Der Steppenwolf

My my, here again so soon. Exhaustion brings me here. Everything around me now is soporific, but at least here challenges me to dig into self and psychic digging certainly wakes one up.

Over a year and I don't think I've paid tribute to the namesake of this blog. And my time away, even from here reminded me of how much I truly feel like the steppenwolf. It is so juvenile to identify so strongly with a character out of a work of art, but here I am, I still do.

Hermann Hesse's 'Steppenwolf' is challenging reading but to this day it is the one work of fiction I identify with the most, not only for the angst but also for the way the narrative closes, imploring us to find a way to be happy in this life.

I am oversimplifying way too much. The concept of the Steppenwolf is much more complex than that...today I can only sum it up with a bit from one of its section headings 'For Mad Men Only'

Hesse is not for the faint of heart and I do not mean that in any snobbish literary sense, although everything about Steppenwolf's Harry Haller is extreme arrogance and snobbery. But in the sense of wanting to retreat to the hills and howl in solitude, yes, I identify with Haller, if only for a moment. The thing is Haller got it wrong in many ways and when I howl with a cantadora in hand I don't feel the angst that paralyzed Haller. Cantadora: see: Women who run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes.

Today I just want to get past Haller's murky mood, ignore my murky environ and laugh, laugh, laugh and laugh some more. Howl a little bit and then laugh some more.

 Namaste

Black Summer's Night

this is the highest cost
take you and make you off
lift you and leave you lost
will you forgive me?

Bad Habits by Maxwell

Thanks Maxwell for bringing back feeling to music, for bringing back soul music. I've read some reviews that want the album to be the typical 12 songs - 60 min plus, or want him to sound like he did, seven years ago. I think that it is ridiculous to expect an artist to remain frozen in time. I absolutely enjoy the first part of the expected trilogy. I absolutely love the way he sounds like what I'm used to hearing from him and how he sounds different in some areas. His falsetto notes are not as sharply distinctive from the lower notes. He sounds more earthy, more real. His younger voice was so fresh and clean and crisp, now he sounds perhaps 'less sweet' but more delicious. I remember when I started listening to Urban Hang Suite and scanning the CD jacket to find out who was the guest singer on the album, only to realize that the man was crazy skilled in range and could sound like several different people. I enjoy his voice now as much as I did then.

And it has taken beautiful music to get me out of my hiatus; not 8 years like him, not 8 months, but a few. I am reminded not to let the art suffer, not to let soul wither and to be true to self always.

I hope my art 'forgives' me after 'dragging it all over town' after 'taking it and making it off' not to mention 'lifting it and leaving it lost'... I hope my characters will let me back in.

So many things sap soul, so many things can destroy the spirit, certainly 'the highest cost' but the universe remains true to its own and I feel lassoed back to where I need to be.

