One must make a distinction however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry, nor till the autocrats among us can be “literalists of the imagination”—above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, imaginary gardens with real toads in them, shall we have it.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Life, Love and the Pursuit of a Really Profound Thought
Toaaadddddsssss!!!!!! Herotomost here. I have to start by apologizing for being a ghost lately, but at work our busy time is the summer months and ours started early and has been exceptionally hectic. So in trying to get my chops flowing again, I am offering you this Friday Challenge in an attempt to reacquaint myself with all the lovely Toads in hopes that I have not been long forgotten and shelved for hipper and trendier new writers that make my writing look like so much swill. So here it goes.....
What is it that we try to do when we create? We paint suffering, write love, sing joy. We condense experience and become armchair philosophers crooning life's experiences to all who will listen and to an extent, its cathartic to the artist in a very personal way.
While that catharsis is a beautiful thing, it seems to me that an even more potent outcome of our art is when our personal triumphs and tribulations hit home with the reader in a way that changes them. A word, turn of phrase, a lilt, a rhythm. A vision of something that stirs a memory, stacks nostalgia mountain high or mines the depths of sorrows trench, two shovels are better than one when the heart is concerned.
I was thinking about the way something so simple as a shared experience or a similarity can change someone's outlook to the point that a morning drive can be made bearable or even an entire life changed because of a new perspective and a feeling that you are not alone in your pain or joy. That light bulb turning on because someone sees things a bit more clearly than you do at any particular moment.
Ok, long intro to my point....but, I was watching reruns of Northern Exposure the other day, I had forgotten how much I missed that show. I would pay a subscription to have a radio station that would play me Chris in the Morning on my drive to work. The bits of history, poetry, philosophy, community that he imparted at the beginning of each episode always kept me coming back. KBHR and that show where the reason when I worked from my house, I never made any appointments between 10:00 and 11:00 am, that was my happy time. That radio show reminds me of our little community of writers and artists. I can't count the times that I have found purchase with the words of all of my friends in the Garden. I have had bad days turned good, I have been filled with crushing empathy, I have rejoiced in good fortune and shared a some steamy and romantic thoughts with you all. We are in essence philosophers and counselors to each other lifting and supporting at every turn. When you take breaks like I often do, I find a bit of hole in who I am and a need to get my feet back on the ground.
So today's challenge is this. I want you to pretend you are Chris in the Morning and write a bit of personal philosophy that you would like to impart to your friends. Something you have been thinking about and strikes a chord with you and may resonate with others as well. Tell me about something that fills you up, turns you on, something that makes you think. You can put it in a poem, a story, an essay...you know I have no preference when it comes to format, just get me thinking about what you are thinking about. Give me a philosophical jag from hell, or just a thought for the day, doesn't matter, just let us chew on a little piece of your soul.
This may seem like it leaves a lot of room for interpretation...and you are right, but it is a starting point and not a one of you has ever let me down! Give me one really profound thought to carry me through my weekend trip to San Diego and I will as always, be forever grateful!