Today's Musing Column (feedback/comments welcomed .. scroll to bottom of page for feedback form):
THE ULTIMATE Mark’s Musing Saturday Aug 1, 2009 today’s Musingwritten and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park Morning walk report: 18C/64F, sunny, calm . . Gusta dripping dew from tall grass, couples walking, squirrels teasing and taunting her.
This holiday weekend has begun –as expected, mine will fill with work and play, my hand will touch many things and many things will touch my word machinery - like tickling piano keys to coax out a tune . . some folks stay home, some venture a long way.
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” T.S. Eliot
Writing, and writers, do not take weekends off – though we might pause from putting pen on paper, this shallow exercise must at least take on the appearance of depth which requires two key ingredients – having experience, and having time to think about experiences, whether we had them or not.
Writing, the ultimate freedom – it frees the spirit, it’s free and it spells freedom. It feels totally free …. until comes the time to show it to anyone else; then that freedom is mitigated by the editing wand of structure and containment, erasure of description that does not hide feeling, making a thin veil shroud to house truths - which separates reality from fantastic unreality.
Writing, the ultimate prison – it holds us prisoner within our boundaries, venturing out on day-passes some times, but we always return to the confines of familiar borders.
While the world is charging for everything we do, everything we get, the language charges nothing for a word – imposes no sentence for paragraph theft or page-plagiarism, especially if the words are our own; thought, on the other hand, can be borrowed from anyone anytime . .
Thoughts, plunged into a pail of words, come up dripping in metaphor and nuance with modifiers dangling behind, covered in letter barnacles with no place to go . . characters in search of a backbone, a structure . . syllables stranded between-hyphens, blocked by brackets and help up by parentheses.
Writing, the ultimate disease – it is like a consuming sickness that takes us daily, not to the bed, but to the keyboard.
Writing, the ultimate cure – whatever ails us, it cures all, whatever wounds us – it heals us up.
Whatever disease of life befalls our characters, we can always write them out or just ‘right them’ in the next scene, transform them in the next chapter and rehabilitate all that is wrong before the final page of the final chapter that ends, which ends, with THE END.
Thoughts are not the canvas, they are my paints, and they cover me which makes me difficult to read until I pour them into word molds and set their type . . .
Mark Kolke 320,684
196.2
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Responses / comments from yesterday:
July 31 Responses
July 31 - RIGHT THROUGH SUMMER - Enjoyed your lilting muse today. Nice tempo, nice flow of ideas. It was a song to me that said how sweet it is to live in a place where it is summer all year long, LP, Wailuku, HI
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How does the stock market work? Would a search by CUSIP or some marriage compatibility test or today’s leo love horoscope bring joy?Writing and posing fun questions to get to know someone, me, works. Not every day, but over time it works.