Namaste

Of Signatures and Signs

I have been looking forward to this weekend for a few weeks now, for the beginning of my time to really write. I’ve been too exhausted to put pen to paper yet but my head has been working overtime.
I had a few ‘moments’ the last weekend. Some were a bit disconcerting, but I think I have evolved a bit. I can only dwell on the exciting ones. Even though I’ve been taking in the media hype surrounding MJ and even though I’ve been silently ‘mourning’ (notwithstanding his eccentricities and trials-literal and figurative), I believe he was genius/talent unparalleled. What was so spectacular about his moves or voice? That is not rational. Charisma shouldn’t be analysed. It just is and he had it. It’s that meditation on his works that reminds me of the principle – there are some truly wonderful experiences that cancel the messes we confront. And that past weekend, though I had some unsettling bits here and there, there were others formidable enough to cancel out subversive energy.
I was fortunate to reason with one of my favourite Caribbean writers. Where to begin??!! Initially I just wanted to be in her presence so that some of her energy might touch me. I was nervous about meeting her, I didn’t want to seem greedy for guidance, but I was. She was wonderfully patient and attentive. She asked me the questions I have been reluctant to acknowledge and she said the things I needed to hear. The universe has an uncanny way of putting things in the right place at the right time. We just need to be receptive. Speaking to her gave me a sense of peace and purpose which reminds me of the importance of community and communion with others, especially communing with others of the creative persuasion. What she gave me was so obvious but worth hearing from one who has walked the road. I will share three things that moved me significantly.
1.What do you really want to say to your audience?
I used to think that was so obvious, that I was unwilling to say it out loud. I used to think that if I am driven by this cliché of a moral then why do I need the story? But the moral is not the story. Saying the moral out loud validated it in a way I never expected. I realized that I really do want to tell this story. And I am willing to risk all the things I feared to say out loud. I have reached the place where I feel I need to tell this story. It has nothing to do with me. It is a message that ought to be heard.
2.The characters come as fully formed complexities which go in places I didn’t expect. What do I do with them? It feels so much easier to just let them be.
She said what I believed deep down but I didn’t want to admit because it was so exciting to sit at the PC and let the characters flow: The writer ought to take control. If I know where I want it to go (and yes I do) then craft the characters in that direction.
I knew I had to hear this out loud for me to take it seriously because I suspected for a while that my project was going slower than I wanted to because some of the peripheral characters were getting all pushy with their lives and motives. She reminded me: let the character do their duties; I must direct them. So yes, I told myself, don’t be a wimp, listen to them but don’t just take everything they tell you.
Good advice comes in three:
3. I admitted my fears about not being relevant to the people I want to speak to and that was leading to some kind of creative paralysis sometimes.
(I should know better, really.) She reminded me - your work is often most relevant to the people you least expect to reach. She said that she never expected to hear some of the reactions to her work or the expanse of the reception she received. So don’t fret about who will care about your work or who will read it. Just do what needs to be done, be creative.
SO
Although you ought to consider your audience, you have to abandon the idea of the audience that you have when it comes down to the reality of writing. She reminded me to encode the messages into multiple levels that a range of individuals can access the work. That I will have to think about some more.
I didn’t think it cheesy to ask for her autograph. I really do believe in the strength of shared creative energy. It sounds extremely corny but her signature on a copy of her work is a tangible thread connecting me to the wider community that I would like to be a part of. That was last week Friday.
The following day, while doing my Saturday morning - visit the town thing, I was busy looking for a house-warming gift for a crony and I heard someone call a child’s name - the name of my lead character. I was so taken aback! There I was in the store, staring down the mother and her two children, one who had the name which I took from our local patois meaning ‘Truth.’ That was the first time I had ever heard someone with that name. She said it EXACTLY how I think of her, a Francophone word, with an anglicized pronunciation. I was so excited in that moment, as if it was the sign I needed to reinforce the lessons I received the day before.
After getting much needed rest this weekend, tomorrow is a brand new exciting journey to find out where TRUTH will lead.
Namaste

"Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste," maybe sans sanity too

Ok the bard had a really emo outlook on life sometimes. I'm not feeling that emo mood now, but I am a bit sans sanity. If I had to put an ad out, it would read someting like:

Desperately seeking a few days of uninterrupted madness so I could get rid of the madness in my head.

I wish I could commune with a few other writers now, just to determine if my experience is vaguely familiar; yes all writers have their individual obstacle courses, but there must be some common ground?

Every once in while when I sit at the project and I expect to take off from where I left, another direction pops up and my reaction is, 'where the hell did that come from?' I really am a novice at this because all my grand efforts at being organized are reduced to nil when I sit at the PC and the characters start doing their own thing. It sounds incredibly cliched but it's like I got a piece of a puzzle that was stuck under a cushion seat or something and I know it's part of this puzzle I'm working on, but I have no idea where it is fitting because the other links are not in yet and I have to look at the picture on the cover to know at least where in scheme it falls.

