Wicked Wanderings in the Dining Room
A warmer spot and less breezy.Recent events and readings have led me down to the well mentioned from the view of the back porch (see the previous post). The well I speak of is a metaphor for the creative spring that stirs and calms my emotional states. Creativity in the past and foreseeable future for me will burst or trickle depending on the limitations I perceive at any given time. Tonight's puking of posts bares witness to such phenomena slightly related to what is known as projectile vomiting. A whole lot, that travels quite far.
My limitations are usually perceived as coming from the outside world in an array of different disguises. There is the illusion of time, the delusion that I have something to actually communicate, the wall of distracting sounds (babies screaming, neighbors carousing), and the dust bunnies squirreling about under foot. These distractions I can sometimes recognize as just that, but most of the time they block me and corner me. I feel forced to quell the creative impulse because my environment does not fit into my standards for getting into my head. And then I spend several hours or days, putting my house in order and listening all the while to my head ramble on about random things. It's times like these that I desire a direct feed from head to a computer in which all thoughts are dumped and organized into a text document that I can sort through when I feel I have the time.
But we as a race have yet to devise such a marvelous toy and I am tempted to digress into whistles, clucks and whirling noises...
I have started playing with the idea to create yet another site in which to post short works and folklore. I have determined (in last few minutes) that a site devoted to linking pages of folklore is quite silly, as if you want to find a bit of lore, you may google your subject quite easily. And in all seriousness, I do not believe I have the type of readership that will frequent a page that I update with new links to mythic sources. There are several pages already doing that.
As for short works written by me, I need to do more research into the web publishing of essays that have have been submitted for assignments and awards. It seems that the university system may have a bit of a hand in that so I need to double and triple check what is permissible. These pieces I would love to share in a forum that can be viewed by people and perhaps start discussions. Especially my essays regarding initiation, comparative myth, body art and mortification.
But here my limitations and the "dark head" turn around and stare me down. The confidence levels pertaining to my abilities to to write cohesively and coherently shy away into the shadows of my pysche. I am left looking at my portfolio and questioning the validity of the TA's comments and my motivation for taking out thousands of dollars in loans to have my ego waxed and polished. Now, before you start posting words of confidence, realize that I recognize this demon. He is hard to banish at times, and it will become easier as I choose a path, or least realize that I am already on one.
I think my point goes something like this:
I enjoy writing and Wicked Wanderings is an outlet in which to garner a bit of feed back or express thoughts that need to be out in the world, not in a journal (that's for the ultra violence and weird shit). However, there are cycles that I go through in which I seek to define what it is I am doing and where I am going. Nights like this are why I have the blog. Nights that I want to stir the well and release the stagnation simmering within. Sometimes I need to tell the universe something, other times I need to tell you something, and still other times I just need to puke it all out. Wicked Wanderings is the perfect title for such a page, you never know what you'll stumble upon.
So here we are, near the end of third post that may or may not do anything for you dear reader and I still feel the urge to continue rambling, as there are a few other subjects that I wish to comment on in response to posts that are a week old. That's the one thing I dislike about having visitors for an extended period of time, the fact that I don't feel I have time for thoughtful responses when someone requests it, or says something I have opinions on.
And by the by, thanks for checking in to see how the well is doing and where the trail has gone, sometimes it grows dim and the trees have to much dead wood on them. But eventually there is sustenance and I can continue my foraging with a bit more vigor.
posted by iSirkus @ 10:44 PM
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