The Benevolent Prince

Everybody wants to change the world. It's been like that ever since humanity began thinking there was a "world" to change.

It's been said that to change the world one must become the change one wishes to see.

And yet, we speak of change in terms of revolution, as though the only true fix can come in a sudden and drastic overhaul, dictated from above. But let's speak of revolution later. For now, let's content ourselves with Change.

We are an instant-gratification society, and so we say change needs to happen now. But speed is not the way to build over the long term. We need to plant the seeds now that will change society in two or three generations, or more. (This is the key to why true change does not usually come from political circles. There needs to be a groundswell, a grassroots tipping-point, before politicians take notice and it becomes "official". Planting seeds does not win fame, or votes, in the immediate term.) Change rarely occurs within a moment, as far as we generally like to think. It occurs from a moment, yes, but after a minute and gradual shift from where it was to where it will be -- from a moment, but not in one.

So one must first come to terms with the conclusion that you will never live to see the world you have changed. The lesson to all that wish to change the world: make sure you don't care about change for yourself.

Instead be the change you wish to see. Let your legacy take care of itself.

Anima

For us, our anima statement is more than a mission statement... it comes from within, from the soul. We want to have more than a career.

Living is the career.

When we figured out we were putting together a form of business, this was the original Anima Statement:

"To build a world-leading omni-media corporation binding cutting-edge artistry in all forms to innovative business applications based on supporting the freedom of individual passion in a mutually-supportive environment."

That meant allowing individuals to follow their artistic passion, be it in music, writing, graphic design, web design, film, clothing design, marketing and sales or architecture or whatever... and coordinating each to each other for mutual support and collective advantage.

Of course, I am also a special type of crazy, and we are not Microsoft or Martha Stewart. The sentiment of collaborative support is nice, but completely unworkable given my reclusive nature and personal peculiarities. One needs to meet people, talk about mutual interests, discuss cross-pollinating projects, and keep things together on an ongoing basis.

Given that, I'm inclined to say our anima statement is more along these lines:

To stand united together as the couple we are, do what we want when we want, be honest and moral in our dealings with others, not care about what others think, and keep on keeping on.

I'm sure I'll think of more as we go on...

"and one blog shall rule them all..."

I hate beginnings almost as much as I hate endings. They're awkward. They're scary.

And I'm not sure if they matter. I mean, they have to happen, but... that's just existing in this space-time version of reality, isn't it? Stuff starts, stuff happens, and stuff ends. (Sometimes it even happens in that order, but that's an assertion for another time.) So here I am starting something.

I've started lots of things. I've finished way fewer, but I'm definitely pretty good at starting stuff. But then my laziness, my apathy, my easily-distracted attention gets the better of me, and I decide I'd rather be doing something else. Or I figure what I started isn't exactly the best form to accomplish what I thought I wanted to do, and I decide I'd rather be doing something else.

But let's not beat this beginning to death. Let's just say it's happened and move on.