Edit (Edit, Edit...)

Some days I ask myself, why do I edit? Other days I ask myself, why the hell do I edit?


Those are the days when your system is so slow it's probably going back in time several operating systems (Windows 3.1, anyone?) and editing a single clip is sheer unmitigated torture punctuated only by the glaring hourglass icon. But you can't stop yourself because you woke up and couldn't get an image out of your head, a one-two-three-uh-huh that goes perfectly with a scene, and you just need. To see it. Work. So despite the technical difficulties you trudge onward and outward; the timeline inching forward (wait, an inch? A WHOLE inch? Now that is optimism right there) until reality is shaped into a latent image of what you saw in your mind.

It's never good enough. What do drug addicts call it? Chasing the dragon? No matter how hard you work on it, the final result is never up to par with what you pictured in your mind. A slight frown crosses your face as you watch the playback:

iseeaflickerthereishouldextendthatclipmaybechangethatsceneohgodthetimingisoffat36.47

Obsess, obsess, obsess. It's never good enough.

Well, duh. To you, it isn't.

You need to trust yourself enough to have confidence that what you made, rocks. Is the shizzit. Is teh pretty. (Even when you don't really believe it.) Because the hardest part is letting go of your baby. You don't want people to be mean to your baby. You want them to be like, this is the best, most well-behaved baby ever. 16:9 aspect ratio, perfect resolution, elegant titles and credits, and cuts so sharp you'll bleed if you don't watch out.

So you toss your baby onto YouTube and reel those comments in. Nothing like, "OMGasdfk i luved your video!!!!!!!1" to boost the ego in the morning.