A (F)ilosophy for Creative Writing, Progress

Alarm Bells Ring

I am about to start waffling on again instead of being the Monday Poet, but. . .

am I waffling this time? Probably!

An update on My Philosophy for Creative Writing. I’ve chosen to remove the word – Art.

I’d planned to do quite a lot of name dropping this next few autumnal months, however, I received a wake-up-call back in July 2018, and realised that it was time to put my hobby –  practising being a Professional Writer – to bed.

The chasing of dreams can be fun, until it becomes a dangerous adventure, full of corrupted wolves that reminded me of the story of Pinocchio. Don’t you just love Walt Disney?  I don’t mean the movies so much, but the matter of fact that Walt, he never gave up on his desires and ideas. He brought his ideas onto the screens through animation and who would have thought his  ideas would have lasted so many years, developing and growing with every decade that washes by.

For the many ‘ones’ we hear of their successes, there are often a many hundred thousand people who fail.  And it is the failures that need to be appreciated too, because it is in the interest of failure that popularity and interest thrives.

I am a philosopher nowadays, please don’t ask me to be more concise. I get that a lot, but concision is a requirement for the mathematician who achieves an answer, aiming for a result. Where by  literature and life itself it is often quite the ongoing non-concise project.

Recently, I’ve come to accept that being a writer is almost like becoming a ‘spacewoman’. You will only be remembered if you make it to the moon, anyone else falls by the wayside. But if you have been following me over the years, this writing lark was never about me being remembered (I have my family for that). It was more so about letting the truth inside of me, out.  An honest part of me that had been conditionally trapped inside. It was nobody’s fault, not even mine, all I can say is that my brain somehow allowed my body to believe that emotionally trapping my ‘natural feelings of fear’ on the inside was okay.

It isn’t okay, trapping those feelings conjures up anxiety, instead of confidence and resilience.

How did this happen?

Over summer, I’ve begun to realise that past, present and the future are all intertwined, inter-connected, and it is only from the past that we can see a future coming, and for every second we learn of our past and present we begin to resiliently remould our own destination.

Alarmed!?

Don’t be.

I personally feel quite comfortable now, in sharing this appreciation for literary tenses. Once upon a time I would have been alarmed, now… with repetition and experience in practising poetry and the rest, it all feels very comfortable – especially this new writing approach I have going on.

The thing is – I now see – that which was once complex as simple and I am not sure how that fits in a world that likes to journal itself as complex. I believe Sciences  like Psychology and Physiology need to link up, and more. There are many dimensions and reasons for being and doing and . . . waffle, waffle.

Do you believe in pre-destination?

I used to, and I still have moments when I think I do. Scary things can happen.  Great things can happen. Some people can predict things, others, they just wait and see.

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I am beginning to appreciate that I shouldn’t over-think matters and I should just focus on the tasks in hand.  Don’t ask me why, but just now the story written by Marlowe,  Dr Faustas sprang to mind. I don’t feel I am name dropping as this author is very much in the past.  Marlowe’s stories are today often copied by new authors, but those of us who choose to read for the sheer pleasure of it, we know. The new fictions are merely the old in disguise, wolves again! Or are we just in a continual infinity loop?

It was when my partner asked how my day was at the turn of summer, life was changing, always is,  and I decided to say:

“I have figured out that I am not going to be a Poet forever, this isn’t my sense of  long-term purpose for Creative Writing. My commitment has shown I can turn my mind and hand to anything, but deep down I know I have a deep creative reason to be ‘outside and experiencing the world’, not tied up in this blogging malarkey dabbling in I-Ching methods to produce chaotic poetry.”

After sharing the same thought with someone else, they suggested I was burnt out, but I wasn’t. Maybe, I had finally woken up.

I am choosing to share this memory because it is still as real today as it was in July’18. How do I know? I picked up a pamphlet for a poetry festival held in Beverley, coming soon, and thought, no thank you.  A friend asked me, “is this envy you’re experiencing?”

I replied, “No, I think I have spent so much time practising poetry, I have grown tired and dissatisfied by it. Plus, I never seem to connect very well with other poets. This just isn’t my niche.”

When I began this reality adventure in following my passion and making my dreams a reality back in 2014, I’d had so many dreams, and also none at all. I hadn’t believed until recently that people could go after what they wanted. I didn’t know where to start in 2014, so I started with being a poet and why not, we all have to start somewhere and in truth I chose to go it alone, because I found parenting much easier when I made choices and chose resources and sources for myself, so I used the same ‘mum tools and approach’ in being the poet.

I found that Poet’s often lament and convalesce, but I readily wanted comedy, satire or fantasy, above all else. Today, we have the T.V. I watched Room 101 last Friday and it was hysterical. A good laughter boosts can lift your sense of being, I wasn’t finding an appreciation for laughter in Poetry, except maybe in the odd children’s poems.

When we are influenced by others, we end up sharing maybe even imitating another’s world. I had been reading pre-nineteenth century works, and I had wanted to feel grounded in what I believed to be the strength of my core self, in the pastoral.

I’ve learned tons in my practice, however, I also realised it was time to stop. I am not a poet! I don’t even want to be a poet. I have to look on the positive side, in that what I achieved in practise I am happy with, even when I had been treading in the wrong garden – for me.

Do we only become victims in life if we rely on others and influencers to make our decisions and decide for us?

Dare I say, we can become victims when our choices are limited or un-needed, why did I want to write un-heeded?

In becoming the poet for the last few years, I proved to myself and the realms of reality around me, that we can choose for ourselves.  I have certainly missed my own income in being the kept mother, mistress of the house, and professional researching poet, without academia behind me, and on occasions, because of the restrictions I placed upon myself without the personal income, I had fewer choices! Yet, it is within my chosen restrictions and decisions that I learned to adapt and levelled up to a new destination, and it all feels quite exciting right now.

I once read that life is easier when you don’t expect.

I would once have counter argued: life is harder if you don’t have a plan.

Today, I say, “It is not so much the plan but maybe the vision that provides a sense of purpose.” That said, I have often winged my way through life through the wolves, until I became the practising poet, and truly have to admit, I am thankful to emerge ‘out’ of the others side of all this progress, resiliently positive without a scratch and content.

My Philosophy. Sept 2018

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