Saturday, March 05, 2005

want

Okay so the two questions I was asked last night (in between martinis) were

1) Do you think blogging helps your life as a poet?
2) If you could regain one thing in your writing life you believe you’ve lost what would it be?

Well I have no idea if blogging helps me, sometimes I think it does, sometimes I don’t. At times I believe if I was more serious I would just write all the time. But I really wanted a more in depth writing community and I think I have found it here with blogging. It does help to see other people going through the same woes and having the same questions. Still, I use it sometimes to avoid what I need to get done.

The second question is easier to answer and even though I bitch about it, I miss my arrogance, when I first started writing I believed I could change the world. Maybe everyone believes this, I don’t know. I have only been me. But even as a little girl I wanted to be the writer in my generation.

For example, the first time I had my palm read the woman did several double takes and said you will affect countless people and I didn’t even flinch, I was like well I KNOW that now explain who I am going to date. lol

But somehow I think I’ve lost that sense of knowing and it is the thing I miss most. Now I see the amazing writing of other people. I don’t feel like anything I say is new or different and I have to constantly remind myself of my own truth. And I think those countless people may not be my readers at all but the children I stand in front of everyday and say you are an artist, you can do anything.

I’m not knocking that vocation, I love my job but it is not all I want. I want so much more.

4 comments:

Radish King said...

but a tree did not sing yet a boy did / in a church with his hands / between my legs-- / small shutter, a flood.Have I told you lately how much I adore this poem After The Communion and how often I have returned to Burnside Review to reread it? No, I have not.

In truth, you have no idea who your words affect or how. Do you? So, snap out of it missy.

xo

early hours of sky said...

It was b/c you wrote what you did I wrote the poem above. Thank you for that, though I do think it was a little bit like being bitch slapped lol

and thank you for liking the other poem and saying so.

early hours of sky said...

slap was meant in a good kind of way so I would stop feeling sorry for myself--it worked.

C. Dale said...

It is funny, but I think most of us have these feelings. I feel like I write the same poem over and over. Well, maybe I write the same three poems over and over. I, too, never feel as if I saying anything new or interesting. But I have to remember Poetry is a dialogue with the past, the present, and the future. Sometimes the poems we think will speak are mute. Sometimes the shy little ugly thing speaks to millions. All we can do is write. Right?