I was really looking forward to the 'holiday' so that I could have a few hours to making critical links, (this week I was able to see how things were going, I did some re-shuffling of material, I filled in some gaps and I was excited about that!!!) but madam (yes a character) had to go and do something else (I really didn't see that one coming) and derail MY plans for how this was going. How is it that I can have so little control of my character? I mean, I'm supposed to be in charge right? It doesn't look so AT ALL.

I know that sounds like I'm writing based on a real individual...I'm not. It's a funny position to be in, considering I always caution my students about the directive coming from examiners: 'don't write about about the characters as if they are real people, they are inventions and literary analysis ought to acknowledge that.'

I feel like a hypocrite because Madam doesn't feel like an invention. Madam feels like a person with a voice and a soul. I came so close to doing something in my personal life that I thought would help me know her better. I have not determined how to do it, but I think I will. I think there's more about that character that I have not explored and she is needling me to do it, sooner rather than later.

Truly Sans Sanity

The Secret Life of a GG

Call me unpatriotic, or whatever you will, but why do taxpayers have to continue supporting an antiquated system of governor-generalship? I’m traditional in many ways, but do we really need this in our constitution? Can we not find a more inexpensive figurehead? Or why doesn’t Lizzy and Co. whether it’s Charlo or Haro or Will fund it?

I was driving past the governor general’s house some time ago and facetiously I said I would like to be a GG when I grow up. Housekeeping, cooking all taken care of and all spruced up and polished, go to all kinds of social functions, with my own personal guard... attend a few crappy functions, sign a litany of documents, just to say I signed. (to be honest I would not like it very much, except for enjoying the location and beauty of the colonial home)
I might be holding an extremely unpopular position but we waste so many dollars on useless figureheads, useless commissions that I want to wash my hands clean of being an active part of society. But that’s just a fleeting sentiment of wondering why keep this figure head? (ok ok if there is one place I should be completely honest, it’s this blog, so no, it’s not fleeting)
I recently saw a TV clip of the GG trying to bob the head to enjoy the music at a festival. It looked a bit silly. I immediately had the idea of someone writing a satirical faux blog of the ‘The Secret Life of a GG’ like TNT’s ‘The secret blog of “the current political leader”’ I used to read that TNT blog. I found it hilarious, much like the local TV satire of leading figures we had here a few years ago. A SNL genre of writing:
Inside the GG’s head: You know I don’t understand this music thing at all, what is this, no tambou and jouk fouye, the traditional things we grew up on? What is this do do do we do wop thing, I can’t even tap my fingers to it at all. But I better look as if I can enjoy this because over there the camera man is panning the camera towards me, ok, now little smile, fix the lips, and head left to right back and front yes, ok I think this will look respectable. Do do do do de wop wop. Cheups, a little quadrille and chac chac would go down well here.

‘The Secret Life of a GG,’ I can imagine the reactions to that irreverent kind of writing. Of course in a particular kind of social environment I would denounce it while secretly checking every week for an update.

'Tis the season of do do do do de wop de do...

The Art of Beautiful Writing

As usual this post is going to be all over the place...the luxury of blogging.

The 'Beautiful Writing' which I speak of is calligraphy! I have fallen in love with it. It's been a few months since I bought a kid's calligraphy kit, and every now and then I try to be the artist I was never meant to be. But you know even if the scripts don't turn out how I want them to, I don't feel frustrated. It is surprisingly calming to be practising over and over and the results change ever so slightly. I have pages and pages of lettering and sometimes when I carry the kit around in my bag, I whip it out to get a few minutes of art in the middle of my day.

Now I am obsessed with getting the right pens for the skill. Right now I'm using chisel tip calligraphy markers, and I recently bought the last packet in the only store here, where I found them. So although my birthday is a long way off, you know what to get me if you ever swing by a stationery store. I might just be able to thank you with my eventual expertise in beautiful writing.

