A recent conversation held on behalf of myself revolved around the somewhat delicate issue of my writing. Being someone of such tenuous and wavering self esteem with regard to creative pursuit I left it up to her, my girlfriend, and him, her brother.
I have oft sought advice on what to do with myself and such conversations generally ignored the reality of my situation, or even my true desries. The notion of failure to me, it appears, is terrifying. The notion of success, equally so. The work involved in bridging the gap between the two extremities of being, the polar opposites of self actualization, appears mysterious, alchemic.
I have never been a go-get-em kinda guy. The fleeting, and minor successes I attribute in some small way to my actions have all but landed in my lap and in the spirit of things I followed through, blissfully lacking expectation, reactionary and noncommital.
Should I wish to enjoy some form of fullfilling life however, the necessity to be one of the proactive people looms large. Louise, ever able to muster up encouragement I cannot create for myself, passed on some snippets of material to her sub-editor brother. He is also a writer, struggling as I, but in possesion of such respect of the medium that a stab at it will not suffice. He will prepare. So must I.
The problem that all writers wrangle with in the beginning, according to Paul, and anyone in the know it would appear, is the search for authenticity. The discovery of the writers own voice. The truth and integrity of a piece, the desired meaning, the loaded sentences all feeding from the authentic core. So I sit, in my boxer shorts and chain smoke, attempting to claw something back. Trying to discern what exactly I intend to do with this. What do I intend to do?
I imagined this blog, and still do, as a place where I would begin to understand what it is I want to say. But for an individual often desribed as inauthentic (indirectly and largely by myself) how am I to claw back a sense of truth that has so often lacked in my life. Can the search for authenticity in itself be worthy of so much attention?
I hope that any who write here dont feel confined to my own limited spectrum, that their own imaginations can let fly and as I discussed with Pat, can find a comfortable place to explore whatever it is they want to. I, for the most part, will be self indulgent and as such I implore you all, stick with me, deep down I'm worth it.
Perhaps my "voice" is that of a petulant child, we shall see.......
3 comments:
well said. i miss chain smoking.
I'm interested in the idea of you, or anyone, being inauthentic. The real self is as much an affectation as the more consciously portrayed pseudo-self. No one is above his circumstances and all are molded by social/civil/societal/familial give-and-take, push-and-pull, do-and-do-not; authenticity is merely the disguise that fools the most people. Micky, when YOU say that other people tell you that you are inauthentic ... well, then you've just said something authentic. Write what's there to be written. Find the voice to be marketable.
I am torn. Writers who write about writing, largely in an academic sence, all detail the struggle with this issue. Il admit, most of them are (in a round about way) criticising other people for being unencumbered by the nueroses they possess. Im nuerotic, so by didactic logic am I therefore an artist??!!! The issue of authenticity is largely an academic one, but this voice, my voice, is still in its formative stages. I find myself "subconciously mirroring the styles of others" and utilizing language in an inauthentic way. I need to read more. I need to write more. thanks guys.
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