I am somewhere in the middle
I am somewhere in the middle
Why do books have to be sad. Heart wrenching. Controversial. Conflicted. Can’t we be happy? Why can’t we be friends? When I’m happy I don’t write. When I’m content I don’t write. When I’m sad I write. When I’m angry I write. When I’m in between, I think about writing and I don’t. Is there no other way? Must creativity and inner turmoil be so connected? Must I stifle that fire? How do you harness the universe? Why do I ask myself this same question so often? When you grow up, does your youth become a cobweb? Inaccessible energy? This is one question. This is many questions.
I am somewhere in the middle
I am somewhere in the middle
5 comments:
i noticed something like this too. this is how i tried to describe it - http://rebekahromney.blogspot.com/2008/03/imaginative-micro-societies.html
absolutely. i think this is just the kind of "water" that jane and i got used to using. what i really think the water is is a constant discovery a life - new emotions, sometimes, but also new places or thoughts or experiences. jane has a baby now and i think that has become her "water" in a sense, although i will say that it is very different. i think the kind of water you use yields a different kind of flower, but no one is to say that one is more or less creative/beautiful that the other.
liz! i'm so glad you found me, so that i could find you. it truly is time we became blog friends.
this is such an important question, and one that i have asked myself a thousand times. why can't i make art/write/etc. that is as poignant and strong when i'm in a contented frame of mind? isn't that emotion just as strong? how do we keep a motivation running when we're no longer relying on the creation of art as a form of therapy? (which seems to be the logical correlation between my ability to be prolific when i am angry/sad.)
liz, I'm so sorry that I have been far less than an adequate friend...I do read your blog and think of you often, I just don't know why it's been so hard to make friendship tangible as of late, I think we are all so busy. but... I did see that you are going to Portland... and... so am I! and Carl. I don't know how long I will be there, but quite possibly when you come! really, though, I would like to get together soon. hope you are well.
I've kind of wondered about this before too. I can only write poetry when I am sad. I've tried to write about happy things, but it always turns out . . . shallow. Does that mean my happiness is shallow? I don't think so. I think for some reason, I am better at putting words to my sadness. Maybe my happiness is something that I can't vocalize.
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