Hello, bloggers.

Here are some thoughts I’ve been having after thinking in depth about an individual’s place in this great cosmos, and the meaning of the term “ego.”  I’ve been thinking about this especially since having read and re-read the book The View from the Center of the Universe.

When I’m giving speeches in public, I always declare that as an artist, I’m not trying to be Miro or Picasso; I’m trying to be the best Matt Lamb that I can make myself.  It’s not that I discount the past, but I live in the future, always longing to discover or be associated with something new.  There’s a great feeling in this world that everything has been done before, and there’s nothing new under the sun.  For years I was in that camp. Now I’m not.  I’ve not only left that camp, I went back, packed up the tent, burned my clothes, and you’d have to burn the fields and sift the ashes to find any part of me there anymore.  I’m truly anchored in the future of “Who the hell am I, what am I doing, what can I do better?”

People always ask, “What is ego, and is it good, bad, or indifferent?”  I believe that ego absolutely is the acceptance of yourself, and if “they” don’t like, well, they can all go take a big shit for themselves.  It’s not my job for “them” to feel good about themselves because of what I do.  If we have to call it ego or eccentricity or innovation or acceptance of change or “such a stupid fool,” regardless, if we can start to accept ourselves as we are—with all of our halos, warts, and devils—we can really start enjoying this life because it is such an adventure.

When I go to sleep every night, I’m thinking about tomorrow:  how I’m going to tweak it, push it, pull it, kiss it, carress it, burn it, flush it, tomorrow.  That, to me, is the excitement.  That’s what I call ego:  doing because you want to do it; doing because you think you can do it; and doing because that’s who you are—not for some unnamed faceless automaton in the crowd who’s going to march by you, giving orders to the last 90,000 people they saw.  They can all go to hell.

I’ll be marching my parade of one the other way, saying “I’m going this way, and if you don’t want to march with me, you can go march off a cliff.  Or maybe I will—I really don’t give a shit.”  That’s my definition of ego.

Matt