A small corduroy bear, with one eye, smiles on his shoulders.
I had an idea for a book, but I can't remember it now. This is really frustrating; I should start carrying a little moleskin around with me just in case brilliance happens. Maybe wandering through some wonderings here will help me to remember.
It had something to do with a conversation I had last night. Roz and I were discussing the foundations of our (as Americans) history, and how unstable they are. It began, actually, when we both recognized Ray Charles's "America the Beautiful" as being perhaps more genuine than even the original. It then somehow got to where said she would enjoy it if when iconic figures reached a certain age or point in their life, they began to parody themselves and stuff like that. And I said something along the lines of, well, they are already those who parody our lives on television and in the movies, and for our entertainment they create situations that are almost real but never actually, and these scripted lives are such a huge part of our identity, thus a part of us is inherently false. The last hundred years or so, ever since we could look at ourselves as interpreted by someone else, we are not who we are not, though that is who we supposedly will be remembered as. And eventually, we will be remembered falsely, because that's partially what we were, false.
Right now, I don't know how a book idea came out of that. But it was an awesome conversation.
I'm reading "Diary" by Chuck Palahniuk right now, for the second and a half time. It's an amazing book and I highly recommend it, but you don't have to take my word for it. It's partially contributed to me being in this totally creatively driven, constantly thinking, pondering, analytical state of mind. I'm content to sit in my angled bench, parallel to the computer, mildly grinding my teeth, just wondering. I really want to finish my novel. I really want to do a lot. I really want something here vague, but in my mind specific, right now.
Endings are realized so much faster than beginnings. And the long stretches of middle ground we then walk are such unique, uncertain terrain, which never really prepares you for what's next. But I like walking so much.
It had something to do with a conversation I had last night. Roz and I were discussing the foundations of our (as Americans) history, and how unstable they are. It began, actually, when we both recognized Ray Charles's "America the Beautiful" as being perhaps more genuine than even the original. It then somehow got to where said she would enjoy it if when iconic figures reached a certain age or point in their life, they began to parody themselves and stuff like that. And I said something along the lines of, well, they are already those who parody our lives on television and in the movies, and for our entertainment they create situations that are almost real but never actually, and these scripted lives are such a huge part of our identity, thus a part of us is inherently false. The last hundred years or so, ever since we could look at ourselves as interpreted by someone else, we are not who we are not, though that is who we supposedly will be remembered as. And eventually, we will be remembered falsely, because that's partially what we were, false.
Right now, I don't know how a book idea came out of that. But it was an awesome conversation.
I'm reading "Diary" by Chuck Palahniuk right now, for the second and a half time. It's an amazing book and I highly recommend it, but you don't have to take my word for it. It's partially contributed to me being in this totally creatively driven, constantly thinking, pondering, analytical state of mind. I'm content to sit in my angled bench, parallel to the computer, mildly grinding my teeth, just wondering. I really want to finish my novel. I really want to do a lot. I really want something here vague, but in my mind specific, right now.
Endings are realized so much faster than beginnings. And the long stretches of middle ground we then walk are such unique, uncertain terrain, which never really prepares you for what's next. But I like walking so much.