There will be a day when we reminisce:
We were artists, wearing black
Creating originals, creating anew, even stylishly so.
We will pause for our probable glory
Between the licking of chicken juice from fingers; and think,
“We are the new Gogol and Satre!”
Then one of us will say something psuedo-profound,
Perhaps he will begin to choke and maybe die,
the other will be too afraid, too egocentric to give a pat on the back.
--Another pseudo-artist will be buried in an unpublished grave.
It was far more important to wear Banana Republic,
than to write about it.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Just a thought.
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18 comments:
Oh, I hope this won't be true.
Thanks about the fluency. I hope I can get there, but I still have a long ways to go. I understand the nuances, because I care about them. I see where you are going with the virgin actors, and I agree with it in the sense that we have to be able as writers/poets to imagine the world as it comes in the moment. As far as classic, I'm defintely classically trained. Everything I've learned came by reading and teaching myself. I grew up on a farm and was reading Dostoyevsky at 15. I feel the Romantic Poets ruined writing for us thereafter, because they subscribe to "originality." There is no originality, only a unique perspective on the world. I believe there is no such thing! Look at Shakespeare and others before him. It bothers me that so many young writers are taught in this vain of thinking: originality. Shit on it, as far as I'm concerned! Me, i realize that all I have learned and write comes from some great thinker, wherther he/she is from a western tradition or not. So yes! I do belive that all genre is an ongoing compilation! Great question! thanks for the comment.
Wow...someone else in Blogland mentioned Satre (whom I kinda worship) besides me!
I really need to come here more often.
Hmmm. Generally the artists who are buried in unmarked graves are the ones who are remembered. Think of Mozart!
It's ironic that artists are often so well verses in soulfulness and so weak in compassionate action.
blogging is my way of staying above the grave.
oooo.... well written; potent point
I just noticed your line about artists wearing black. Now that is a true statement!
I like your style and boldness
Like a contest - u never win ~
Currrently reading "Zanesville" for some twisted imaginative substance.
If they reminisces about being artists, why are they no longer artists? Would artists abandon their passion? Would artists discard part of themselves?
AAAAggggg, this hurt my heart, powerful, sad, messed up…but damned good writing. xxx, Lori
THG- I am just learning that originality is a myth, that new thought grow on old, whether it admits it or not.
I'm also learning that obfuscation doesn't equal originality. I may know the deep meaning of something I write, but if no one else does, then what is it worth?
To find a voice which is yours, and to grow roots down into the past, then an original force will develop.
Sorry guys,
Out of town and don't have my Powerbook with me. In repsonse to some of the comments:
Thanks you for all of the comments on this one. Seems I hit something here. I wrote this as kinda of a response to a lot of people who talk about all the great things they are going to write,(including me in the past), but never write. After listening to my "next great play" idea, my mentor/professor told "Lane, quit being a fucking dilettante, and just write the fucking play already!" After that, I learned to sit and write a rough draft before I even talked about it. And you know what? It works! Before, I would lose my story by talking it out and listening to feedback that creeped into my work. Now, I have a strong voice and when people giv eme feedback, it's on something that is finished and it helps me further. I learned right then and there, that it's easy to talk about a project, and most times when we talk, we're talking the creativity out of ourselves. So basically I wrote this from being at a party and listening to two poeple talk about the great projects that will change the world. My repsonse to them: "Then write it! Until then, Shut the fuck up!" Should I change my blog to "The Angry Writer" :)
Hey, you okay, pal?
I just read you were out of town. Where did you go? I thought that maybe you were sick. Everyone here has the stomach flu.
I've been back to read this twice now and twice I've been pulled away. There's a lightness to this one that draws me to it. Perhaps it is your sardonic sense of humor behind the curtain. I very much enjoyed reading your comments as well. The understanding that too much talking will out talk a story is one that some people never learn.
Sometimes I talk about stories so I won't have to write them. :)
Liz
I've been waiting to see if one could summarize and respond to your humor therein the writing!
Yea! And Amen to often talking about an issue til it is dead - action brings the Life.
This poem speaks very directly to me.
Didos. It is only when one is gone, that his value is recognized... to at least achieve that, I would be happy, but at least that.
To be burried as you say, forgotten, now that would just be too sad.
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