...eschewing the blog. This is part of the profession: those moments where one says, "I'm tired of examining my own experience." That's what writers do, in one way or another: one must be open, curious, willing to look at what's there, committed to the impulse to observe and reflect -- with the additional commitment to do so with style on the page, trusting that others might find it interesting. How that works out doesn't always butter other people's turnips, as Philip Larkin liked to say. At the moment I'm weary of the vulnerability and turning to private life. For now.
4 comments:
Macy, Macy, Macy.
Sounds like your "down." Don't be. If I want to be "down" I have my own life.
Your "observations" are always appreciated if not always acknowledged.
Secondly, "down" often morphs to "depression" to "anger" to "hostility" and ultimately, to "bitter."
I'm the only one around that gets to use "b" descriptor.
Should read "....use the "b" descriptor."
I'm not bitter about my failure to use "preview."
Dear Macy -- I think I understand some of your feelings borne in the classical writer's dilemma, which has something to do with laying out a part of your soul for comment, then receiving little by way of feedback. I also have appreciated your entries of late, especially the more introspective and reflective ones such as hymn playing on an old family piano, or youthful adventures with friends from days gone by...
But there's something soul-stripping about that kind of writing, especially, that causes artists to have to retreat and rebuild strength-- those periodic retreats being a necessary component of art, creativity, and even survival.
One of my favorite lifetime artists, Neil Young, is a classic example of the battle between the body and the creative spirit. In the end, the body always loses of course, but if you've been living right, the Spirit always wins!
Hey:
Come back asap.
I miss you!
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