Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I've noticed that I've had very little inspiration when it comes to writing for quite some time now. When I go through periods of little or no writing my body literally responds so that I feel a sort of chaotic entropy due to lack of words flowing through me. If this makes any sense at all, when words, ideas and sequences of prose or poetry do floating through my insides I feel a different type of chaos. A heavy weight is carried through the deepest parts of me and I want nothing more then to release all the weight and feel light once again. When it gets to the point where I think it's as unbearable as ever, when I think that I will not be able to go on any second further without some form of release, it all flows. It flows out and everything is released as if it swam out through the fingertips of my hands. All the words, all the thoughts all the images that have been jumbled inside flow out through currents out of the tips of my fingers. They all come out and line themselves up so that I can order them onto lined paper, a scrap of paper, (any writable surface, really) or a blank document on a computer.
But you see, lately there has been no overflow of weight and especially no currents flooding out of my fingertips. There is a very subtle amount of poetry circulating in my head at the moment. I have little desire to devour a piece of paper with words, scribbles, images and whatever else wants to come out.
And this is scary. Terrifying, actually.
You see, for the longest time I knew that I was going to base my life on writing. I just knew it.
And ever since I started college it hit me... I mean it really, really hit me that I don't know if I want to major in creative writing anymore. Writing is my deepest love, my soul mate and the one thing that will never fail to take me to a place where I can be whatever the hell I want to with no restrictions. And when I really think of the careers I would be able to pursue with such degree I feel like they aren't right. I love teaching and so getting a Masters degree or higher in creative writing and then teaching at a university level is more than just a decent job, its one that I was able to see myself doing for the rest of my life. But now I ask myself if I really want that. I feel that if I go in that direction, the way I view writing will forever change. Sure, my capabilities will increase ten fold, I'll be exposed to different styles and the boundaries I live in now will all be diminished... but then writing will have to be something I have to do and maybe not something I want to do.
I'm so incredibly confused at this moment. I mentioned to a friend of mine that for once in my life I have no direction. Ever since I was young enough to dream, there was something I wanted to be when I grew up. Sure, a Spice Girl or Britney Spears aren't the most obtainable futures but at least I was set for a moment's time.
Knowing myself though I probably am just going through this stage because I haven't actually taken any creative writing courses in college yet. I'm hoping that once I do, my love for words will go through a sort of Renaissance.
On the other hand, what I have been having urges for is photography. I've been attached to my Canon Rebel ever since my Dad bought it for me back in June. I've considered studying photography but I know for a fact that I definitely don't want to make it my primary career.
Either way, the whole point of this post is to share some of what I think is my best work (okay so maybe that's not the whole point). I have so much to learn about the way a camera functions, after all virtually everything I know is self-taught.
If you would like to follow more of my future work and hopefully see it grow through the process, visit my flickr.
I really want to begin posting more of my poetry and short stories here. So be expecting some in the near future.