The More I Kept Posting, the Less Time I Had to Create | What I Reconsidered as a Creator

Hello, this is Reiji Kuga.

I wake up at 4:00 AM and open my computer.
I had intended to make some progress on my production today.

But, as usual, I open my X notifications.

I only meant to reply to one, but then I read the next post and end up writing a comment right away.

I check the clock.
It was already past 6:00 AM.
In the end, I couldn't even open my production software that morning.

Days like this haven't happened just once or twice.

That said, I don't think the time I spent on social media was a waste.

The conversations I had there and the people I met are precious to me.

In fact, perhaps it was precisely because they were important that I found it so hard to notice how my use of time was changing.

Just finishing the main work wasn't enough to get an unknown project discovered

I have been creating the metaverse drama "Crossroad" with Project Alive.

Even if you say you're making a drama in the metaverse, it doesn't mean it's finished once filming ends.

Just finishing a single episode takes over a month.

I edit the footage shot in the metaverse space and fix the sync between audio and video. I check the performers' movements and the flow of the scenes, and then I watch the finished video from the beginning all over again.

When I watch it back, I find things that bother me.

I sometimes end up adjusting the entire scene when I only meant to make a small fix.

While I'm working on a project, my head is completely full just trying to finish that one piece. I thought that if I took the time to make something I was satisfied with, someone would eventually find it.

I think that's what I believed somewhere back then.

But in reality, it was different.

An unknown work created by an unknown team is rarely watched just by releasing the main content.

Before people can judge whether a work is interesting or not, they don't even know it exists.

To put it a bit bluntly, if you aren't known, it's very close to not existing at all.

That's why we started putting out not just the main content, but also bloopers and behind-the-scenes footage from the shoot.

We deliver not just the finished video, but also the trial and error that led up to it. Seeing that behind-the-scenes content, there were people who became interested in 'Crossroad'.

That's when I learned that effort is required even after finishing a work in order to get it to people.

Perhaps I was seeking comfort in places where I could get an immediate reaction.

Since then, I started writing on note, sharing the behind-the-scenes of production on X, and creating a path to YouTube. I also jumped into Substack and looked for ways to connect with people in new places.

There is no doubt that by continuing to post, the number of people who know about my work has increased.

There were days when I received feedback, and during the long production process, I was saved by someone's words.

However, the more I continued to post, the more time I spent on it.

Thinking about posts every morning, replying to comments that arrived. Reading others' posts and leaving my own words. If I wrote a note, I also had to prepare images and post text.

Each one is a small task.

But when those pile up every day, it adds up to a significant amount of time.

In my case, I couldn't treat interaction with people as just a task.

I felt it was wrong to return only fixed phrases without reading most of the posts, and I wanted to reply to those who spoke to me in my own words.

That's why it takes time.

Even so, the reason I kept doing it wasn't because I hated it.

It was because I was happy to get a reaction back.

In work production, no matter how many hours a day you spend on it, nothing comes back from the outside until it is finished.

Even if you spend over a month on a single episode, it looks like nothing is happening in the meantime.

Only those on the production side know the time spent filming, editing, and repeating fine adjustments.

On the other hand, on social media, you can sometimes get reactions within the same day.

Being called by name, receiving comments.

There are moments when I can feel that 'I am being properly seen.'

Perhaps I was gradually seeking comfort in posting where I could see reactions, rather than in creation that rarely takes shape.

Even now, I cannot say that for certain.

However, it was a fact that the number of days where mornings intended for production ended only with interaction was increasing.

I am continuing to post.

But the next thing I want to create is not progressing. I could no longer pretend not to notice that discomfort.

This ratio no longer suited me as I am now

There are people who center their activities around posting, and there are people for whom new works and jobs are born from interaction.

I myself have met many people through posting, and many things have been born from those relationships.

Therefore, this is not a discussion about which is superior, posting or creation.

In my case, the ratio I had been using simply stopped working for me.

During the period of delivering 'Crossroad,' I needed time to keep talking to the outside world.

But now, I am about to start the production of a new metaverse drama in earnest.

I am also gradually making progress in creating an environment to reclaim my creation time.

Whether I am advancing a new work or preparing that environment, time is necessary.

I could not keep increasing everything while moving forward at the same speed.

That is why I decided to stop my morning routine for now.

It's not that I want to post less.
I wanted to create more.
To me, that distinction was quite significant.

I want to open my creative workspace before checking notifications

Wake up in the morning and post.

That had become my daily habit.
Even though it was just a matter of stopping, I was a little scared.

But if I kept going just out of that anxiety, I would lose sight of why I started posting in the first place.

The posting I started to share my work was actually reducing the time I had to create it.

It's a bit of an ironic story.

When I first started my morning routine, I needed time to connect with people every day.

Because of that time, there are people I can still talk to today.

There are people who discovered my work, and the number of people who care about my activities has also increased.

But now, I need time to face my creative workspace, which I can't show to anyone yet.

I don't know yet if this choice was the right one.

But the next time I open my computer at 4 a.m., I want to try opening my creative workspace before checking notifications.

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