Labour of love

Looking back on my own life, the work that I’m paid to do I barely remember, while the personal passion projects that I’m paid zilch for I look on endearingly.

When I open my photos app and see the many years of memories painstakingly collected and saved from the plethora of cameras I’ve owned, it’s pure bliss. And this blog that I started almost two years ago, looking back at the nostalgic entries stirs my spirit.

Contrast them with my ten years of work in the bank, in an investment office, pieces of work that I’m directed by the bosses to do, projects that I’m tasked to deliver. These things – I look back with barely a tinge of emotion – no feeling. No pride.

It all goes back to the things we do out of our own intrinsic motivation and the things we do because it pays the bills.

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