About a month ago I attended something my church does on a regular basis called Open Studio. Here artists of all types can come and practice their craft and collaborate with fellow artists. Once there I realized that I had a very hard time relating to the artistic types present--those free to express themselves through unfamiliar mediums. Someone was drumming who had never held a stick; someone was painting who had never held a brush. This concept was foreign and scary to me, but in the spirit of things I pulled out my moleskine and began to write. This liberating expression was the result.
"I'm Missing The Point"
Tat. Beat. Smash. Miss.
Crash. Tat. Beat. Nonsense.
You flail like a child. You care like a child.
What I (boom boom tat). What I think does not matter to you.
Your tempo is deviant. You skipped a beat.
I'm missing the point.
Color. Color in my mind. Color in abstract expression.
Blue, teal, brown, black. These are not art.
From your mind, out your hand, dipped in true color, you express your thoughts that words fail to represent.
Anger, fear, calm, bliss. A beautiful afternoon.
I am limited. You are free.
My words fail.
I must be right. It must be flawless.
In silent corners where no one sees--for goodness' sake they'd better not hear--there I will compose for you a symphony.
It will have major and minor. It will follow the rules. It will be right.
You will tell me I'm missing the point.
"What do you feel? How do you feel?"
Beige. Diminished. Almost there. Wide-brush.
No. Minor four. A reddish green--ugh. That's brown.
Are you sure? Is everyone equipped for this?
Oh don't read this. It's wrong. I really shouldn't have written it. Tear it out if you find it.
The best thing you could do right now is forget about it and really never bring it up because I just exposed something silly and I think I'm safer just reading a book or something.
Or composing my silent symphony. Just don't tell anyone.
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Getting Out By Diving In
Everything in me wants to stop writing. "Give me time. Let me think, let me edit." I know that, given a day or two, I could present you thoughts and feelings that would reflect someone a little more clearheaded and articulate. They would be crafted to show a down-to-earth individual of whom it could be said, "He is sensible and well thought-out."
Yeah, but anyone given 48 hours to present on a topic would be expected of as much. In the end what was written would represent thirty percent of the person's true thoughts and seventy percent of what the individual believed his audience wanted to hear.
Take a look at this counterexample to my point. Here is a journalist who wrote his honest opinion about the 2010 Electronic Entertainment Expo without regard for his audience. The author spent three days at the expo, took a day off, and then wrote his article. (As far as modern journalism goes, that's as much objective distance as you're allowed before your topic has become passe.) Through sitting in those showrooms, and I'm sure he did a little online reading of his own as well, he must have known his audience. Now, if you have not already done so, read the comments beneath the article. Poor Chris--he got lambasted for writing an article which did not appeal to his audience. Original thinking be damned.
I got off topic, but pressing on will actually help to make my point. I am paralyzed by the thought of writing something which might not appeal to you. You, of course, are rather ambiguous, and that's the real issue here. As soon as I begin writing to you, I remember that you might read this too. And then there's you, and the thought of you reading anything I write makes me feel a little sick inside.
To put this more negatively (and accurately), I am a people pleaser. I feel like I just made my initial introduction at an AA meeting.
The purpose of this blog is to share. I want to share my thoughts. I have two hopeful outcomes for this: 1) I need to learn to be honest. In my attempts to hide my true thoughts and feelings I have done you as much of a disservice as I have done myself. 2) I want to know what I think. I have kept this up so long and so determinedly that there are many areas in which I have not allowed myself time to stop and ask, "How do I feel about this?" So, that's why I'm here.
Future posts will not be so self-deprecating and awkward. Except maybe the next one. If the operation goes as planned, this will be your average journal/blog about my daily life and musings. But this is unfamiliar territory for me, so I really shouldn't be making any promises :)
Yeah, but anyone given 48 hours to present on a topic would be expected of as much. In the end what was written would represent thirty percent of the person's true thoughts and seventy percent of what the individual believed his audience wanted to hear.
Take a look at this counterexample to my point. Here is a journalist who wrote his honest opinion about the 2010 Electronic Entertainment Expo without regard for his audience. The author spent three days at the expo, took a day off, and then wrote his article. (As far as modern journalism goes, that's as much objective distance as you're allowed before your topic has become passe.) Through sitting in those showrooms, and I'm sure he did a little online reading of his own as well, he must have known his audience. Now, if you have not already done so, read the comments beneath the article. Poor Chris--he got lambasted for writing an article which did not appeal to his audience. Original thinking be damned.
I got off topic, but pressing on will actually help to make my point. I am paralyzed by the thought of writing something which might not appeal to you. You, of course, are rather ambiguous, and that's the real issue here. As soon as I begin writing to you, I remember that you might read this too. And then there's you, and the thought of you reading anything I write makes me feel a little sick inside.
To put this more negatively (and accurately), I am a people pleaser. I feel like I just made my initial introduction at an AA meeting.
The purpose of this blog is to share. I want to share my thoughts. I have two hopeful outcomes for this: 1) I need to learn to be honest. In my attempts to hide my true thoughts and feelings I have done you as much of a disservice as I have done myself. 2) I want to know what I think. I have kept this up so long and so determinedly that there are many areas in which I have not allowed myself time to stop and ask, "How do I feel about this?" So, that's why I'm here.
Future posts will not be so self-deprecating and awkward. Except maybe the next one. If the operation goes as planned, this will be your average journal/blog about my daily life and musings. But this is unfamiliar territory for me, so I really shouldn't be making any promises :)
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