it was very difficult at the thursday writing collective. very. i felt unloved, underappreciated, baffled, bemused, bewildered and bitched. the words that used to flow so freely – somehow they had dried up.
frustrating, and humiliating if truth be told
so, being a bolter, i did what i know best – i walked.
being introspective. having the habit of putting my own actions under a micrscope, to search within, and without, to achieve some sort of equilibrium. some narrative i can feel comfortable and live with. i pondered long and hard. through a few bad sleep nights.
i have got out of the habit of writing to journal, to express my various selves, my different consciousnesses – physical, mental, emotional, philosophical…………………
apart from the kali story (and that is another story) for the past ten years or more the only writings i have done have been bios, artist statements, grant proposals, program descriptions………reports………
not that any of these are not ‘creative’ – all writing is creative. whatever form it takes the act of writing is the making of a story. a joining together of ideas, thoughts, events, descriptions, united in a language that communicates and resonates whether as algebraic equations, geometric theorems, musical score, lyrical prose, poetry, a rock song’s lyrics. all these are creative acts of communication. they all require an imaginative laying out of the ‘story’ and a description of the scene.
and what was missing from the writing i produced at the thursday collective sessionsdid not come from my personal experiences or observations. there was head (cerebral activity) but no heart (personal narrative).
i guess use it or lose it applies across the broad spectrum of skill sets humans have.
so, back i will go this coming thursday, to begin the process of reinventing myself yet one more time. wish me luck.