I was gonna toot my own horn. I've been looking for this post for a few minutes because I realized this morning the dreams have not changed, the route I am taking to them becomes clearer and clearer. I do a dance of joy at least once a week now.
The dreams have not changed, the process of achieving them is seasoned. I have not been doing nothing. I have been laying a solid foundation that is level and strong.
I will leap with my eyes wide open and land without knowing anything except my feet are on the Earth, this beautiful Earth. -TTW Leap
I'm reading Leap right now and it's resounding inside of me the way our choral voice did inside the anciently perfect church halls in Holland. Echo echo echo and dim. Terry Tempest Williams' writing in this memoir of spirit and art is lyrically prosaic and tends toward streams of consciousness. It is simply astounding. She examines the masterpiece of Hieronymus Bosch (c. 1450–1516), called The Garden of Earthly Delights by beginning inside one of the thousands of images presented in the painting, moving out, and then coming back in again: over the horizon in the painting, or from within the woods. She uses the painting to examine the human condition, in general, and herself, through her experiences and imagination. It's an exhilarating piece of work.
click here for an image of the paintings
I was reading more of this book last night when her voice began ringing like those choral sopranos, high and clear, like bells in my head, incessant, and an idea for a book came to me. Wow. I've never had a real book idea before. The idea is reminiscent of what Kaufman did in Adaptation: "Charlie Kaufman writes the way he lives... With Great Difficulty. His Twin Brother Donald Lives the way he writes... with foolish abandon. Susan writes about life... But can't live it. John's life is a book... Waiting to be adapted. One story... Four Lives... A million ways it can end." (imdb) Adaptation vexed me the first time I saw it. I remember complaining that Kaufman willfully broke every rule about writing one can break in that movie. I watched it again and realized I'd missed the joke. I watched it again and became breathless with the brilliance of writing your story from inside the story you already wrote which was inspired by another writing.
It's a complex idea in it's infancy - perhaps like a real fetus. I have no idea if what I'm looking at is a spine or lungs and I'm not even sure it'll live long enough to be born. The idea of committing to actually writing an actual novel is terrifying. Actually no, it's enlivening. Actually, yes, it's exactly both.
Good. Glad I cleared that up.
I'm being totally vague because I'm somewhat aware of a tradition of secrecy which a writer might subscribe to to protect her ideas. Shelter them. Grow them. Anyway - this is a rambling post. I have all kinds of syntheses going around in my brain and of course, I'm at work - the last place one "should" really blog (or write seriously). I almost want to make a list to remind myself with later, but subject you readers to it? Is that subjective? Do you mind or is it interesting? People like picking up random strangers lost notes on the ground, so maybe you all would like reading my random list of thoughts...
I used subjective wrong up there didn't I...?
I got really twisted up over finances again this past weekend. I let it go to the degree I should and laughed at myself last night. I have a mental diagram in my head (and sketchbook) which is in three parts:
1. notice that there is a tornado of thoughts swirling around your head making you dizzy and/or crazed
2. use your hands (metaphorically, energetically, whatever) and get a grasp on the general whirling cloud feeling surrounding your head
3. lift it off and hold it out at a distance. look at it. laugh.
This morning, I compared the stuck thought/obsessive thinking I afflict myself with to a twist in yoga. You twist in yoga to help detox. You twist around and slow or hold up blood flow in the body area you're working on. You twist and hold, creating a bit of a block in your flow, then breathe and release and all the old stagnant stuff gets rushed out and refreshed by new circulation, energy, and breath. You twist, hold, deepen, release, breathe to refresh. Sometimes I get stuck. Sometimes I get held up and blocked. It deepens and I feel I might crack open, maybe I do with some crying. I release, breathe, and remember to laugh. Life doesn't need to be difficult. It just doesn't.