As for the other writing... can I say 'beautiful'? I'm not sure I want to be that daring. But I have dared myself to 1000 words a day. If I can squeeze that much in on a daily basis, then soon, very soon I can have the manuscript that is impatient to get out.

I got a puppy about 2 weeks ago and all I could think of when I saw him was 'runt'. Unsually harsh coming from dog-lover. But I think it was partly grief from having my Mavis replaced only 6 months after she died. And Harry was not taking too kindly to Puppy. He looked very uncomfortable. AND puppy had the same colouring as Mavis; gave me a bout of chagrin for my crazy, emo Mavis.

But you can't help but love a puppy. And call me crazy, puppies especially when they're still drinking milk have a distinctive smell which makes you want to pick them up and fondle their faces. I don't particularly like the teeth at my ankles, but they're a ball of energy, total fun.

All this to say, after a week of having 'Franco' (so named by a little person) he was not at all runt-like. He was round and roly-poly and his barking was so cute. Day by day I can see him growing, because I make sure he is fed at least 3-4 times for the day (I can't stand to see skinny dogs unless they're supposed to be a skinny breed).

Feed your writing 1000 words a day and soon you're going to see well-rounded project unfold.

But you know that already!

Namaste

Verse versus Prose

I was sharing with a kindred spirit sometime ago, that I lost interest in writing verse a while back.

It all started when she showed me a piece she was working on and my response to it was so cerebral that some of the musicality of it escaped me and unfortunately so did some of what she intended to communicate. I indicated that it was because I don't usually 'hear' poetry when I read it. She wondered how then do I write? I admitted that's why I stopped writing verse. I didn't like to read out loud. I didn't want to hear my words expressed out loud. Her passion for the impulse to read her work and share was so foreign to me that I was a little embarrassed. It's why I stopped writing verse. I am so self-conscious when it comes to performing that I refuse to do it. She suggested that her writing is not personal so she does not have time to be self-conscious.

That's not what it is for me. Even my poems which are not personal, I never liked performing them. I would really prefer to read in a monotone, devoid of any kind of inflection and poetry just does not work that way. Prose doesn't either, but the performance demand is considerably less, and it is easier for the author to be distanced from the content. Poetry is just too intimate.

That's the struggle I have yet to overcome and that's why being the writer I really want to be is still elusive. I don't want you to see me, I want you to see the craft. As long as there is anything that resembles me too much I avoid it. So when it came to Verse versus Prose, it was a KO from prose.

I wouldn't say that I eschew verse completely but right now there are characters in my head and there is only one medium for them. (sounds a bit suggestive, but no I just find with each passing day the charcters become more vivid and I learn more about them really quite arbitrarily)

I call it prosetry, but that's for an entirely different post....

Green Gables

Without imagination there is only stasis.

To think that we do sooo many things without any sense of thrill or excitement. I like children's literature for that very reason. There is a wonder and enjoyment of the world that jaded adults just miss. Recently I got Anne of Green Gables from the bookstore, primarily because the cover was a really lovely turquoise and the cover page illustration of the character was so quirky that I couldn't resist. I was rewarded with a reading experience that was worth my superficial reason for picking it up. Like a child would be moved by the simplicity of how beautiful something looks, I found my shallow reason was enough of a motive. I'm just about halfway and I like Anne's desire to fill every experience with the imagination. Part of me would want to give real life Anne a time-out quite often but that's the soulless adult losing patience with trusting innocence.

I am not saying that we should approach everything with that open spirit, trusting all, and losing our wisdom to innocence. But it is good to infuse our days with imagination. Do we have to overload our senses with blood and gore and criminal investigations? What's so bad with a little fairy world, an ogre, a dragon or some stardust? Or even a little alternative reality in the fiery sky or the golden sea?

