Something I Must Say
Thursday, November 18, 2010 at 12:49PM Why is writing important? Mainly, out of egotism, I suppose. Because I want to be that persona, a writer, and not because there is something I must say.
-Susan Sontag, 1957
I'm horribly disturbed by how quickly time is rushing by me. Last night, sitting on the sofa with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other, letting my belly hang out in post-cake trauma, I watched the minutes move on the clock, getting angrier and angrier as each hour passed without me realizing. What am I DOING with my life.
I shouldn't be so cyclically cynical: this is mostly just the comedown from a weekend spent with family, residual emotions of one of those beautiful weekends when everyone is together, dancing, laughing, each of us with a song in our heart, appreciating the moment of togetherness to celebrate each other's lives. But then I wake up on Monday, and everyone is gone, yellow balloons lie puckered, low to the ground, streamers sag, and I feel the drudgery of another week weighing down on me, responsibilities and pressures and dental appointments like the tiny stabs of a pin. And I want to go back again to the laughter, to sucking helium out of a balloon and singing Happy Birthday. But you can't go back again.
Dear Diary: The world is moving way too fast. It's all I can do to keep writing it down.
And then I wonder (again and again and AGAIN out loud) why I feel so compelled to write in the first place. I do agree with what they say, that the personal blog is dying. (I hate statements like this, and yet I make them.) I think that unless it's couched in a distinct creative intent, there's no point. Unless you're making noise to make beautiful noise (or hilarious noise, or world-changing noise), you should just shut up.
Who have I turned into? Grumpy Old Zan. Moping her way through November. Mopember.
Why do we do what we do? And must we, really? Creativity can be a burden or a joy, but either way it's a process, not just a natural bodily function (excepting maybe Tracey Emin's bed). I've been taking comfort lately in biographies and memoirs of artists, in discovering how art came into this world, sometimes by accident, mostly by hard work. These accidental, easy scribblings on this page are but a joke. (Todd Rundgren: "The ultimate punchline would be, you know, to stand in front of your Creator, at the end, and ask, 'What was this, just a fucking joke?' and he says, 'Yes.'") But you and I: we've been through that.
And so I sit at home on my couch, the hours pass, and I've created nothing but bodily functions. Not very beautiful noises at all. (Though often quite funny.)
And then one day I look up from my navel and see that all around me people are busy making beautiful things. Things with messages and intent. There is artistry all around us. There is beauty all around us. We all have the potential to do amazing things. We are all Stars.
It's okay to let other people do the creating once in a while. To let your own thoughts simmer in the meantime. They'll come to a boil soon enough.
* * *
Just Kids - Patti Smith
Hear Patti Smith read from her (now National Book Award winning) memoir, including a great scene where Allen Ginsberg rescues her at the Automat. I couldn't be happier that this book won the award; its honesty was heart-breaking, and its simplicity endeared me to Patti Smith in a way I never would have expected. When you're done listening to that, go listen to this.
A Wizard, A True Star: Todd Rundgren in the Studio - Paul Myers
Reborn: Journals and Notebooks 1947-1963 - Susan Sontag
© Zan McQuade. All rights reserved.
writing
Reader Comments (5)
We've talked about this briefly, and I agree with you. But it still makes me sad to think that personal blogging is on its way out. I mostly feel like I have nothing to say, so I go long stretches without saying anything on my blog, too, but I'm still compelled to have one. A community blog would be fun, but there are so many of them and so few that are good, you know?
I like recording the minutiae. Maybe it's back to paper and pen?
The whole reason I started a blog was so that I'd write, and write I have. I've often argued that my blog is a big writing exercise, so of course some of it is going to be messy noise. I love recoding the minutiae too, and when I know that people are reading what I write, though, I feel compelled to edit, something I wouldn't do with a personal journal. It's certainly helped my editing skills, and my awareness of constraints. Really this was just my annual reminder that I don't HAVE to post something all the time. Or that I don't have to feel bad when I don't feel like it.
That said, I'm also struggling a lot with the fact that to be a really good artist - any kind of artist - takes a lot of time and energy, neither of which I have a lot of right now. Patti Smith always makes me feel like I should be doing something more creative; her winning the National Book Award was amazing, but it made me question what I'm trying to do with my own writing. What direction I'm headed.
Essentially, I was just thinking out loud. Plus, sometimes I feel like there are just too many ideas weighing my head down, and if I don't purge some of them every once in a while, I might explode. (And so the poor world gets burdened with the weight of them.)
Also: let's start a group blog.
i've been feeling this too lately. i think any creative output uses up reserves... and sometimes we need a big break to replenish.
p.s. i'm so glad you posted that! i hadn't seen it yet and my friend lea makes an appearance, so that was fun! beautiful video and song. your brother has a lovely falsetto.
But you make such beautiful, poetic noise! I haven't read your blog in a while, but every time I do, I read at least one paragraph like the first one of this post that makes me want to scream, "EXACTLY! Zan McQuade is in my head!" And also a far better writer than I am, but your writing still inspires me to keep on, keep on, even if I don't share my rants and musings with anyone else.
Sam: Your friend did an amazing job! What an undertaking. I'm so in awe of what they came up with.
Aw, Janice: thanks. That means a lot to hear. I hope I'm not taking up too much space in your head; rants and musings should have priority.