2 artists

to all aspiring artists

You can be an artist if you are creating as you go. you live your life and you record it with whatever materials you choose, in whatever way you wish to record it, not necessarily how it appears to you, but how it feels to you, not necessarily each and every thing which transpires, but those instances which stand out for you, for whatever reason, good or badness aside, morality unnecessary, judgment removed, recounting perhaps some infinitesimal change may have established in your thoughts, feelings, sentiments, or even your style, behavior, fashion, or manner of dreaming or daydreaming, it’s all up for grabs, whether it pushed you forward, pulled you in or dropped you out, whether it silenced you, gave you pause, made you more vocal or expressively settled you into new rhythms or arrhythms. you can be an artist in any medium but if you wanna be an artist try to be an artist every day. the chore may feel quite burdensome at times, and especially at the start but not only in the beginning, either, very often midstream, do not let this deter you, this aversion to effort, do not mistake it for a lack of inspiration, okay, we all get tired by work on mammoth projects in need of our unceasing attention, just battle on through and love yourself more for your ceaseless, tireless devotion to what you do. and remember, when you come across a crisis of confidence in yourself, perhaps in the face of the contender, or in light of a culture which has not yet opened its eyes to you, to your content, remember the unquestionable and valid fact of your life, that only you have lived this life, this life can neither be price-tagged nor questioned, this life is yours and your alone and you are and always will be its great historian. and without you telling it, showing it, representing it? it will not otherwise be known! let this thought alone drive you forward in your quest!

restructuring your work

A couple of days ago, I found a way back into my book, maybe the new moon on the 4th of June gave me an opening. I took it. I’m still not out of the woods, but I have a lead. I never give up hope; with writing, you can always find a way. The book is written in first person, with tense varying from past to present. I have been dreaming about switching up narrators, alternating chapter to chapter, yet I really love coming from the voice and perspective of my female lead, my heroine, and a change would be risky. This is serial fiction, after all, and one should expect consistency across books. Still, a slight departure from the first two books – in voice or person – could be pulled off, I thought, so long as the plot and characters held together. I’ve been dreaming about this for months (and not on purpose), and I found a compromise. I started interspersing the main narrative – chapters rounding out at 2,000 words each – with slices of 3rd person narrative about 500 words each. The body is therefore still under the auspice of Ame, for protection of what I have established (in the first two books), and guidance. Yet I am letting in light of special circumstances, subchapters pertaining to Kell, describing her experience simultaneous to and interwoven with the plot. I was thrilled to have envisioned this, and I believe it’s rather unusual for an author to switch back and forth from first and third person. But it seems to be working so far and it’s an intuitive hit. Let’s see now if i can pull it off!

creative process

the mad scientist in me and you (creative process)

mad scientist

I don’t know about you but only in silence can I break away from routine and find my way back to her, the mad scientist in me. Ya, once I find her all bets may be off, she may decide to pump some Iggy Pop or Nine Inch Nails into my bloodstream with all the coffee. Here in my laboratory — aka my apartment —  playing with the soft membrane between you and me in my mind. Going off somewhere unusual and yet somehow self-validating. The unitive awaits us, the collective mind, where we may connect from any distance. It’s extrasensory. My head is buzzing by Alice Munro’s  Carried Away. I let the kittens outside for the night. They will be cold but they want to go. I am denying the urge to go off with salts and butters on a plate of broiled veggies and shrimp. Other tenants in the building are bumping into our shared walls, makes me feel safer. Me and you, we really need to break the routine for a hot second. Let the atmosphere in my kitchen become remarkable all of a sudden. Only because I am paying extra attention. Super cool and clear with vinyl floors, flourescent overheads, a giant green chair, a laminate wood table. Much different from the feel of the carpeted living room with cathedral ceiling. I can breathe into the silence and feel the softness of the inside of my baby blue dollar store slippers. I can follow the whisping whirr of the ceiling fan. The lovely chime of the Tibetan bell tongue, rocking against itself. Why fear my mad scientist when I love her so? She is raison d’etre like no other! Out of her comes strange stories like Maze and Grand Theft Life. Maybe that’s what terrifies me? Stories of my life but not exactly memoirs. Call it creative nonfiction. Or don’t call it anything at all. Just what comes out of the silence with me. Alluring and luring us to a feast of re creation. Thank god I have my laboratory. Thank god I have my routine to break. Thank god I have my health. Thank god for Alice Munro. Thank god for you. Thank god for books. Thank god for the mad scientist in me — and in you. Let’s all let ourselves get carried away by our experiments tonight. This is true living!

writing process

momentum. writing process.

You got the scars and now you’re seeing stars, you have your vision about you, it’s time to write that story and see where it goes, take off all your clothes, undress the wounds. Let them see you. Finally. Picked up the slack and got your pretty self hitting keys with an urgency; that licklack-click-clackallack, riding the train high off your pain, maybe some beats to keep your heartened. What started as a dream became your work in progress.

Now if it’s short blast, high frequency flash, sudden or smoke-long, well, you can pick up anytime and push it out. But if it’s longer form and you have that kinda stamina, well, it’s a momentum game. You will know it when you get there. Another cup of coffee. Don’t forget to sleep. Don’t forget to dream about it when you’re waking. All the time I swear I have it in my head, that WIP. Cause it works itself out, only slowly, with undivided dreaming the plot develops in my emotional darkroom. The container must be sealed, shielded from social media and the drag of everyday life. The fabric stitched together, then torn apart in places and replaced, reconnected to the whole drive, thematic.

The water will be charging you, ionic bond to the vision. Watch out for the dam. When the locks change you may not be able to get back in so easily. Requires extra effort and self-confidence, sometimes. You might break in through a window. Recall must be superb, almost perfect. Next time you get that puppy tail wagging -peeing with unharnessed shaking excitement- take her out to the park and set her free. Stand in the green spring grasses looking over your WIP with pride. Carry the momentum to see your vision through. Let the words take you, and the pain fall, away. By the end? I promise — the vision will carry you.