Daily Writing Practice
A trip to the beach over the weekend, and the Spring weather that's taken over here in Cambridge, has awakened my creative spirit, and I'm back in the mode of writing, photographing, thinking, making, doing.... A bit of a manic phase, perhaps. Whatever exactly triggered it, and whatever exactly will come of it, who knows?
One thing that's happened already: I decided to return to the practice of writing, every day. In 2005, I was at my most prolific ever, in terms of my personal writing, when I took the "Round Robin" class at The Writing Salon in San Francisco. Some of my long-time readers might remember that I posted a fair number of these "daily writes" to my Typepad blog (beginning in Oct 2005 -- you can check out the archives if you like). And so, I'm going to do that again. I've allied with a long-distance friend of mine, as writing partners, and we're doing 10-minute writes, every day... the same formula that was applied in the Round Robin. I'm going to push myself to post as many of them here as I can, although as with any writing, and in particular with writing that's not been polished and edited to death, it's hard to put it out there for all to see... it certainly makes me feel very vulnerable. And yet, I'm writing because ultimately I want people to read it! To that end, here's tonight's "write," which was... a struggle. The prompt was, "Write about flying:"
"I know why the caged bird sings," goes the poem... crying out for the ability to stretch its wings and fly. And so, many of us do this, every day. We sing through our art, our music, our work, our reaching out for connection to others. We sing through our writing. We try to break free of the bonds of self-doubt, of hardship, of fear, of boredom. Pushing oneself against these barriers, and giving, creating, risking... the sensation probably isn't entirely unlike flying. It feels dangerous, dizzying, and just a bit out of control. Much safer to tuck in our wings, and sit quietly alone, perched atop the walls we've spent our lives building.
Ugh. And right now, I'm feeling like what I just wrote is utter crap. I struggled to get started with this "write," and am mightily fighting my way through it, holding myself back at every impulse. Each key press is over-thought, and that feeling of flying through the creative process... the crazy wave that I sometimes ride when I've relaxed all of the internal editing and criticism... it's completely unattainable tonight.
I know it's out there though. I've flown before, and will do it again. That's what this process is all about. Stretching my wings often enough so that, every now and then, I get a good soaring high, instead of a painful fall from the comfort of my secluded nest. Unfortunately, tonight's is a bumpy ride down through the tree limbs of self-consciousness and inhibition. And thank god, that's the 10 minute mark, in which this "write" concludes with a resounding thud!
