i've come back to this numerous times to find and re-read lines of words i really like. there's that flow of words and thought which, in return, deserve a poem to really say anything true about them. and that, i think, is part of the charm of this, that one sees it and expects to read a few lines of prose and it turns out to be a poem...
No, "preface" actually fits better, I agree, but the entire thing started because the word "premise" kept running through my head. At work late, I wrote it down during a smoke break, murmuring to myself, "a premise to what? premise, premise, premise..." you know how sometimes a word loses all meaning? and then the rest just came out. I suppose it doesn't matter much as long as it's not for public consumption, yeah?
Can't tell you how many times that's happened to me in the process of creating something.
You know, something sparks it off and then suddenly it takes off on its own. And I guess our part in it, aside from being a receptor for the original inspiration, is to iron out the inconsistencies we find in its aftermath.
As for it not being for public consumption, I realize that's a very personal decision, but if it were based solely on quality, on how well it communicates an experience and elicits a response, it certainly works for me and I'm very glad to have been able to read it.
Hope things are going well in the North Country, or wherever you may be...
Obviously I've just been back here for the first time in a while. Journaling got away from me. Unless I live in a busy place, I rarely journal when I'm happy. My brain is mush. But it's been a year and a half, about, since it became mushy, and nearly a year since I moved to the north country (most of the winter I had the line "make sure she has a coat so warm, to keep her from the howling winds" stuck in my head, along with the retort, this is a MILD winter?!) and I'm beginning to write again. Not so much about myself ~ I even bought a smaller journal, to fit in my purse, where my leather bound monstrousity can't go, and that didn't help...but the past couple months, I've been writing about unreal life, at a nudge from my friend Mikey. It started off AWFULLY. But it's slowly getting better...
p.s. (If you couldn't tell) "Mushy" is being manda-speak for "crazy in love" but it's just embarrasing saying that. It makes me feel like I should be a 19 year old, when I'm pretty sure my actual mental age is 12.
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You know, something sparks it off and then suddenly it takes off on its own. And I guess our part in it, aside from being a receptor for the original inspiration, is to iron out the inconsistencies we find in its aftermath.
As for it not being for public consumption, I realize that's a very personal decision, but if it were based solely on quality, on how well it communicates an experience and elicits a response, it certainly works for me and I'm very glad to have been able to read it.
Hope things are going well in the North Country, or wherever you may be...
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