Month: May 2019

We throw the digital whip at ourselves,
every day, hour, minute and second.
At the far end we act as silenced servants,
forced to adapt and obey.
No channel available
to find our voice,
nor space to live,
silent enough to allow a presence.

A few meters ahead, I see a significant set of hurdles along my writing path.

At this moment, I am engaged in a new short story of about four pages. I am determined to continue this story. It is easy for me to deliver written words. Me continuing the story is another cup of tea.

I seem to provide myself at least a million paths of distraction. Thinking out this status report and delivering it to you is just one of them. Longing for an old-time red mechanical typewriter is another. I mean one of those rare units having no connection to the Internet nor to electricity.

The fact that I deliver words easily, is another and major distractive element. Often, I slide off into other writing challenges. I even read and listen to any of these numerous suggestions of ”how-to-do-it”. I have to sharpen up! I must do it now and down to my very roots! Dear Alter Ego: “Avoid trying to be funny and continue writing this. Avoid using your creativity in distracting yourself.”

Today, I had an intense chat
With a friend living not too far away
We use the net at our advantage.

We spoke about something
of key importance to us.
I forgot what it was.

I got far more than I gave
For once it was all right.
I´ll pay back some other time.

Anonymity worked to our advantage.
We were able to withdraw
at any moment of our choice,
avoiding vulnerability if needed.

Awakening
Flat on the stomach,
far out on a field,
recently ploughed
It is dark.

See nothing
Know nothing
Why here?
Only cold wet clay
at a naked chin.

Slowly raising the head
Allow the eyes to see
over the nearby ridge of soil.
Do not see anything,
nothing what so ever.

Detecting slowly
Field disappearing into darkness

Far away
the edge of a forest
Black silhouettes of pine
hardly discernible
from a dark blue sky.
Soon night will enfold us.

To me, the issue of being a creative individual must have something to do with sensing a void inside your soul. Specifically for me i is about allowing me to sense it. But, I tend to use a series of strategies to assure I avoid staying near to this void.
One strategy is to assure I always have things to do. Ways to get there is to pick up what I had done before or followed what others do. I assume diffuse emotions show up in me when I am near to such a void. My impulse is to void the feelings and I use whatever I can to escape. What I use is not essential as long as it has the effect of silencing those feelings. The aim and consequences of my actions have no other meaning.
People have described me as creative, but I doubt their judgments. They seem to base their decisions on the number of ideas I produce. Or thoughts, associations, and reflections. The ideas do give me some limited joy, but they do not add up. I feel staying at a standstill. And that is the core of my present problem in writing.
This way, an new idea arises. How about exposing myself and my flow of ideas to some rules and regulations? To make my ideas and thoughts operating I will need to learn to work against a distinct frame. A first step will be to set up that frame and train me in respecting it.
Otherwise, the outcome of my flow of ideas will strangle me by distraction. Eventually, my creativity will dry up.

Göran

He rents a flat in central Stockholm and loves to sit down and write. For most of his lifetime, he did not write much. Only when those financing his work demanded. This occurred once a year. He wrote when he needed to report result. A couple of times each year he needed to apply for money. That pushed him to write some more. In general he wrote technical stuff using a descriptive language avoiding individuality and speculations.
After a large number of years in that bin, he felt there was something essential missing. He could not define what it was and began to look for it. He abandoned that container and whatever identity he managed to build using those tools.
While in this new bin, he searched his income as a ghostwriter and dialogue coach. He managed. Although selling himself was not his cup of tea. Present container, number four, he names retirement. He wants to let himself go in writing prose and poetry.
But, he experience handicaps when using words. Too many years in an academic and technical environment have had a severe impact. For him, the writing quality called ”show don’t tell” was a significant hurdle.

This morning he avoided his usual working place. He suspected that a specific environment might have an effect on how he wrote. At his ”office desk” he tended to do office work, that is to administrate, edit and correct. In short, an early version of his personality takes over and assure being in control. Working with a keyboard and a computer display does influence him in the same direction.
He was lucky having found a more playful part of himself writing elsewhere. It happened at another place and with another set of tools. Sitting sipping a cup of coffee at a coffee shop did do the job. He loved writing in an inexpensive spiral notebook. But, he always used his expensive fountain pen and black ink.
At the present moment, he stays in bed. He had never used this location when writing. What sorts of writing will emerge?