This semester, I’ve been studying American Indian Survivance Discourse. I’ve been studying code-switching and the importance of diversity in voice through minority writing. I’ve been studying transgender literature. Fairy tale literature. LGBQ literature. It’s beautiful.
Most recently, I’ve been studying the poet Adrienne Rich. While all the subjects I put in my head this semester has had an impact on me, to varying degrees, Rich never ceases to explode my thought. Boom. And the kicker is, I studied her seven years ago with similar effect. Her insights are mind-curling, deep and twisting and nearly self-aware. And she made sense, on Thursday, in a way that fit something I’ve been thinking about for a while.
She said that for her to be a truly independent woman writer, she had to stop using men’s sensibilities and styles while writing.
Inception is the type of movie where people walk away scratching their heads. Most people. I watched it when it first came out, enjoyed it for what it was, and moved on. (My brother, on the other hand, wasn’t such a fan.) It’s a “cerebral” thriller where the environment itself tells as much (or more) of the story as the characters. The premise surrounds a man who can extract information from another person’s subconscious via a cocktail of drugs and a carefully constructed “dream.” He brings a “Get Shorty” group of people in with him where they directly talk to the dreamer’s mind and find information, therefore performing an “extraction.” While the possibilities for creative enterprise is boundless, the movie pares all creative deviation to the story at hand, which is great for the masses and thus made for a somewhat accessible movie. While I understand why, the possibilities were literally endless for subject matter.
The content, on the other hand, is not only a throwback to “Weird Fiction” stories from the early 20th century, but also pays direct homage to the writer H.P. Lovecraft via dialogue and imagery. I watched the movie a second time yesterday, and was surprised by the correlation.
This week marks the first time I actively took a break from my 8-630 job to pursue writing. And, as expected, I spent most of that time putzing around, re-reading old works to get caught up to where I COULD write, and essentially removing myself from the world to continue doing what I do worst. Continue reading
The best way to keep word count to a minimum? V-Blog!
I’m an avid follower of the great metaphoricals, the bold believers. A follower of fantasists that, through their writing, create reality in strange and unique ways. Dante is one. Milton is another. Both wrote about hell, the loss of earth, and heaven. Both are immortalized as non-canonical influences to our religious perspectives.
When someone says, “Tell me of Satan,” most people talk about red horns and tail, cunning and beautiful and exotic and evil. This perspective didn’t exist before Milton’s Paradise Lost. Yet it is rarely attributed to the writer. It is assumed, somewhere in the Bible, a description exists to vitalize this image. It isn’t true. Most divells in pre-Milton literature were impish things, grotesqueries, like goblins or bats.
Image taken from the Codex Gigas, an illustrated “all-in-one” bible complete with spells and incantations to ward off evil. Written sometime in the 12th Century by a monk.
But this post isn’t about hell. It’s about a much more difficult subject to write well: heaven.
A taste of what I’ve been writing on.
It all starts with a sketch…
Not sure if I’ve written about this before, but with current events in Ferguson only a few miles from where I live, I figured I’d reinstate where I find inspiration.
The really short answer is: everywhere. I mean, I’m a creative guy. I love people. I’m full of inspiration. Boom managed. Short-blog readers rejoice. 🙂
There’s a longer answer to this that I feel I must elaborate upon. Come! Follow me down this little path. Continue reading