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hello? hello again.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
it always seems the quietest when it is a cold night, as if the sounds are frozen in the frigid wind, stopped like the breath during that first icy blast of air in the lungs.occasionally, above the din of the languid, breathy lyrics of my music, i can hear brief snippets of my neighbor's television program, the garbled indistinct raucous of prime-time television. it seems uncomfortably intimate, my unintentional eavesdropping; the reminder that a stranger lives and breathes on the other side of a plaster wall. the staccato irregularity of my writing has been mostly my own doing, self-censorship bleeding onto the page, marring the finished product in doubt. somewhere, among the proliferation of drafts, there was good intention. with any luck, sharing any old drivel that flits across my mind long enough to spur a verbal image will dispel the need to be 'good' to write. i have been toying with the idea of lower-case writing as of late, what it might reflect in the reader. i imagine dispelling self-importance of the word and the thing itself, the juxtaposition of this with writing as an art, elevating the mundane to the inspired, is something i want to play with going forward. that, or i have gotten incredibly lazy. i have stories bubbling over, frothing in the miasma of experience. with any luck, something will ignite and set the whole lot aflame, presenting enough ash to form a sentence or two. the immolation of my silent history. the irony that i am thawing just when the world outside is crystalized in winter is not lost on me. what can i say, i have always been notoriously out of sync. |
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Keeper of Bees
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