Sunday, January 18, 2009

thought dreams and new directions

Portrait prémonitoire de Guillaume Apollinaire (Premonitory Portrait of Guillaume Apollinaire). Giorgio de Chirico, 1914.

A new year has started, and I've been in a reflective mood lately, wondering what I'm actually doing in/with my life.

Part of that has means mulling over what I'm doing - and not doing - with ZONE. After blogging for almost two and half years (hard to believe), I'm still not comfortable with the process or the results.

The name ZONE comes from the title of a long poem by French poet Guillaume Apollinaire, and the first post on the blog was "A Word from Guillaume." The subtitle of ZONE is "improvisations on literature, music, film. . ." Yet there has been very little literature on my blog. Mostly because there's been very little literature in my life.

Somewhere back down the road, I burned out on "literature." For 25 years or so, I had tried my best to live "the writer's life," which meant writing all the time, devouring literature constantly, editing literary journals, and participating to one degree or another in the poetry scenes of various cities. And, most importantly, living in an open and creative manner.

Then, suddenly, it just stopped.

For a while, I blamed too many bad submissions and dull poetry readings for making me jaded. Having to read or listen to a lot of crappy, self-indulgent "creative work" can do that. Especially when some of it's your own. The whole process seemed pointless and terribly narcissistic.

Luckily, I've been able to meet some excellent and genuinely creative writers whose work I really enjoy. Interestingly, the only "literature" I've been able to stomach during during this time has been that of my friends. Otherwise, I think I've finished one novel in the last three years, and only cracked open a few books of poetry. I write very little beyond the bits and pieces on this blog, and my journal, which I used to keep regularly, has gaps of several months.

So . . . what happens when the thing on which you've based most of your life suddenly vanishes?

And what if that thing was deeply intertwined with your spiritual journey? Or was the spiritual journey?

A time in the desert, one might say. Actually, that's not true. Having spent a lot of time in the deserts of the American West, I can tell you that a desert is filled with much more beauty, excitement and life. My experience has been more like sitting in the dark on the floor of a closet for two years. Just nothing happening.

(Except then there's not floor to the closet. You just have to learn how to stay afloat.)

In the end, it's not about "literature." It's not the endless mediocre submissions I had to read for Terra Incognita, or poets reciting dull, lifeless work. It's me. I've been struggling with a profound emptiness that lies within myself.

We have met the black hole, and it is us.

(And I wonder why blogging doesn't satisfy!)

What does all of this mean for ZONE? I'm not sure. But I think I'm going to try some new things this year.

Bob Dylan, circa 1965.

When I was younger, I used to write spontaneous pieces/poems on a regular basis, just as a warm-up exercise, or a way to let out whatever needed to come out. I called these "thought dreams," after one of my favorites lines from Bob Dylan: "And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They'd probably put my head in a guillotine / But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only."

Perhaps going back to my "thought dreams" will help prime the pump of a well that's been dry, dry, dry. I hate to inflict the world at large with these pieces, many of which can be downright awful. But my desire to jolt the blog into some new directions - and my own need to publicly express/embarrass myself - makes me want to give it a try.

Also, I've been inspired by Steve Caratzas at The Blog of Lewd Enlightenment, who's been publishing a poem a day for over four years now. Quite an accomplishment. Especially for someone like me who can't even raise a flabby, atrophied arm to the poetic page more than a few times a year.

I'm not going to try and duplicate Steve's heroic effort. I'd like to knock out a few of these a week, if at all possible. And even that may feel like too much. But I want to do something different, head in some new directions.

Don't worry - ZONE is not going to become all bad poetry from a perplexed, dried up writer. I'll continue with the other things I've been doing as well. And hopefully get back to doing more film reviews.

We'll see what happens. I need to open some new doors. Head down some new paths. That's really what I really wanted ZONE to be about.

That's what I still want my life to be about.

(Below this post, my first attempt at reviving the thought dreams...)

10 comments:

crystal said...

