A Short Catch-Up

Note: After reading through the first two chapters of Annie Dillard's "The Writing Life," I am happy to report that our feelings on creative literature intersect comfortably. I particularly enjoy one of the themes she makes apparent throughout her essays in Chapters 1 & 2; that much of a writer's work is conjured from their own experiences, especially those that occur around the time of writing. I am a jovial victim of this clause, and reading it in someone else's words makes me somewhat cathartic. As such, I wish to spend the day trying to crawl around in my mind and dissect something of use to put on the blog. Enjoy!

Make Your Own Witty Caption
By Mario Zucca

    I've been struggling to develop ideas recently. Writing, in general, has proven hard, although there hasn't necessarily been a lack of creativity in that timeframe. In fact, I'd argue that I have been very creative this past month: I just haven't been able to write it down properly. When Covid had just begun to sweep the globe (and I hate using it as an example), one of the long-term symptoms that struck me as horrific was the report of "brain fog" among patients. Folks who were once spry and active were feeling lethargic and fatigued, and those in positions that required writing acuity found themselves suddenly unable to meet demands. 

Brain fog is not something unique to Covid-19, but as someone who's suffered the ails of this mind cloud in the past (and has gotten sick with Covid twice!), I feel as if I am in a constant state of paranoia—fear of its chokehold on my ability to create. After devoting years of my life to understanding my overall difficulty with writing despite the pleasure I take in it—inconsistency of creation, language choice, a "strange" writing style, etc—it's been very hard to accept some of my limitations. That's part of why I started this blog; it gives me an excuse to speak my mind without judgment or fear of bubbling myself. I definitely have still bubbled myself a little, that's one of the consequences of online communities, but I'm still searching for opportunities to be humbled. 

When you're a 20-year-old nobody with a blog, the very idea of influence becomes an illusion. I do not believe this project is a hail mary or a hidden gem. The time of blogs is mostly past, and if I really wanted to be popular in this business, I probably should have started a decade ago. Sadly, it would have been illegal as a 5th grader, and the fact that I'm getting distracted even while writing this means that I'd probably fail to pull it off. 

Self-Perception Can Become Self-immolation
Art by A. Shipwright (Rare OOC shoutout, this dude's awesome)

But we persevere and push on despite our doubts. Although I recognize my flaws and laugh at my errors, there is a footnote to be made at the end of every page: Even when I struggle, I write. Suffering is a word that is sometimes used, even by myself, but I feel it doesn't fit as well as struggle does. Suffering implies an amount of contempt, that one would be better off without trying. When I write, I do so to explore, learn and feel. It is a struggle, but there is nothing sufferable about it. 

This is more of a rant than a "normal" blog post, but at the very least it means I'm writing. The hope is that this will inspire me to start putting things up again, whether that be content or just other ramblings. I think I'm going to write about something a tad more appropriate soon. 

Stay Tuned.