We can attempt to teach the things that one might imagine the earth would teach us: silence, humility, holiness, connectedness, courtesy, beauty, celebration, giving, restoration, obligation and wildness.
David Orr from "Earth in Mind"

Feb 26, 2008

on being paralyzed

there are days when i have too much in my mind focus on any one of them. there are characters greeting asking for plots to inhabit, projects i want to add to my ever growing list, business plans that need implementing. the list goes on and i find as each appears in my mind it competes for attention until nothing really is clearly a thought just a series of ideas.

then there will be one word, or image or phrase that settles in my mind, one that needs to be turned into something. there it will stay until it is taken care of, not just in rough form but until it is a full formed something. some days these internal requests are simple or at least somewhat formed. Others, like today are persistent but with out hope of immediate creation.

i was greeted during a drive with the phrase you ambiguous little fuck, said by some character to another who are good friends of opposite sexes it is said in humor. but that is all i was given. i've spent the rest of the day beginning to create the world where this phrase was spoken. i need lots of time with paper and pen to see where this takes me.

in the mean time i feel as though everything else in my life needs pushing aside, something that is an impossibility, so now i will begin the process of stealing moments to see where this goes, meeting new characters to fallen in love with and to nurture. for me writing a story is like making a new friend, it is always exciting at first a manic crush of knowing and supposing. and like real people my characters surprise me with things about themselves and places they persuade me to go.

to describe this to someone not in the middle of these feelings it is like having a crush on someone new who wants to give you all the attention in the world. it has the wonder and excitement as well as the underlying discontented pain of insecurity. for the case of writing it is my own wonder if i an really the person who is supposed to be telling this story and in the end if anyone else would care to hear what i have written.

that being said i would add that while i am the writer i can not honestly claim that the stories are my own since they seem to just come to me as if i am being told them. often i stay up late because i want to know what is going to happen next.

of course i haven't felt thing way since before alder so i have no idea the logistics of doing this along with all the other things that are going on in our life. back in denver when we were just a vaguely married couple i could always find a spare six hours here and there to delve into these characters. happily i took advantage of it and do not look back in regret. so i'm off to be sucked into a new world... who knows i might even get to feel a first kiss again (being the thing i miss most about being monogamous)

2 comments:

Wendy said...

Ah! The muse. Mine left me when I became happily married and had three more children, but I think we might be ready to become reacquainted - Muse and I ;).

I know the feeling you describe. It's incredible. I love reading my stories after years of not seeing them ... but then wondering if I'm just crazy or if they're really good, and then, why, if they're really good, has no one offered to publish them :).

Anonymous said...

i love this way you described the flow of the pen and how words come through you, not really belonging to you, but more to the paper on which you write.

"that being said i would add that while i am the writer i can not honestly claim that the stories are my own since they seem to just come to me as if i am being told them. often i stay up late because i want to know what is going to happen next."

great post! i'm excited for you, my friend!