I liked the poem - it really evoked a sense of place.

what happens when the thing on which you've based most of your life suddenly vanishes?

good question. one lots of people face when a loved one dies or their career goes away. what's left of us when the thing that defines us is no more? i felt like that after graduating with an art degree and then diagnosed with the eye disease. if you find an answer, tell me :)

anyway, glad you're going to keep posting.

Liam said...

As usual, you're probably being too hard on yourself, but I certainly understand the feeling. Grad school has almost completely knocked me out of poetry for almost seven years now, which I think in some ways is a good thing. When it's all over I'll be able to approach the whole thing with a different perspective, getting my ego out of the way and just doing it because it's a beautiful thing to do. In any case, I think some of the things you've written over the past three years or so have been great. The thought dream below is awesome. Crystal is right about it having a sense of place.

cowboyangel said...

Thanks, Crystal. The "place" is basically my mother's land in rural Texas. Don't know why that came out.

I guess you could say my career has gone away. Though it seemed deeper than a career. From a Buddhist perspective - from many perspectives, really - it's not a bad thing what I've been going through. It's like learning a new way to live.

Only I don't seem to be learning the new way.

I can only imagine that your experience was pretty devastating. I wish I could say more than that. But, as you can tell, I'm at a loss on how to deal with such things.

cowboyangel said...

When it's all over I'll be able to approach the whole thing with a different perspective, getting my ego out of the way and just doing it because it's a beautiful thing to do.

That's very much what I keep hoping for myself. I suppose I'm making a small attempt.

I look forward to the day when you are writing more poetry, or whatever you decide to write that's not your dissertation. I still feel that your miniatures have more life in them. Waiting to see where those go.

crystal said...

Only I don't seem to be learning the new way.

me too. Maybe in a way this is normal. We're like the disciples after Jesus was resurrected - they couldn't go back to what they were before and didn't know where to go next, so they went fishing, and couldn't even catch fish. But Jesus made them breakfast and then ...

I'm still waiting for breakfast :)

cowboyangel said...

they couldn't go back to what they were before and didn't know where to go next, so they went fishing, and couldn't even catch fish. But Jesus made them breakfast and then ...

That's great, Crystal. Made my day.

I need to go fishing...

Jeff said...

You sound a little down, Cowboy. Like Lennon said, life is waht happens when you've made other plans. There's more than just a few of us out there who had Plan A in mind and have wound up trying to work with Plan B.

As far as blogging goes, if you're going to take the time to do it (and we all know it does take a good amount of time) you have to do it for what you are interested in, not for what you think other people want you to do.

cowboyangel said...

Jeff,

I've always liked that line from Lennon. Not sure the idea behind it is really what caused me to burn out on literature. Related, perhaps.

I'm not sure it's really Plan A vs Plan B. That would be easier, it seems, to deal with. Not much choice most of the time, so you do what you do.

Whatever. Just sorting through some things.

you have to do it for what you are interested in, not for what you think other people want you to do

I think the problem is that I'm no longer sure what I'm interested in. Besides, of course, the fact that the Arizona Cardinals have actually gone to the Super Bowl. Now that's interesting.

Garpu said...

Echoing what everyone else has said...plus I've found when it's just me and my head voices, I tend to think everything I do is crap. Is it possible to join some informal poetry reading group? I'm thinking some feedback (that is, not the overly critical stuff we throw at ourselves) would be useful. I know if I can see that I'm connecting with someone, it makes it all worthwhile.

cowboyangel said...

Garpu,

Thanks for the suggestion. Two problems, I see, however: 1) I haven't been writing creatively (until I started these thought dreams), 2) just the phrase "join some informal poetry reading group" makes me ill at my stomach. I've done it many times in the past. It's generally a good idea. But I can't stand being around poets right now, with the exception of my wife and a few close friends, and they're all too busy to do a reading group.

Though everyone's comments have been helpful in some way, I find it interesting that no one has taken on the crux of my post: I've grown to hate "literature." How does that happen? What does it mean?

Sigh...