I Swam Laps Today

     Looking over things I've written in the past, I realize now how uncomfortable I am whenever I write. Not that I don't like it. I just realized that the process of creation has always unsettled me. It carries a sense of responsibility. Whenever I set pen to paper or sit down to my computer, I pledge my time and energy towards the pursuit of some interesting thing, some representation of subject. Accuracy has never been a goal, simply because I don't have that streak in me. It'd be much safer to say that my habits have tended towards the reflective, towards the simultaneous goals of division and unity; the former for analysis and the latter for appreciation.

     In the past, I thought that art of any kind was meant to explore possibility, to dissect the ratios of thought and life and weigh them, without judgment, against one another. But now I feel that the purpose of art is to make life livable. I want to delve into that, but now isn't a good time for it. Right now, I'm trying to think about what I want to do. But I really feel limited by what I can do. I don't really know what I can make out of all this, but I know that it should lead somewhere. It might not be a direct line. Maybe the course will be mapped out by little explanations, jotted down one at a time when the moment strikes.

     Still uncomfortable, though. I'm always worried about how quickly a set of thoughts lose relevance. I'm comforted by my momentary attempts to "look at the bigger picture", but I've been constructing my life bit by bit and I've found it nearly impossible to write with any foresight whatsoever, other than blind foresight, eagerly reaching out into the void. A fancy game of craps. I think I'm uncomfortable with writing because I'm uncomfortable with being permanent. It's hard to write something and say to yourself, "Well, there it is. I wanted to do it and now I've done it." Then you have to leave it alone. You can always re-visit it, but it's done.

     I'd like to find something I feel enough passion about that I can write about endlessly in a directed manner. Something that I can focus my attention on long enough so that I don't have to worry about the questions of permanence. Maybe I need feel some permanence before I can expect any measure of it to show up in my work.

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