September 2024 Update
The summer has come and gone. It is amazing how long and how short two months can feel. I am glad that my wife and I decided not to travel during the summer, because it felt like a real summer. The transition back to school has been lower stress, but it is still a big schedule change, and I haven't handled the hours alone (with baby) as well as I would like. Still, it is nice to have more or less predictable work times (baby naps). Though they are not always work time, since there are chores, and sometimes I am just tired (or mischievous). Have been ruminating on a quote from Steinbeck in the East of Eden Journals, in which he says that “one must distort one's way of life in order in some sense to simulate the normal in other's lives,” because sitting down to write is a distortion of life, but one I can't seem to live without for very long. If I were normal I wouldn't view baby naps as “writing time,” but then, how many of us are really normal?
Writing
Work goes on. I have been more or less consistent in at least staring at the work every day. I am getting towards the end, and I am trying to let it take its own pace. I don't want to speed it up in order to be done, or hold it back so that I never have to admit that it's done. After the drafting there will of course be re-writing and editing, but I feel very little control over the initial vision. Maybe that sort of thinking is a defence mechanism. Steinbeck also said writing is “a real horse's ass business,” and I feel that too.
Music
Still playing, though I have been choosing to let my obsession with guitar and sound distract my intention to produce an album. Haven't done much work there, though I did revive an old hymn I wrote in college, and our church is going to let me sing it there. I suppose I am proud, but I don't want to be. Performing in church is (supposed to be) very different, since the purpose is different. I no longer think a worship team can be “invisible,” but they are still there to worship, not show off. I just want to be honest. I have also been thinking that I ought to try earning something from my rather costly hobby-obsession. Browsed a couple gig-finding sights.
Audiobook
I did finally record two chapters, edit them, and put them on Patreon. Hopefully there will be more this month.
Reading
Still reading The Possessed and Middlemarch. Has been a lot of fun to do Middlemarch with my wife. It gives a shared experience to talk about, and since we both love reading it is a real pleasure, much deeper than just watching a show together. And George Eliot is a titan. She has no fear, and can't seem to care less whether the reader can scale her mountains or not, which makes scaling them so much more exhilarating, and the views seen from the heights that much more earned. I wonder if we could get more people to read classics by challenging their ego a bit, much like a lot of people seem to start playing Dark Souls in order to prove that they can beat it. If only it gets them to start, it will be worth it. The only difficulty is finding the right classic, because reading the right classic can set you off on a lifelong passion, whereas reading the wrong one can put you off for the rest of your life.
Watching
Probably the most affecting thing I watched recently is Kiki's Delivery Service, a Studio Ghibli film about a young witch who leaves home at 13 to make her fortune in the world. I really wasn't prepared for how much this movie would hit me in the artist. While it is about a lot of other things, I couldn't help view Kiki's struggle to establish herself as a young witch as the struggle of an artist to establish and define themselves before any kind of worldly success. Her ability to fly is her artistic talent, and while it is remarkable, it is not enough to guarantee her success on its own. Kiki has to work hard and rely on the kindness of others before she can get her feet, and she has to prove to people that her dream of establishing a delivery service is worthwhile. The scene which is the climax of the movie illustrates the struggle of art beautifully, when Kiki has to steal a man's broom and crouch in the street, trying to fly. Everyone thinks she is insane, until she flies. The practice of art is a little insane, writing certainly is, and most of the people around you don't think it worthwhile (or if they do, they still can't help resenting the time and attention it steals from them). And even when Kiki takes off she does so clumsily, bouncing into walls and bowling people over. But then, in persevering, one hits on a miracle, like Kiki catching the boy before he falls to his death, and it all makes sense.
Here is the full quote from Steinbeck's journal to end this entry:
Thank you for reading! I greatly regret that I will most likely never be able to meet you in person and shake your hand, but perhaps we can virtually shake hands via my newsletter, social media, or a cup of coffee sent over the wire. They are poor substitutes, but they can be a real grace in this intractable world.
Connect with me: