Along with (and possibly related to) my love of oratory, is my love of poetry.
It’s not something I talk much about, or actively pursue, but it’s there nonetheless, and likes to creep up on me occasionally, to remind me it’s still there.
Last year I started to do Project 365 but I fell by the wayside quite early, managing to only upload 21 photos in 34 days.
This year, I started Project 365 again on January first, and fell by the wayside before I’d even got that far and it really bothered me.
On the basis that doing the same thing and expecting a different result leads to lunacy I decided that there was no point in shouting at my inner dustbins or beating myself up about it. So, on January 31st, I started over again.
While there may have been the odd day that I forgot until a few minutes past midnight, and that one day where I did something different for a good reason, I’ve stuck to it and am incredibly proud to have made it to 100 days.
It just reinforces the notion that if I really want to, I can do whatever I set my mind to. In an ideal world, we’d all believe that, but we don’t live in an ideal world.
So I’m taking some time to acknowledge that taking a photo a day for 100 days is an achievement. Yes, I’ve lacked inspiration. No, every photo isn’t a masterpiece, but that isn’t (and hasn’t been) the point of this exercise.
I’ve been creative and created something every day for 100 days. That’s got to be worth celebrating.
So, to celebrate, I put together a desktop wallpaper and rather than just use it myself, I thought I’d share it. It’s only available in one size – 1440 x 900 – but shouldn’t look hideous at other resolutions.
If you desperately want this in another resolution, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.
Last but not lease, I owe huge thanks to everyone who’s left a comment or encouraged me to keep going via twitter. It really has helped when the motivation has taken a dip.
I can’t quite remember when I realised how much I love listening to someone speak well enough about a subject to move me. There’s a bit of my brain that gives the credit to West Wing, but realistically, it’s probably more closely related to the many years I spent in various churches listening to sermons when I was a kid.
That’s not to say that I love to listen to sermons – I don’t – at least, not for the religious content.
I suppose what I enjoy is being moved, and when you listen to someone who is passionate about their subject speak well about that subject, you can’t fail to be moved in some way.
I want to be inspired. I want to learn. I want to feel. I want to care. I want to leave the room a changed person from the one who entered.
A couple of months ago, I downloaded all the available audio podcasts from the TED conference. Ever since, any time I go to the supermarket, I plug in my headphones and listen to a TED talk. I’ve walked and bought groceries listening to people talk about literally everything under the sun – and above it too, and there hasn’t yet been a talk that I’ve skipped because it was boring. I’ve had my mind blown while buying broccoli and been inspired while trying not to buy ice-cream. Some of the topics have been things I wouldn’t have chosen to listen to had I been on the site and given the choice, but the randomness of the method has opened my mind to things I’d never have thought about otherwise.
It’s been fabulous, and I’m not even done with them all yet.
A few weeks ago, I came back from a days work at a client site and I was just exhausted. I flopped on the sofa with my station-bought salad and was idly flicking through the channels when I stumbled across the opening couple of minutes of The Speaker.
I stopped because it was a competition about public speaking specifically involving teenagers, but I have to admit that I was a little bit doubtful about how it would pan out. I wasn’t sure that Oratory Idol was a format that could work, but somehow, it did.
It was Stacy (who will forever in my mind be “the gobby one”) talking about her life that stopped me from flipping on to a different channel but I think it was too-cool-for-school Haroon’s speech that made me put down both my fork and the remote and really pay attention, and from that point on, I was hooked.
I was inspired. I learned. I felt. I cared. It changed me.
It was compelling in a way I didn’t expect. I lived and died with the kids as they worked their way through the tasks given to them. There were more than a few occasions where it was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t bear it and had to get up and leave the room, and I was more affected than I thought I’d be when some of my early favourites didn’t make it to the final.
I’ve always said that I hate being the centre of attention – and that’s true up to a point, in that it depends what kind of attention. Watching The Speaker reminded me how much I’ve grown to actually enjoy being a Speaker myself, and throughout the series, I actually learned a lot. It’s even left me wanting to learn more – to the extent of seriously considering joining a Toastmasters club to get more experience and hone my skills.
I know I’m never going to be Jed Bartlett from The West Wing, or Barack Obama, but I really hope that one day, I’ll be able to look back and not only feel, but know that I was able to educate, inspire or move people the way I’ve been moved by many of the Speakers I’ve listened to.