Here I am, back at the keyboard. As always, I start with the confessions. I'm excited and nervous, as if I were preparing myself for the second date with someone I really like. I missed this ritual. Getting my headphones, finding the right playlist, relaxing and starting to write. I’ve realized how valuable these dates with my laptop are. The importance to reflect and to place your ideas into words is truly rewarding. My past blog was about reading, this one will be about its brother: writing.
For me, writing is like talking. And to talk, one must know how to sing. To sing, you must first open your mouth. You must have two lungs and some knowledge about music. You do not need an accordion or a guitar. The essential thing is to be willing to sing. This is, then, a song. I am singing.
In writing, one can manipulate the structure of the sentences: the melody. A sentence can be long, and that’s fine, since you must vary the natural rhythm of the entire article. However, if you abuse of these types of sentences and you do not chose the correct word-choice, then your voice becomes gradually monotonous: as it is becoming now. Who likes a song with only one beat? No one. Who likes a song with sassy and ordinary lyrics? Only those that do not appreciate good music. I, however, unlike many, do not sing for the audience. See, in the ordinary sense of the word, this isn’t a blog. It is a libel, a slander, a defamation. It is if you will, an insult to the art of writing, to men, to time, to beauty… it is anything you think it should be. My “blogs”, which I like to call songs, can be interpreted in many different ways, they might be prodigious for some and crap for others, but I don’t write for these people; I write for myself. In the IA we learn to accept feedback, but this is not about that. It goes beyond such idea.
Through criticism we may improve the practical matters: say, grammatically wise. But it is more difficult to embrace our ability to reflect and to open ourselves in a white screen that is exposed to the entire Internet. I am really proud of all my IA friends, who have been able to confess their deepest terrors through their websites. We have been so engrossed in our ideas, in our writing, that we have forgotten the exposure we have to the outside world. This is, I believe, an awesome thing. Through writing we have known ourselves better. Or in other words, we have become ourselves again. We have learned how to sing.
For me, writing is like talking. And to talk, one must know how to sing. To sing, you must first open your mouth. You must have two lungs and some knowledge about music. You do not need an accordion or a guitar. The essential thing is to be willing to sing. This is, then, a song. I am singing.
In writing, one can manipulate the structure of the sentences: the melody. A sentence can be long, and that’s fine, since you must vary the natural rhythm of the entire article. However, if you abuse of these types of sentences and you do not chose the correct word-choice, then your voice becomes gradually monotonous: as it is becoming now. Who likes a song with only one beat? No one. Who likes a song with sassy and ordinary lyrics? Only those that do not appreciate good music. I, however, unlike many, do not sing for the audience. See, in the ordinary sense of the word, this isn’t a blog. It is a libel, a slander, a defamation. It is if you will, an insult to the art of writing, to men, to time, to beauty… it is anything you think it should be. My “blogs”, which I like to call songs, can be interpreted in many different ways, they might be prodigious for some and crap for others, but I don’t write for these people; I write for myself. In the IA we learn to accept feedback, but this is not about that. It goes beyond such idea.
Through criticism we may improve the practical matters: say, grammatically wise. But it is more difficult to embrace our ability to reflect and to open ourselves in a white screen that is exposed to the entire Internet. I am really proud of all my IA friends, who have been able to confess their deepest terrors through their websites. We have been so engrossed in our ideas, in our writing, that we have forgotten the exposure we have to the outside world. This is, I believe, an awesome thing. Through writing we have known ourselves better. Or in other words, we have become ourselves again. We have learned how to sing.