Well, with two full weeks of journaling behind me I thought now would a prime moment to ponder my journaling experience thus far.
For me, writing has always been an astoundingly daunting act. There is something about looking at a blank page that literally causes me to exhibit strange and irrational behavior. At my desk, I may become slightly uncomfortable and will perhaps seek out a more satisfying chair or pillow. Then, there is a pretty good chance I may notice a book out of place on the shelf or a record I forgot to put back into the sleeve. And after I do some sweeping or dishwashing or other household chores a cold beer sounds like just what I need transition from housework back into writing. And so after my third beer is when the distractions begin to really work their magic. As you can see, the act of writing has turned into a fight between myself and...well, my self.
This daily journalling, I think, is slowly helping me overcome these difficulties. I am noticing the language that surrounds me and my life and when I'm not writing I constantly tease out possibilties in my mind and think of different techniques to explore. I feel the pressure is off here in journal land and it feels damn good.
Brian, I really sympathize with a lot of what you've said here. I also find writing creatively to be a bit daunting. I think part of this comes from our culture where the notion of a finished work stands as very highly prized while the act of tinkering with language is underplayed.
ReplyDeleteI also find that monotonous chores and other repetitive tasks help me to generate language...strange language in particular. For instance: I was doing dishes last night and found myself wondering what the water would feel as it ran over my hands. I enjoy, just as I'm sure you do, trying to give a voice to things that traditionally remain voiceless.
Though I know all of this sounds a bit like parroting, but it is kind of nice to relish those strange bits of language that you come across.
One thing I personally enjoy in my journaling is an occasion when the words I have on a page make no logical sense or tie into any coherent idea or plan, but when the words themselves please me for what they are. Almost like savoring a piece of cake or some other delicacy where things don't have to make sense. Thinking about things in these terms has allowed me to downplay this mentality of the "rush to the finish."
I hope that this makes even a modicum of sense though. Hope it helps.