Friday, April 7, 2017

I blew past 350 posts...

... and something John McPhee wrote comes to mind, about – paraphrasing now – how the subjects you write about must be of powerful interest to you; they must see you through the process of learning how to write well, or not so poorly you're afraid to share; and I'm afraid of many things; although I feel that energy soften sometimes as I age, before it roars back; after all, we have more things, more people to worry about as we age. Don't we? I believe so, if we live well. And yet we only have a single windshield to look through, truly, as humans, as we go, so our speed and direction, obstacles, traffic, ice, breakdowns, flat tires, thoughts of why my 'car' isn't as expensive as that one, and bugs – summer bug explosions on windshields are worthy of mention, aren't they? No, not if I follow McPhee's advice and write well – and run-on sentences are bad, and staying on message is essential – so every age and moment we look through our one-and-only view, our windshield, can't be that unimportant, consciously or not (we are complex creatures with some pretty persistent Darwinian horsepower, if nothing else); we should keep moving if we're blessed with the means; our future is a kind of structure made of bricks, one for every day before it, mortared and stacked – I've gone from cars to buildings now – so put some design and intentionality in it, right? Oh, what happens when cars drive themselves soon; we won't have to keep eyes forward anymore. So... M 'n' m are my subjects, obviously. I am very, very grateful for them. I express that often. Most importantly, to them. And in the context of this M 'n' m canvas, which kind of has a life of its own now, here and there I drop a note, a jot, a wordy and confusing scribble about sports, music, history, Iowa State, or writing itself. It took me years to learn – though I wander off the path and only every time, albeit happily – that good writing is really about omission. John McPhee: "Writing is selection. Just to start a piece of writing you have to choose one word and only one from more than a million in the language. Now keep going. What is your next word? Your next sentence, paragraph, section, chapter? Your next ball of fact. You select what goes in and you decide what stays out. At base you have only one criterion: If something interests you, it goes in – if not, it stays out. That’s a crude way to assess things, but it’s all you’ve got.... Write on subjects in which you have enough interest on your own to see you through all the stops, starts, hesitations, and other impediments along the way. Ideally, a piece of writing should grow to whatever length is sustained by its selected material – that much and no more." 

Indeed, the "that much and no more" part is unsurprisingly what I struggle with. 350. I never feel comfortable going back to any of them. Thank God a picture speaks a thousand words. Thank God for digital cameras (in our smartphones now and ubiquitous, my life's work to this point it occurs to me). But thank God for creative catharsis, I'll call it; for me it's this. And the music I'm listening to on YouTube right now. Thanks for reading. It's fun to have an audience; incidentally my readership is larger than it's ever been. Did I mention being human?

"Remember, you are a thought machine, everything you see, hear, experience is usable... whatever makes you unique... do it, and know that there's room for you."
     — Steve Martin 

"You could damn yourself with silence but never so effectively as by running your mouth."
     — Michael Chabon, Telegraph Avenue

But I say – fishtailing through life haphazardly, or intentionally haphazardly; sorry, but I've never seen another way, despite some impressive and enviable facades; slapping down those bricks, every day a new one, and it looks good, really, it looks good because everything is art and heart and expression, every step, every slip, every crash; enjoy the ride – do it anyway.

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