antiantiblog #9January 4, 2008 at 3:32 pm | Posted in writing | 4 Comments
A trickster sprite, not quite Ariel, appeared and scattered these,
Well, go ahead and make a mess of them, but I have
Why do you blog?
Why do you write?
How old are you?
What’s your life’s ambition?
What’s your favorite color?
Do you read a lot?
What do you want the most?
I have read something ever since I learned to read. After touch, language is the primary connecticon.
Haha, with permission to make a mess of them, I say, I decided to be a writer 27 years ago, when I was seventeen and felt too ugly and ungainly to be an actor and realised I would never be able to play the piano like Oscar Peterson. I did not wish to be a ghost, a pale imitation. The language, I so pretentiously call it, has become the nexus between me and the world. It was language that allowed us to communicate more clearly which allowed for the evolution of closer ties, beyond grooming and please bend over now and you go that way, I’ll go these and I’ll meet you in the middle and we will skewer that peaceful deer, I am hungry.
Language allows for respect and compassion, the building blocks of community.
I am blogging because it is good for my writing. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t do it because I can say, even though it is a cliche and pretentious that writing is the only thing of meaning that I have as a result of my decisions and my ability, all the rest have either come from my understanding of how the language works or pure sweet chance or both.
These things are literally true and hence have little imagery which is another layer of language, another level of connection between the vast unknown outside the bubble of your senses, and the soft and wondrous child forever looking at the stars the first of which was the sparkle in the mother’s eye.
My life’s ambition and what I want the most have become the same thing but only as I got older and lazier. I would like to figure out a way to apply certain fundamental principles which are weaved in and out of my work to the world and hence to be able to make a living as an artist.
After touch, language is the primary connection.
My favourite colour is the blue of her eyes.