Monday 9 February 2015

Drawing Upon Blank

I've come to write, without any idea of what I've come to write about. Perhaps the dilemma might be alleviated by letting go of the assumption that I can only write when I know about that which I write. What if I don't actually "know" anything? What then would fill the page? If I reduce or eliminate that which I have been told by someone else, but never really have investigated for myself, in other words societal conventions, assumptions that are considered "common sense"; or the use of what I have previously experienced as being "what I know" in which case nothing "new" is necessarily being shared - it's based on presumptions that what I experienced is what I would always experience and that what I was told is "true."

As I sit in the coffee shop where I am currently writing the in house stereo is playing various artists "covering" Leonard Cohen songs - if I were to dwell on this too completely I might conclude - I could continue to write the rest of my life and never achieve what he has with the written word. But in truth, I'm not here to do that - at least presently, I'm here to achieve (convey) with the written word the best that comes from me or through me. Even if I sing his lyrics I don't bring what he does, to the, or with the, songs. I express something of me through the performance of his music. As with other artists work, at times the lyrics resonate for me in some way, or I embrace a familiarity with the song which affords an enjoyment which I then love to share. I suppose then that each street corner rendition of mine is unlike any other - there is no "take two" so it is what it is - when it is, until it is again...

One can't really "perform" someone's previously released written work, for one thing it is deemed as plagiarism - beyond that, what would be the point?

Perhaps the lines blur when I consider the idea of "making a name for oneself" & using that as a criteria for validation. It's certainly not required for example, in order to write - in this case all I need do is write. It might be more pertinent if there were to be an inordinate focus on the writing being read at play. But then as I am learning through busking - would the muscle of conviction be exercised if what I am doing is completely dependent on outside approval? There is a refinement in the doing that can never occur embracing instead, concern, that I lack the expertise to begin. Having said that there must be present something beyond mild amusement to continue to take an endeavour onward.

The most impactful thing that ever comes from my keyboard could be the first thing I write, or the last - I have no idea, it's probably not for me to decide, the call is to write, not 24/7, but certainly it comprises some of what I'm here to do. If I stop for any appreciable period of time and "question" what I'm supposed to be doing with my life - I actually start finding pens and/or blank journal type books while I'm out and about & I don't mean going to a stationary store, they show up on the road side, with frequency that gets my attention.

I suppose what I'm getting at is what a vast arid wasteland the pretense of "knowing"can potentially create for the soul - while the mind is appeased, or at least that part which is hell-bent on survival. How quickly life can take on then,  the shape of the aphorism "been there, done that." The root of that would seem to me to be like: completing one colouring book cover to cover then going out and buying the identical book and expecting a different experience by now using a different box of crayons. The form is the same - one can't create newly utilizing the same paradigm. Nothing new can occur within the confines of what was. If the colouring book was of Disney characters and page three is Donald Duck it doesn't matter how many copies of that book you buy and what colours you select for the character on page three - it's still Donald duck. Now if you accquired a book full of blank pages - page three could be created newly each and everytime, unless of course you felt compelled to draw Donald duck on the blank page.

I'm not trying to revolutionize colouring as much as I'm pointing to what is at least for me the futility of rigid unchanging forms, while at the same time acknowledging an entirely formless existence without any direction is not particularly comfortable either. What I really am not sure of is, if that is due to any innate need to be "doing something productive" or whether the angst is entirely the result of inactivity bumping up against the programming that judges people by what they do - which I then turn upon myself. Life itself seeks expression - and while new galaxies are apparently continuing to be created on infinitum - the diversity of life on planet earth is continually subject to forces of conformity. In truth I can't say that "colonizing" other planets won't forward human evolution - I can't see how it would yield any new results if it isn't undertaken with a new consciousness, by which I mean by those that undertook the project, not just that the technology was achieved to make it possible.

Apparently those that have participated in previous "space programs" have reported a profound change, that the experience was for them transformational. Is it necessary for everyone to go to space to achieve "transformation" - I would say yes and no. It would seem it was necessary for those individuals, they made the voyage and were forever changed - would they have had life changing experiences if they chose an alternative path? Quite possibly - but by all accounts they were called to do what they did and I suppose their contribution would take another form. And maybe even though the conclusions they draw about the interconnectivity of life on the planet and the planet within the solar system and the solar system with the galaxy etc. have been realized by spiritual adherents and medicine people that "appeared" to never leave the planet long before these astronauts were born, never mind made the journey - these space voyages needed to  happen to spread that awareness into as many front rooms via television as possible, potentially raising credibility beyond that which might have been afforded to someone that spent seventy-five years in a cave.

Either way their transformation is both personal and a contribution to the overall mosaic. Others have a different journey to undertake and whatever brings about their evolution and transformation is a contribution as well. There is no competition as to what makes a more valuable contribution. Many people seem to have these known trajectories from an early age, many others find themselves in unchartered and unimagined territory, the result of one or a series, of major life events that become the catalyst to becoming spiritual frontiers in their own life, which most certainly won't forever operate in a vaccum,  sooner or later it's going to impact others.

What a blessing I find myself in the midst of - today I had the time, the means and a blank screen inviting my contribution. No editor, no publisher, no censor (well that's not entirely true - there is of course the mind I asked to step out of the way in the opening paragraph) - so then relative freedom. I say that when I consider by comparison a "free-lance" writing opportunity I explored at one time - the assignment (had I chose to accept it) was to research a half dozen different barbeques and then write a "review" outlining the virtues of the one company that was offering this contract, stipulating why theirs was the best. Not my idea of writing, oh sure the end result would be delivered in the form of writing, but that would be about where it ended. Essentially I would have to lie my face off in order to do this. First of all I don't care about barbeques, second there was very little to distinguish any one of the models in the various categories as been clearly superior. From my perspective, any one of them would likely be scrap metal in about five years. I would be more inclined to either say you can save yourself a great deal of hassle and just cook on the stove or in the oven you have inside your house. Either that or forget it - you don't need one! Clearly my need for personal integrity would preclude any semblance of satisfying what the outfit looking for the "writer" was expecting - consequently, no remuneration.  That's not writing - that's dictation - "oh sure you can use your creativity as long as it says what we want it to say." No thanks - next!!

Who's to say what written expression will go on to create a spark of inspiration in the next person. I certainly have experienced having shared something of myself in a group of people and during and after believing nothing I said made any sense and judged it as one of my more incoherent utterances, only to be met by someone when the gathering was over, that is thanking me profusely for what I said - "how much it helped them" gain clarity about something in their life and yet I no longer even know what I said.

I guess I wonder at what point will form and structure stifle free expression to such an extent that the true gold doesn't get past the editing process? What is trying to be said is lost to the expectations of they who have commissioned the work or in over concern for the sensibilities of who might read it.

So to conclude - what we have here is either a whole lot, to say not much of anything or maybe an example of stopping at nothing to say something! It's also an example of glorious paradox in that I can recall in my "young life" being advised that it was pointless "making something out of nothing" while today - as for everyday I choose to write, that exactly the objective!


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