Why the long wait? I wanted to make sure that I was inviting my friends and interested strangers to something worth their while. To meet that threshold, I needed to find subjects and ideas that were worth my while to write about them consistently. At the same time, I hoped to develop a way of approaching serious issues and significant moments without letting myself become too heavy, dull, or both.
My favorite novelist, Italo Calvino, dealt with a similar problem as a young writer:
When I began my career, the categorical imperative of every young writer was to represent his own time. Full of good intentions, I tried to identify myself with the ruthless energies propelling the events of our century, both collective and individual. I tried to find some harmony between the adventurous, picaresque inner rhythm that prompted me to write and the frantic spectacle of the world, sometimes dramatic and sometimes grotesque. Soon I became aware that between the facts of life that should have been my raw materials and the quick light touch I wanted for my writing, there was a gulf that cost me increasing effort to cross. Maybe I was only then becoming aware of the weight, the inertia, the opacity of the world -- qualities that stick to writing from the start, unless one finds some way of evading them.
He goes on in his essay "Lightness" to champion writing with a light touch, with agility, to countenance the weight of the world. That's my rough summary. You can find that essay among his Six Memos for the Next Millenium, which he composed for the 1985-86 Charles Eliot Norton Lectures at Harvard University. Before Calvino could deliver them, he died suddenly.
It is hard to write the things of this world, sometimes harder to write about one's own life. The word petrify doesn't seem out of place, both in striking fear into your soul (can I really do this?), and silencing you with weight (will I ever read this?). I've been told that I write well, but I don't know if that's true. However, it's also true I have few other talents. So why don't we get this party started?
Hello, my name is Philip. I grew up in Orange County. I live in Irvine, which promises to be the setting of many amusing stories. Often, I'll write about current events, from the tragedy in Madrid to this year's elections to the infant formula lobby. News can get too heavy to write or even think about. Sometimes I'll talk about favorite music or my adventures in mediation. And once in a while, I'll reflect on a life well lived. I hope such a life can be mine.
Please, add your thoughts in the comments section. Make suggestions, requests, and of course, comments. This journal, like my writing, my career, and my life, is a work in progress. Unlike certain leaders of the free world, I am quite glad to recognize certain aspects of life as team work. Wrote Emily Dickinson,
A sepal, petal and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn-
A flask of Dew-a Bee or two-
A Breeze-a caper in the trees-
And I'm a Rose!
No comments:
Post a Comment