A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Seventy

I pushed myself to write some more diverse poems this evening, to take what I have been working towards in new directions.  I want to be able to keep digging deeper, but while pushing into areas beyond the same set of ideas.  It is easy to get under the surface of some things, when the feelings there are already heated and raw, but that often has the danger of becoming self-indulgent.  I don't want to write poems that are solely about my wants, or that only look at small problems in my world, and even when I do go in those directions, I hope I can find greater resonance and not just come off as, at best, plaintiff or, more likely, whiny.  At the same time, I recognize the power of allowing myself to explore that kind of work, how it contrasts with a lot of my less personal poetry.  It is about gaining comfort with that vulnerability, and with learning to go deeper into areas that may be uncomfortable or messy.  Tonight, I was able to push the work further in that effort, or it felt that way, at least.  I believe I am finding my way towards a deeper honesty in my writing, and that is, for me, a frightening wonder.  The fear is, I think, a sign I am reaching towards something significant.

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