What We Hope For

What exactly do we hope for? Who is “we?” We, in this case, are all of us out there who do stuff. I suppose I need to be more specific, because quite frankly, that doesn’t mean a whole lot. I also suppose that since I am writing in a particular context, the level of specificity should be such that it goes a little like this: In this sense, the “we” is all of us who spend significant amounts of time, money, effort and energy on a project. There are thousands upon thousands of “us” and the numbers grow every day. I don’t pretend, nor would I want to, speak for all of us, so I will speak for me, a single number in all of us.

What do we, and really, that is “I,” hope for?

I guess the best place to start an answer is to provide a little bit of foundation first. What is a project? A project, in the context of this piece is a consistent activity that produces some kind of artifact that requires a significant outlay of resources (creativity, money, time, skill etc.). By consistent I mean something that is done semi-regularly, does that mean every week on Thursday afternoon? Sure. Does it mean every other 3rd Friday? Of course, does it mean once a year? Yes. The idea here is that “consistent” simply refers to more-than-once. That is a major indicator of whether this activity is a project or just an experiment. The “consistent” indicates a willingness to give something to this activity, a desire, a sense of purpose. This is important is answering this question.

Artifact, interesting way to put it really - what does that refer to? Does this project produce anything? I’m not always talking tangible here. I would consider awareness to be as viable an artifact as a compact disk.

A significant outlay of resources is at the very core of our definition. Projects require work. They require something of us; the artifact we produce just simply can’t come from nothing. It requires our toil and trouble, our money and time. It requires of us to think creatively, to exercise the most modern part of our brains to produce something meaningful (I am not going to even touch what that could or could not mean). This facet of project is what separates those that do, from those that do not. This isn’t a judgment of anyone, it really isn’t. This doesn’t interest everyone, and I’m assuming that those it doesn’t interest wouldn’t be reading this in the first place. But for those that do, that commit ourselves to our projects, this is the common thread that links every project, no matter what it is.

So here we are. We are those that have made a choice to do things. To make or produce things, to use our resources for some kind of effort without any promise of return; then what is it we hope for?

I can’t tell you what you hope for, what I can tell you is, what I hope for and maybe, just maybe that will sound familiar.

I have been in this business for 18 years now. I started publishing zines when I was in high school. Why did I get into it? Without getting all nostalgic and blubbery, it was a fascination with the process, but mostly because I felt it set me apart from everyone else. I already felt like an outcast, and for the most part I was. This was an opportunity to be a part of something that no one else was doing. It was exciting. It made me feel like I fit in to an outcast society.

It gave me a sense of belonging.

I had no idea at the time of what I could ever hope to get out of this project. It was just fun, plain and simple.

Over the years I realized that what I had hoped to get out of my zine publishing was a sense of accomplishment and well, to be completely honest something of a portfolio. It worked.

I think that, right there, is something we all hope for. Not that our projects will do things for us, but that it gives us a foot in the door. I don’t care what that door is, any door you may be trying to get through.

I have a hard time believing that everyone who does a zine, puts out a record, develops a website, writes a piece of software etc., is solely doing it for altruistic reasons and motivations. I would be lying to say that my motivation for Diysearch.com was only about helping others get the word out about their own projects. No, Diysearch.com serves some rather personal needs as well, and this is where ego and self-discovery kind of go hand in hand. Projects force us to learn. They are test beds for things we ordinarily wouldn’t try. They are enablers. Projects provide us with a framework to try other things. This simple concept is one of the biggest hopes I have for any project I undertake.

Yes, projects do indeed serve a rather important ego function; the desire to be noticed, to stand out, to be acknowledged for having done something. That attention can and does come in all forms, either through admiration, money or just a pat on the back. It is my hope that I be recognized for my projects. It is my hope to be extraordinary. I imagine that through engaging in your own projects that you hope to be extraordinary (and here’s a little hint, I bet you already are).

What we hope for, and what I believe drives us, is a mixture of entirely healthy pursuits, of ego satisfaction and providing others with the fruits of your labor. No matter the content or judgment of your production, the most significant thing we hope for is to provide a little meaning to our own experience.

Good job, now get back to work.

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