Writing Dirty

A whole month! April has completely passed me by and I have not visited this blog once. I think it's because I'm still not completely sure why I'm doing it, and without a clear purpose, and without as much depressed free time I needed to distract myself from, the motivation's not quite there.

But going to Studio Fitz today for some informal piano performing and seeing Fitz's youtube channel full of all his amateur videos (and I mean amateur with none of the negative connotation--they are clever, experimental, and wonderfully uninhibited), made me excited to start something (anything) creative again. Like Fitz said, "If you're gonna do something, you gotta do it." I've definitely heard that sentiment before, about writing (and it goes without saying it applies to music as well). If you want to get good at your craft, you have to do it every day. You just have to. But if you're critical and inhibited, it can become a monumental feat to try to create. I think because I feel like I have a very clear sense of what I think's quality, I'm so afraid of not living up to it that I just freeze. Fitz's videos are great inspiration because he goes after every idea that pops into his head. Whether or not it turns into a gem, he won't know until it's done. So he just goes on faith. And a little bit on just not caring whether it'll be a work of genius or not. And I think that's just what you have to do with writing, too. A writer on a panel at a James River Writers event once made an analogy I like to think back to, about how almost every time she sits down to write, it's like she's diving into a dirty swimming pool. It's always covered with leaves, dirt, and algae but she has no choice but to stir it up a little before she can get to the beautiful clear water below (I believe her exact wording was something like "You've gotta wade through a lot of crap before you get to the good stuff"). You can't be afraid to get dirty.

At the very least, this blog serves the purpose of roughly documenting my time in Atlanta. I still remember a Joan Didion essay that really got to me where she talks about finding an old journal, full of a patchwork of recipes, poetry, and other flotsam and jetsam, and she values it so much because it reminds herself of who she once was. Not that you become a different person as you grow older, but the things that you spend your time thinking about, the things that really get to you from day to day, tend to shift and adapt to your changing lifestyle. So Didion writes to remember. Even if it is messy, and directionless, and sometimes just crap writing. I like that approach, so I'll be a great writer (according to Eliot) and steal it.