*
A Writer Who Writes
Recently I started writing again. Since then, I've been hoping to express my thoughts on me writing in some form other than rapid-fire, manic utterances to my husband over dinner, and have been somewhat successful. I've been consistent in posting to my (private) livejournal, which is a stellar accomplishment for me, and have been discussing with uber-insightful friends, who I bow to (that means you, JS.) A particular note of interest is that I have kept a livejournal (an lj, for us vets) since 2000.
This is relevant because it testifies, from myself, to myself that I do in fact have a writerly spark that so many (all?) writers speak of. I even feel a pang of guilt when ending sentences in prepositions. I have at times questioned that spark, that "impulse within, like a biological fact" mentioned in my previous post, because I have, in comparison to others, rarely produced pieces of writing. Perhaps this is a good thing, considering my age and overall hour-count of sweat and blood poured out for my craft. I also have taken intermittent writing reposes due to demands of practicality, other creative endeavors or generally being lazy. There's been fear and cowardice in there too. A lot of fear.
Who's the Greatest?
I mention on my profile for the online college I attend (how many hours of sweat and blood did I pour into crafting that baby?) that there are people who make me want to write and people who make me want to never write again. After about 30 minutes of consternation, I arrived at the following list.*
People who make me want to write: Jonathan Goldstein, E.B. White, Flannery O'Connor
People who make me want to never write again: Marilynne Robinson, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Anton Chekhov
These carefully selected gods are stratified in my mind on a purely subjective basis. The former reflects a (wishfully) homologous voice and vision to my own. I feel we see the horrors and humors of life, the glory and foibles of man, in a similar way. When I read their work, I understand it deeply and easily, and it causes me to reach for that same place in myself. I greet them like old, true friends. The latter, however, posses qualities which I know nothing about and will never know about. In fact, I don't want to know about them. No. I want them to lead me, and I will devoutly follow. Though they slay me I will trust in them.
There's really no greater significance in me mentioning (justifying) this; I have no grander thoughts on the subject as of yet and thus, no plan. If I am honest, I will admit that these blog posts are going to be a bit myopic. It's a time thing, and that's the truth. If I had more of it, I'd make each blog sing. As it is, we're settling for scatteredness (no spellcheck, not sacredness, not yet) and incomplete thoughts. But that's what blogs are for, right? This one, anyway. Though I will be posting complete works (assignments) here too which will expand the audience beyond other artists who already know what I am talking about.
Go, Go Intuition
I was recently involved in a discussion about the play My Name is Asher Lev, which implicated me in more ways than I can probably imagine (the discussion, not the play.) For the record, I cried, but only because someone asked me to think of everyone who's ever hurt me - who can deflect that? During the talk, several of the gnawing ought-to questions I'd been wondering about for, well, a long time, were quelled. To be fair, and honest, I did a lot of wondering about these questions without a lot of thinking. They loomed, but never pressed. I wasn't struggling with them, but they were there - merely on the basis that I knew they should be.
Questions about intuition. Feeling. A mode. The mode, like sinking downward in still water, and the overall permissibility of such things (not that I have ever not lived like that, though I have tried, sadly.) The constant perception of being. No critique or analysis, just perception and transmission to words and images. Conduit, not commentator. And come to find out that's what a true artist does. I dare say I was very, very wrong about a lot of things, which is no new occurrence. Though I am elated to discover that my strong and natural inclination was in fact correct. To borrow from Cream, "I-i-i feel free."
Pump Up The Volume
As I return to words, I return to sound. I could have predicted this but was too busy doing the dishes and loving my husband and reading Hume and a bunch of other good stuff to notice. Anyway, music is returning to the position in my life that it formerly held as a consequence of my return to writing. I think this is the case because a return to writing is a return to a state. And states often have soundtracks, or they should anyway. And I'm not talking about Bach, though a small part of me thinks I should be. No, I'm talking about Coldplay.
