A Writer's Notebook, Day Three-Hundred-And-Nine
I feel quite good about my work today. I think that much of what I was considering last night is still working through my writing at the moment, and it seems like it may be taking me to new places. It is really great to feel that I have so much to learn, right now, that I am able to go a far greater distance with the work than I had conceived before.
The thing is, it is, of course, natural, when you learn about a thing and study it for a long while, and especially when you have a talent in that area, to feel that you are at a certain point and wonder, even if only implicitly, how much farther you can go in some ways. That is not to say I didn't feel I could become a better writer, but more that I felt that I had the big stuff in place, that I might have certain limits to the kind of writing I did which it wouldn't be worth pressing. But, then, something clicks, and suddenly I feel that I am in a new space, where there is a lot more to discover and learn.
At the same time, this new arena is one that I wouldn't have been able to access or understand without the things that are already absorbed into my work. If I weren't already practiced in some ways, and aware of what I am doing in general, I couldn't begin thinking about these ideas in a real way. I think it is a bit analogous to the development of technical proficiency that a musician often requires before learning a new technique or piece of music. It is not that the new technique is utterly different, or even that it is really more advanced, but it relies upon the knowledge and ability that are developed through earlier steps. It is a bit like that, but with language, it is much harder to pinpoint the specifics of technique in that same way.
So, today, I did write four new poems, and I feel that they all have a certain quality that is very much new in my work. It may be that it is subtle and others won't see it at first, but it is something very clear to me. For example, I wrote a poem tonight about a clockwork automata, a dancing monkey, and it was sort of straddling the line in some ways with some of my earlier work, but the voice and approach were quite different, far more energetic than a lot of the previous work. It is a very different kind of piece, and the fact that it is about an animal that is not a real animal, but a machine, makes that point as well, in a way, at least it did to me as I was writing the piece. In a sense, I think the choice was symbolic of a shifting sensibility, and was also moving me closer to being able to write some other pieces I have imagined, which take that same sort of approach in very different directions.
I guess that is pretty much the news for the day, as far as that goes. Four new poems, of course. Also, I received some positive feedback on the second chapbook manuscript, which needs to go out in a couple of days. I am quite excited about it, though nervous. I think it is a fine piece of work, and I feel quite proud of it, and that is the most I can do, I suppose. If that is true, the rest is in someone else's hands.
The thing is, it is, of course, natural, when you learn about a thing and study it for a long while, and especially when you have a talent in that area, to feel that you are at a certain point and wonder, even if only implicitly, how much farther you can go in some ways. That is not to say I didn't feel I could become a better writer, but more that I felt that I had the big stuff in place, that I might have certain limits to the kind of writing I did which it wouldn't be worth pressing. But, then, something clicks, and suddenly I feel that I am in a new space, where there is a lot more to discover and learn.
At the same time, this new arena is one that I wouldn't have been able to access or understand without the things that are already absorbed into my work. If I weren't already practiced in some ways, and aware of what I am doing in general, I couldn't begin thinking about these ideas in a real way. I think it is a bit analogous to the development of technical proficiency that a musician often requires before learning a new technique or piece of music. It is not that the new technique is utterly different, or even that it is really more advanced, but it relies upon the knowledge and ability that are developed through earlier steps. It is a bit like that, but with language, it is much harder to pinpoint the specifics of technique in that same way.
So, today, I did write four new poems, and I feel that they all have a certain quality that is very much new in my work. It may be that it is subtle and others won't see it at first, but it is something very clear to me. For example, I wrote a poem tonight about a clockwork automata, a dancing monkey, and it was sort of straddling the line in some ways with some of my earlier work, but the voice and approach were quite different, far more energetic than a lot of the previous work. It is a very different kind of piece, and the fact that it is about an animal that is not a real animal, but a machine, makes that point as well, in a way, at least it did to me as I was writing the piece. In a sense, I think the choice was symbolic of a shifting sensibility, and was also moving me closer to being able to write some other pieces I have imagined, which take that same sort of approach in very different directions.
I guess that is pretty much the news for the day, as far as that goes. Four new poems, of course. Also, I received some positive feedback on the second chapbook manuscript, which needs to go out in a couple of days. I am quite excited about it, though nervous. I think it is a fine piece of work, and I feel quite proud of it, and that is the most I can do, I suppose. If that is true, the rest is in someone else's hands.
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