, the sort that you never really realize are textbooks because they were so fun to read; A Child's History of Art or something like that, from Calvert School's curriculum) when I was young, and still remember quite a lot about the early Egyptian, Greek, and Roman sculptors; also the interesting stories and famous works of the Italian and French painters. We even had some rather depressing graphic books for children on Cezanne, Van Goth, and etc (depressing because the pictures were all in gloomy, dusty looking colours; and also because all the artist seemed to be either suicidal, languishing in desperate poverty but becoming wildly successful once they died, or both.)
But come to not-so-ancient art, or modern art, and I am decidedly hazy. I know a few names and even fewer works--Andy Warhol--Freida Kahlo, (did I even spell that right?) whom I only know because my artist sister used her to describe someone's eyebrows--Campbell soupcans and the chair with the self-explanatory label, or something or other--but that is about it. I enjoyed the art history I learnt, even if I don't use that knowledge everyday; I think a proper read-up on basic art history, especially the latter ages, would be even more useful, and definitely interesting (though perhaps, rather depressing as well...)
I have always thought it would be a great experience to work in a cafe, even if it isn't my own! Taking a barista course, however, would enable you to actually officially develop a recognized skill---and after all, who doesn't enjoy a good cup of caffeine?
Now for the more wacky ones...
This is not a budding criminal tendency, I promise you; just a perfectly normal overdose of spy and detective novels. Somehow the heroes (but especially the heroines) are always picking locks to get out of their prisons; and it always manages to sound like a realistic but simultaneously unattainable skill. After all, I had hairpins galore. Wasn't that all I needed?
I reasoned that for all you know I might just end up in a hair-raising adventure of my own, where I need to pick a lock to continue the adventure. Wouldn't it be a pity (and a rather lame story) if the adventure ended because I couldn't pick a lock, even with a hairpin? At any rate, the idea of ending up an unidentified body is a good motivation.
As you can tell these were special items. Computer Programming because it is something that is on the opposite side of the color wheel for me--I might as well learn how to fly. My brain (or the lack thereof) was not geared for subjects like these and though I'm glad they're not required learning, I do believe it's a useful and interesting skill I would like to understand, at the least, even if I won't be able to go very far in it.
Secondly, the DSLR. For many years I have been the happy owner of a Nikon D3200 (bought with much blood, sweat, tears, but mainly my own hard-earned dollars) and have enjoyed the quality of the photos it takes. HOWEVER, for the reason above, I never could quite understand how to manage all the functions and understand my camera. Basically I took pictures on a 'this-works-this-doesn't' basis; I have happily existed on the Auto No-Flash mode all these years. I know, a waste, right?
Sheesh. I hope to really buckle my brain down and be able to make the most of my camera with all its abilities.
I think I'll save the others, entertaining and embarrassing as they are, for when I actually manage to do them. Otherwise this will be just a detailed version of someone's bucket list.
To me, these things are not really significant until I've actually mastered them. There are so many things I would like to do--we all have our own bucket lists of sorts.
The real challenge, as we all know, lies in the ticking.