Saturday, January 31, 2009
Free words! Come and get 'em!
I'm starting to believe writers are too ADD to be artists. That is, when I don't believe we are artists ourselves. The lost art of playing with words is still a form. Why can't it be like painting or playing guitar?
Why should one art be frowned upon in place of another? I don't understand that.
I guess that's why I thought I'd try my hand at writing for the press, rather than, as a member of the press, because all these snobs say no one likes a critic, including me.
I've realized a couple things about this, though.
Unless you work for Fanatic Promotion, you aren't necessarily allowed to have your own voice in the sea of marketing pleas aimed to describe the things others might be interested in selling -- meaning no room for obscure references, no room for ambiguity, no byline. And let's not forget that if you are just selling something that is yet to be sold, you could get caught between consumer and creator.
This is not the same thing as writing for the sake of writing, because to write in one's own voice, one must see oneself as an active participant: as both consumer and creator.
Where am I going with this?
Maybe part of the problem lies in that question -- the idea that writers have to go anywhere. Does a song go anywhere? Does a painting go anywhere? Of course, a wall is the most obvious answer.
Why can't ideas shape as well as form the same way that art does? Are words too dead to surf the edge of the ocean of existence?
Or are they just too cheap? You know, I think I'm really onto something here.
I'm starting to believe writers are too ADD to be artists. That is, when I don't believe we are artists ourselves. The lost art of playing with words is still a form. Why can't it be like painting or playing guitar?
Why should one art be frowned upon in place of another? I don't understand that.
I guess that's why I thought I'd try my hand at writing for the press, rather than, as a member of the press, because all these snobs say no one likes a critic, including me.
I've realized a couple things about this, though.
Unless you work for Fanatic Promotion, you aren't necessarily allowed to have your own voice in the sea of marketing pleas aimed to describe the things others might be interested in selling -- meaning no room for obscure references, no room for ambiguity, no byline. And let's not forget that if you are just selling something that is yet to be sold, you could get caught between consumer and creator.
This is not the same thing as writing for the sake of writing, because to write in one's own voice, one must see oneself as an active participant: as both consumer and creator.
Where am I going with this?
Maybe part of the problem lies in that question -- the idea that writers have to go anywhere. Does a song go anywhere? Does a painting go anywhere? Of course, a wall is the most obvious answer.
Why can't ideas shape as well as form the same way that art does? Are words too dead to surf the edge of the ocean of existence?
Or are they just too cheap? You know, I think I'm really onto something here.
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