i’ve been experimenting with writing lately.
finding various channels to sort of ‘start fresh’ like you would in a new city.
it’s been a great exploration so far, and a very personal one.
so far, my writing has centered on itself.
i’ve been writing about writing.
but not like how-to’s or do’s and don’ts.
not like historical analysis
or a genre investigation…
nope. i’ve just been writing about the way that i write.
which is this:
i find a sentence that moves me, even though i am not sure why.
i flow from there.
by flow i mean write without stopping.
i sometimes jump back into an incomplete thought, if i feel taken by it’s lack of clarity.
when something ‘isn’t clear’ i have to elaborate or fix it so that i understand what i was trying to say.
that’s the self exploration squared.
i’ve already learned a lot. ex: i generally find a way to criticize myself, i use the rule of thirds, and i say ‘i’ a LOT.
it feels good to find the freedom to explore this sort of external introspection publicly.
examining the way i say something as apposed to what i say is really satisfying.
i can’t help but wonder what subject i will move onto once this one becomes exhausted.
in my most recent writing experiment, i felt a strong urge to find a way to rope in diabetes somehow. i tried ever so hard but came up fruitless.
at first thought, i felt a sense of failure. i couldn’t do something i wanted to do.
at second thought, i experienced a softening sense of success. for once the big D didn’t make the cut.
it got me thinking about why i’m writing about the way i write.
it got me thinking about a claim i’ve always made about my muse like it was an all in bet.
diabetes, or the anger and fear that resulted from my diagnosis is something i have always credited for my entry into the mysterious world of word.
i was feeling so much and had to get it out. i needed to feel it leave me physically and energetically through pen or keyboard.
i was feeling so many things i didn’t understand.
i was lost and coping.
i was attempting to find my way back to a state of being i couldn’t remember.
and i think i am trying to find that place again now, only this time…
diabetes doesn’t fit in.
and i suppose that makes sense because the state i of being i was in prior to diabetes was, well, diabetes free.
even finding a bit of clarity there, this unexpected blues is throwing me for a loop. diabetes has never failed to relate to anything in my book. diabetes relates to disneyland (#makessenseifyouhavediabetes) for goodness sake!
being okay with diabetes not being a part of this particular exploration is something i am learning.
with that said, i’m incredibly excited to meet the driver.
it’s some inspiration right in front of me, but just blurry enough to miss.
there is something else driving this experimentation and i just can hardly wait to find out what it is.
_ __ _____ __ _ _ ____ ____ _ __ _____ ________
writing about your own writing is weird.
and now, here, i am writing about the weirdness of my tendency to write about my own writing.
yikes. what a mess.
i am writing some really cryptic shit.
does anyone know an analyst?