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a dialogue to understand
"the writer's view" june
18, 1991 11:20 am
 to
write from the whole being the writer can not capture the true
essence of what it is he is trying to communicate. writing is that of
fragments each unto its own universe. the fragments develop in his
mind in order to reach and discover his world, his voice and provide
a path of travel. it is not important to know the absolute direction
of that or those paths he writes to, of, or from. he begins in
darkness, chaos; his emotions, ideas, experiences carry him to a
destination, many times more than not, to an unknown place,
"deep, fathomless, and undefinable." he becomes the inner
and the outer world, turning his voyage inside out, upside down,
sideways and produces whatever it takes to bring his thoughts into
view, his view. the writings are the diggings of archeological
findings that he chooses to invent from the past and the future.
there is, most of the time, no goal, just words that formulate
themselves from his mind and the deepest of self. the deeper he digs,
the fragments become his dream, his faith, his voice. most of the
time dead ends; he fragmentizes so much that confusion takes the
place of reality; and in turn he spends much time thinking and
regrouping the words that appear in front of him. at times he must
separate himself from his writing so that it stands alone and as not
to reflect his own manhood.
failure as a writer is not
necessarily the failure of the man, but time, maturity and discipline
is what makes thoughts vibrant, fertile and riveting. the writer is
the man; the man is the writer, inseparable at times, but to be on
the edge, to face head on the unknown and wrestle with it; both the
man and the writer are placed on hold and faith. it seems apparent
the loss of what one loves so deeply, profusely, and profoundly
permeates his world, forcing him to the boundless horizons of self
expression. expression from what he has loved so, given up, and
separated himself from. he writes from the edges and in turn is the
outsider, looking in, towards the dark of day and night trying to
establish his authenticity, to learn, realize more, make less from
confusion, to articulate, analyze, synthesize all at the same time.
to make time, that seems motionless, move once again and not stand
still, thus making the waves foam as they pound the shores of his
mind. his mind can only attempt to go forward by taking the steps
backward, up, down, sideways, over, under or the progress is not
realized. often, more than not, he writes of what he does not
understand, that in hope,  with
gained knowledge the words and thoughts will become more clear and
define those illusions. sometimes it is the decaying of those
illusions that give them growth/life. it is the dismantling, the
erosion, of those illusions that drive the writer to his maybe
freedom. writing is most definitely not an escape into or out of
reality of everyday life: it is the deeper side of the writer who is
trying to be reborn, renewed, refreshed where the waters are black,
deep cold and numbing in the sterility of the darkness which leads to
his freedom. it is at times, again more than not, awkward, the
paralyzing fear of being tongue-tied, naked, unsheltered and bare
boned that handicaps him with apprehensiveness in waters of strong
current where life preservers are non-existent. his words are daring;
for if not, why proceed...his mysteriousness is what keeps him alive,
not talent, not technique, not education......he creates from with-in
his own daring ; no support, no life-line; writes, he just
does, from his dreams, frustrations, desires and gut reactions
surrounded by fields of anxiety.
"create" june 17, 1991 8:45pm
creativity or perhaps more
profound-"creative individualism"-is a search; directed,
exaggerated, fabricated; the emancipation of self and its awareness,
authority, controls, limits narrowness and society's restraints. it
is intellectual pushing, shoving, jumping in the middle, to reach
one's own beyonds and yet still further reach for the unknown edge.
to be on the edge, to make one's own reality, to exhaust every
possible avenue of expression, means, goals, to challenge the pure
essence of life and yes even death. it is "the death of the
self" that forwards and promotes onwardness, forwardness, the
invention of the new world, its meanings and its beyonds. each word
becomes death and dies so the following one can live and develop its
own meaning of individualism. it is the making of a new horizon,
boundless territory, virgin bloodless ground that is sought. it is to
ignite the mere soul, to burn from within, to capture life itself and
then to release it, dismantle the birdcage and allow the full beauty
in the freedom of flight. it is to make dreams creamy, mellow yellow
or to walk on hot scorching coals that scar the already scarred
tissue of desire, passion...to wrestle with obscurity, to tangle with
opposites, to define a new alphabet, escape the ordinary, redefine
the forevers of tomorrow, bring to life a meaning that has never yet
been felt and triumph from it, to be the magician---preform the
magic---be the warrior and escape and evade death itself and bring
the mind to that of the rainbow, multicolored and endless. it is the
creativity that seems effortless, the perfection of illusion that is
what it is all for and about. the simpler the better....less is
more...more is too complicated and far less. the fact remains that
the most simplest form is the most difficult to achieve and in order
to attain freedom, discipline is a severe ingredient, no matter what
we are taught. the fuel that feeds creativity is profound and sheer
heart ache, brick by brick, layer upon layer; it is failure that is
what success is built on. the restlessness of the heart, its
loves, passions, desires and friendships alone make the process
take fold. to kiss the lips of death "herself" is the ache,
the pain and the tearing of the flesh loved heart. profound beyond
"profound love" is most definitely pivotal/essential. it is
the imperfection of that love, that is so dishearteningly dampened
and the struggle to secure it becomes a battle of a life time. to
define love is like to define death; there are no perimeters: only
the aches of heart beats that center themselves in the manifestation
of the creative process. to love, is to surrender; full surrender is
the acceptance of suffering, defeat, pain and failure. it needs to be
viewed not as "negative or depressive," but observed as
being "positive"....dealing, handling, using the process to
fuel the creative appetite....no matter how excruciating. the process
is only achieved through discipline and time....short, long, whatever
the duration; it is time that makes us what we are and thus how we
develop into ourselves as to achieve the voice that feels and
welcomes our words: making us whole, "once more again." if
we stand still, we are motionless and take no risks. risks,
uncertainty and danger, is the question that creativity represents.
it is to act intuitively, not
instinctively, that brings the creative mind to a higher law than
what most are accustomed. that law is "love," which is
tolerance, suffering, and allows all to be as they are.....it is the
true meaning and essence of sacrifice.
creativity is love
love should be creativity
life is art
art is life
art and love is full and total surrender
"balanced man" june 19,
1991 3:00pm
the balanced man takes
whatever is in his stride of equilibrium and measure: consumes only
what he can digest............................................
what about the unbalanced man:
balance is what he can not, consumes each inch around him and measure
is not in his vocabulary; except when inches determine what he must
create and build next. is this man empty of spirit; not religious;
not whole? does he not make the paths of travel for himself; is his
heart the navigator of his being or is he of shallow mind which is
non-illuminated and non-productive? is this man terrified....slipping
away from the light into darkness, from seen to the unseen and is he
a man who does not have war with or within himself? is he the man who
realizes the deeper process of his inward convictions; that truth is
a paradox and that he is a refugee in the world in which he lives?
does his freedom derive from balance, discipline and the illumination
of life's experiences? can he stand alone, be his own healer and not
be horrified, paralyzed or assaulted about his aloneness? is this man
afraid to step out of the "middle ages" and enter and make
known his awareness in the new "age"! does this man
understand crucifixion, what the differences are between it being
understood symbolically, from literally..does he? and does he have
unlimited circulation of his mind, his heart, his life; everything?
and does this man test himself; and from his awareness does he sleep
more soundly; does he get beyond phantasy and dreams once he
awakens.......does he?????
dialogue inspired: henry
miller; "wisdom of the heart" references to; from;
by; e. graham howe
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