Having something to say is more important than guessing what people want to hear. But when the muse turns into a slave driver with her own agenda, what do you do? Leaving off the notion of fiction and identity for a bit, let's do one of those Matrix freezes and rotate the camera's point of view 180 degrees to consider the effect of audience upon performed selves.
Living in this relatively small backwater of blogdom, I am only recently becoming aware that this isn't a monologue. Not only is this a journal, it is one spotlit, with the possibility that one reading over my shoulder will tap it and ask for a point of clarification or comment.
There is an organic growth to these interconnections. The cast of characters that populate my daily reads, while still abstractions (and there's that identity thing again), are increasingly becoming personalities with distinct voices. I hear voices. They speak to me. Sometimes, literally. (Really, that pun wasn't intended).
The process of creating an entry, for me, is more akin to the process one uses for painting. Once the concept is in my head, the challenge is to craft meaning in my own manner. The words are removed and distant. Like puzzle pieces that are arranged for rhythm, cadence, and clarity.
I don't consider myself a great writer, but making clear pictures is something I strive for.
The filtering part is the last consideration. Once I've determined the topic, even if it's personal - I'm sort of committed. And like a drawing, I blur the edges and take away some of the edge, leave allusion. That's a process of distancing and abstraction. So by the end, they're arranged words spawned from meaning.
Other than that, there's been little filtering...to the surprise of my friends.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment