I've been thinking a lot about writing -- the processes involved, the content, sources of inspiration, fluidity of words, etc. Words have always been my mainstay, my source of comfort. When I was young, I wasn't always able to express myself verbally with the same confidence that everyone around me just naturally seemed to possess. I was shy, self-aware, all caught up in this bilingual battle raging on in my head. And so I turned to the written word to speak. In my youthful naivete, I used to believe that what I was saying on paper -- in essays, short stories, even blogs -- was a direct transcript of my personal thoughts and ideas. But in recent years, I've begun to realize that this actually isn't true at all. I've realized that the same self-awareness that haunted my formative years has unconsciously remained with me all this time.
Sometimes I find myself writing with other people in mind, with the concept of this "other" as my audience. And as a result of this self-imposed dialogue, I end up shaping my writing to conform with what I think my audience wants to hear. Hell, I might even be doing it as we speak. I don't think I've ever actually written in a public sphere (i.e. in this here blog) for the sole purpose of writing, of expressing a real individual thought. It's always been a means to an end, a passing entertainment for my so-called readers. It's only within the safe confines of my journals that I've ever really felt like myself, that I'm ever able to write with complete and utter creative abandon.
The Creative Writing in Spanish course I've been taking this semester has really forced me to re-evaluate my writing skills and methods. It's totally back-to-basics, and I love it. Poetry writing is admittedly difficult and mind-numbingly tedious, but I'm secretly reveling in rediscovering "me," the poetic voice I never knew I possessed. Yes, my poetry has been at times both contrived and disgustingly trite, but I'm glad to have an excuse to start from scratch again. Not going to lie, it feels really great.
In a perfect world, myexhalation would be my own forum, my personal sounding board where I get to hear myself talk, and where my other "selves" would respond in critique. A round table of sorts. But, of course, that most trusted and omnipresent enemy of mine -- my own damned self-awareness -- makes this a seemingly impossible thing to achieve. Nevertheless, it's a state of mind that I am continually working towards. When the words flow with the same ease as they do in the privacy of my journals, when both mind and pen are thinking and feeling in the most perfect of synchronizations...that's when I'll know I'm there.