I've recently been unearthing old songs I loved via YouTube. Here was the crown of them all, my life's favorite song. I providentially just got a new iPod, even. Music is a big part of my writing life. Music that moves me, not really music that is great. *winces and waits for stoning*. There's also poetry, my favorite music, to which my allegiance belongs.
A Return to The Subjective
After studying philosophy --- and being delivered from the hell of nihilism --- I noticed a great pendulum swing in myself from exclusive subjectivity to exclusive objectivity. In an effort to correct the relativistic whirlpool that was my thinking, I created a truncated, abstract version of the world and began acting like a robot in order to maintain integrity within it's system. After a few years of that, and some, eh ehm, confrontations, I find myself slowly reaching equilibrium. Truth and feeling. Law and art. Ahhh.. that's better.
And so it is, a return to the underworld, my underword. They know me well here, and I know them. Since my last stay, I have learned that feeling does not have to be at the expense of thought, nor thought at the expense of feeling. For a time I imagined a re-entry to the world of writing causing a tsunami of contempt and compassion and curiosity and restlessness (and it has) that would drown out my mind and pull me into a mine pit operated by my own demons. However, I think it was cowardice that moved me to that conclusion. It hurts to make art --- did you know that?
At peace with God,
A
*subject to revision.
Thank you for writing this about your jounrney. As one who does not write, though greatly appreciates and loves it, it helps me to understand the thoughts and feelings of those who do. (or at least of you:)If you plan to expand and revise, I would like to hear more of your musings on "Who's the Greatest."
ReplyDeleteThank you:)
Shy
Thanks for commenting, Chey. I am glad it was understandable. ! <3
ReplyDeleteI love reading your blogs! Even when I don’t always fully understand. And I mean that in a good and honest way. :)
ReplyDeleteA Writer Who Writes:
I am so happy to hear that you are rediscovering your “inner writer”. Quantity isn’t as great as quality, and so it is better to write few genius works than write profusely but they be mediocre. Of course, there are people who can do both…somehow. I don’t know if this is something to ask over a blog, but I was wondering. Why has there been fear in you over writing? “For a time I imagined a re-entry to the world of writing causing a tsunami of contempt and compassion and curiosity and restlessness (and it has) that would drown out my mind and pull me into a mine pit operated by my own demons. However, I think it was cowardice that moved me to that conclusion.” <---- Essentially is it because you feared what it would reveal within you? What it make you think and feel? Does it specifically have to do with things in your past? Or other areas?
Who’s The Greatest?
I agree with Cheyanne about hearing more of what you were speaking about here. I only know of the one author Marilynne Robinson and I haven’t heard of the others. It sparked my curiosity, though, what you mean by the latter authors possessing qualities you don’t want to know about. Are they unmentionable? Haha. “Though they slay me I will trust in them.” That is a good line.
I will be looking forward to reading your future assignments!
Pump Up The Volume:
I totally agree with you about music coinciding with a “state” and your writing. Music also fuels my creative mind. Maybe not explicitly as it sounds like it is for you, but definitely in a big way and there are many parts of my life that have music attached to it. That when played a flood of memories come! “And I'm not talking about Bach, though a small part of me thinks I should be.” Haha! Another good line.
A Return to The Subjective:
I understand what you are saying here. I think that despite the fact that you had a great pendulum swing and are trying to reach equilibrium, it shows boldness and earnestness, which is essential. Better to risk the great pendulum swing and come to learn than be cautious and be "paralyzed". :)
"It hurts to make art --- did you know that?"
Agreed. Though, honestly, I do not know it in the way you describe that it is for you. For me it is more of an exertion of the will and the mind which plays out in skill and diligence. I create in a very objective way almost separate from myself. At any rate, art is a labor as it should be. The Sistine Chapel wasn't painted in a day. ;)
Danielle,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for taking the time to articulate your comments. I truly appreciate it and always look forward to reading them. I feared writing for a few reasons, I think. One was that I wondered what it would make of me. It requires a serious modal shift that is most unlike life-living. It is another feeling completely and in the past, has had the power to overtake my mind in an unhealthy way. As I've begun to write, however, I have not found that to be the case, though there has been an onslaught of emotions. Which was my other fear. But I seem to be carrying all the pain and suffering and embarrassment of the world on my shoulders just fine so far.