On a slightly related note, I was thinking recently that our Caribbean folklore tends to be very dark and full of gore. Even the benevolent supernatural creatures tend to be a bit frightening. Yes, I would like to take a few months away from my regular job and pore over the lore across the Caribbean region. There's no telling where imagination will take one. Like this post, where is it now?

I do think there is something about faith, love and the imagination in the: "unless ye be like a child..."

Blessings and Imagination to you!!!

Harry Potter, T. S. Eliot & Catholicism

What an incongruous title, what an irreverent post!!

Today I was being a good Catholic, I went to mass. There I was reminded of my short temper with critiques of the H Potter series. I suspect a significant number of these critics have not read the books. And then my temper comes from a bias of a love for a fictional world. The intricacies of Rowling's world are engaging. It's also what I like about the Pendragon series.

So from one enamoured with the romance of fictional worlds and having first read the Potter series as an adult (so I just don't perceive the threat to one's sanity/spirituality)I think maligning the series is a waste of energy, especially pulpit energy. I admit that I can see how an impressionable 'child' can be seduced by the 'magic.' But then you can dissect every single novel ever written and see the subversive subliminal messages. Well, let me not get into all the things that a young child can be seduced by. It's so easy to latch on to any one thing and blame it. It's so easy to forget the things we take for granted. If something is bad and dangerous, then explain why to adults and children. You blindly say DON'T and expect compliance? When did that ever work?

As an adult I don't feel threatened by the 'magic' of the novels. The themes are classic: the struggle of good versus evil and the triumph of good. My enjoyment of the romance of the fictional world, comes from the same place that is enamoured with the elaborate intricacies of Catholicism. And that comes from having had my doubts and questions and miscellaneous explorations. After all my journeys I returned more Catholic than I ever thought I could be. And I realized that all my journeys and explorations brought me to a new kind of understanding which I will not explain or defend. So why do I even bother to explain the attachment to Harry Potter? I am so bored with the criticisms.

Which takes me to Eliot, whose Waste Land images came to me in the middle of that sermon, "Son of man, you cannot say, or guess, for you know only a heap of broken images."

When one misses the intricacies or mystery of the elaborate Catholic world, it becomes rote, blind adherence without conviction, a heap of broken images. It does not even reach out to a Harry Potter world(or any) because it missed out on its basic tenets, to turn back for that last leper. I looked at the rituals and when you really think about the meaning attached to them, they really are quite compelling. But has it become so rote that we forget? Eliot's Fisher King takes from the image of the messiah dying to redeem that waste land. It has been done, salvation has been offered. I don't know what I want the pulpit to say. I just don't want it to destroy the beauty of the intricate world. I don't want it to become a heap of broken images.

And I came out a very bad Catholic, ever committed, ever immersed and ever critical, just like the pulpit.

Miles Davis and miscellaneous

Somehow, trying to be invisible in a small island just does not work.

My characters are harassing me with the desire to get out of my head and all sorts of other things about living here try to distract me. That is the challenge of writing now. Not the fear of wondering if I will be good enough to be read, or to sell. At the risk of sounding self-absorbed and oblivious to an audience's interests; frankly I just want to get the characters of of my head. It's a tad schizophrenic now. Full-fledged dialogues appear in my head at the oddest times and I find myself wanting to get away to put them down before I forget. I find myself getting irritated with the world at large because there's a world in my head that just won't disappear.

So my absence here has not meant lack of writing. Au contraire.

So where does Miles Davis come in all of this. I have no idea. I have been listening to Meshell Ndegeocello every morning for the last 2 weeks and as I settled down to catch up on job-work(the distractions), I wanted that bass/sax jazz sound without vocals and Miles it is...'The Complete Bitches Brew Sessions'

I really don't want to sound like that cliched beatnik bohemian sensibility, but the music really hits the spot...sans any incense and other smoky stimulants. Ok ok so I had my 'Black Fix' dose of caffeine already.

Hopefully I can get through job-work early enough to put in a few pages of those guys in my head, who seem to like Miles too.