As for the authors I mentioned whose writing has qualities I don't even want to know about --- yes, well. That is my way of expressing their intangible, ineffable greatness. At times while reading their work I just want to throw it across the room, it's so beautiful. The language itself and the concepts.
"Better to risk the great pendulum swing and come to learn than be cautious and be "paralyzed"." --- this interests me. I think I have experimented with each. A cowardly caution and a lawless zeal. Slowly climbing out of that pit...
Very, very, very interesting to me is your description of the pain of art-making. I understand completely your zen-monastical-perfectionism. I approach it that way as well, but coupled with an emotional asceticism that weighs on the soul. The easiest way (though perhaps not the clearest way?) to put it is that to write something, I become it. To write characters, I become them, feeling all their failures and triumph. It requires opening myself to a world whose terrain is tumultuous and often enough controlled by malicious gods, like any legitimate underworld is. Yet, "Lest too light winning / make the prize light" -The Tempest.
I have been meaning to respond to this, but got distracted by Facebook. ;-) Hehe! Thank you so much for your compliments on the things I say all the time and I am glad you look forward to reading them. Discussing things with you is always a good experience. :-)
ReplyDeleteIt has been interesting for me to discover Anastasia as a writer vs Anastasia as a photographer. They aren’t very much different, but the writer part sounds much more stressful and seems to go to a much deeper part of yourself. Would you say that to be true? About the being a deeper part of yourself? I cannot imagine writing as if I were the characters and experiencing all those emotions. It would be much too much for me. I can somewhat relate to the aspect of something “overtaking your mind in an unhealthy way”. I think there might be a tendency in every artist to take things to an unhealthy level. My childhood was spent taking my imagination to an unhealthy level, that is for sure, and I still have the same tendency. I have actually been trying to put that into subjection to the Spirit. I am an incessant and compulsive daydreamer. I have got to curb that habit without destroying the gift! So I am glad to know you have been able to carry this burden in your writing all right so far. I think you will do fine as you progress through your schooling and learn new things as you refine your skill.
All this talk about your writing and art makes me want to read your story more than ever now!
I thought it was funny how you desire to throw those authors works across the room for being so good! Haha! Strange, I have the same response to books I hate. ;-P I know the feeling, though, of someone being so good, it is inexpressibly wonderful and maddening. Hehe!
You described it well as being "cowardly caution" on one end and "lawless zeal" on the other. I tend to see myself usually choosing the former throughout life than the latter. :-/
Danielle,
ReplyDeleteThe writer part IS indeed much more stressful and goes to a much deeper part of myself. Yes, that is accurate!
Did your parents or anyone around you know what you were doing, or was it totally indiscernible?
"Curb the habit without destroying the gift" - nice.
Story coming soon... :):)
Inexpressibly wonderful and maddening, yes! It must be destroyed!!!
I think I too find myself on the "cowardly caution" end of the spectrum, which I think is natural for God-fearing individuals who would rather be safe than sorry. Though I am learning how important courage is.. that's for certain. I may have another blog post about that soon..
A
Ana,
ReplyDeleteOh, well, everyone knows I am the daydreamer in the family, but no one knows just how much. :-D Hehe. I have actually, by the Lord's grace, been able to control it to some degree, for which I am very thankful.
"Inexpressibly wonderful and maddening, yes! It must be destroyed!!!" Haha! Hilarious! Erika, Alexis, and I love to talk about how much we want to destroy something that we love so much. Very violent behavior, indeed. ;-)
Yes, courage is very important. The righteous are bold as a lion, Proverbs 28:1. I will be waiting to read the blog post about it. Unless it was your last one? Hehe! Sorry, but I do not know if you were meaning you were going to do a blog post specifically on the subject or were going to post "boldly" proclaiming about your liberating epiphanies as a writer. :-)