I realized how, essentially, leaving my last post as it stood was the equivalent of excitedly holding up a book for the world to read with only the preface completed.
So, here's a poem I wrote back in October.
Game Of Inches
Displaying my exactness
Translates to distractedness
And suspending disastrous
Potential upon my slumber
For I’m told that by numbers
Does the player play
Baseball, shuffleboard and relay
Pinching inches, the young man winces,
His life he rinses away
But life is not a game of inches
Nor is it even a game
And yet the aspiring musicians and athletes we are
Will try to miss by not so very far
Monday, February 15, 2010
Funny Name For A Guy Who Can't Jump Very High...
Hello,
My name is Brad.
I decided to make a blog.
This is obvious, considering you are now reading the blog.
I've thought about making a blog for a while, but I had a lot of reasons floating around in my head that kept me from doing it, such as:
"There are already too many blogs out there, so no one will read it."
"It's a waste of time."
"It will give you too much of a sense of self-importance."
As far as the first one goes, I've decided that I don't care anymore. As far as the second two go, I'm going to try to keep tabs on whether these are going to be a problem for me. They very well may be. But I think that blogs are a cool way to share life with people, and I've thoroughly enjoyed reading other people's blogs, so I figure, since I like to write and express various ideas that I run into, I might as well have at it.
A (not so) quick side-note: I've found the idea of "expressing oneself" to be subtly interesting. Recently I read someone (I can't remember who it was) who said that they didn't have much interest in the idea of expressing themselves, but rather in writing to say what needs to be said, or something along those lines. Recently, I have seen this become one of the things I return to over and over when I write: my random musings are not anything special unless they say something about the truth that is, whether inside or outside of this universe. My writing can never have more meaning or beauty than God's truth or beauty. This is not because I am an unskilled writer or because I am not perfect or not interesting enough a person, but rather because of the central principle of human creativity: the fact that anything beautiful or meaningful is borrowing God's truth or beauty. This does not mean that writing has no purpose, but rather that its purpose is to frame things in a new light so that others might see them better. My hope is, even in the most journal-like of blogs that I post, I do not become like the self-indulgent painter in C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce who at the very gates of heaven could not forget her paintbrush and stand in awe and wonder, to whom painting everything became more important and interesting than the thing being painted.
That said, I think that writing (and essentially all forms of creative expression, for that matter) are immensely valuable; once again, they are windows through which things can be seen that the creator saw better than everyone else did. Sometimes, this is because the creator was born with a keen eye or has learned how to be observant, but even those who do not possess such vision have something to contribute, because everyone has a unique perspective. So, originality is very important: it's exciting, it makes sure you don't forget about something just because you're getting used to how the last guy said it.
You may find it humorous (I know I do, to a degree) that I speak of originality in this light because I tend to be a rip-off artist. Everywhere I go, I sing songs with lyrics that match what I see and hear. I've already stood on the shoulders of Lewis so far in this post to make a point. I hope that this manifests itself more as tribute and recognition of something well-stated or well-composed than as a lack of desire/ability to be original. There's a balance involved in this truth-originality thing, and sometimes the simple fact is that someone else has put it pretty darn well.
Anyway, what started off as a little tangent based off the concept of "expressing oneself" turned into a convenient way to explain where I'm coming from as a writer.
I don't know exactly what I'm going to post on here...I do plan to put some poetry and possibly some short fiction I write, and as far as what comes between, well, I guess we'll see.
The title for the blog (which I mulled about for about an hour and a half before deciding what it should be) actually comes from a song I'm writing right now. It's about how so many things in life seem to just say, everything good comes through balance and moderation--politics, economic policy, exercise, focus of study, blah blah blah--and how while this may be true, thinking of everything in your life as a game whose objective is to find the centers for all of your continuums gets you nowhere near living life to the fullest. This kind of thinking is typified by the ever-enthralling game series, The Sims--the whole point of the stinking game is to work your butt off trying to keep your little character's utilities in perfect harmony. But this is not what the real goodness of life is about at all--it has nothing to do with love, nothing to do with a spirit of joy. You've got to find the center of the continuum and then bust the hell through it into another dimension.
This has been a pleasure. I'm kind of excited about this now. I'm also kind of worried because I'm already neglecting my sleep schedule, erratic as it was in the first place.
Oh well.
My name is Brad.
I decided to make a blog.
This is obvious, considering you are now reading the blog.
I've thought about making a blog for a while, but I had a lot of reasons floating around in my head that kept me from doing it, such as:
"There are already too many blogs out there, so no one will read it."
"It's a waste of time."
"It will give you too much of a sense of self-importance."
As far as the first one goes, I've decided that I don't care anymore. As far as the second two go, I'm going to try to keep tabs on whether these are going to be a problem for me. They very well may be. But I think that blogs are a cool way to share life with people, and I've thoroughly enjoyed reading other people's blogs, so I figure, since I like to write and express various ideas that I run into, I might as well have at it.
A (not so) quick side-note: I've found the idea of "expressing oneself" to be subtly interesting. Recently I read someone (I can't remember who it was) who said that they didn't have much interest in the idea of expressing themselves, but rather in writing to say what needs to be said, or something along those lines. Recently, I have seen this become one of the things I return to over and over when I write: my random musings are not anything special unless they say something about the truth that is, whether inside or outside of this universe. My writing can never have more meaning or beauty than God's truth or beauty. This is not because I am an unskilled writer or because I am not perfect or not interesting enough a person, but rather because of the central principle of human creativity: the fact that anything beautiful or meaningful is borrowing God's truth or beauty. This does not mean that writing has no purpose, but rather that its purpose is to frame things in a new light so that others might see them better. My hope is, even in the most journal-like of blogs that I post, I do not become like the self-indulgent painter in C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce who at the very gates of heaven could not forget her paintbrush and stand in awe and wonder, to whom painting everything became more important and interesting than the thing being painted.
That said, I think that writing (and essentially all forms of creative expression, for that matter) are immensely valuable; once again, they are windows through which things can be seen that the creator saw better than everyone else did. Sometimes, this is because the creator was born with a keen eye or has learned how to be observant, but even those who do not possess such vision have something to contribute, because everyone has a unique perspective. So, originality is very important: it's exciting, it makes sure you don't forget about something just because you're getting used to how the last guy said it.
You may find it humorous (I know I do, to a degree) that I speak of originality in this light because I tend to be a rip-off artist. Everywhere I go, I sing songs with lyrics that match what I see and hear. I've already stood on the shoulders of Lewis so far in this post to make a point. I hope that this manifests itself more as tribute and recognition of something well-stated or well-composed than as a lack of desire/ability to be original. There's a balance involved in this truth-originality thing, and sometimes the simple fact is that someone else has put it pretty darn well.
Anyway, what started off as a little tangent based off the concept of "expressing oneself" turned into a convenient way to explain where I'm coming from as a writer.
I don't know exactly what I'm going to post on here...I do plan to put some poetry and possibly some short fiction I write, and as far as what comes between, well, I guess we'll see.
The title for the blog (which I mulled about for about an hour and a half before deciding what it should be) actually comes from a song I'm writing right now. It's about how so many things in life seem to just say, everything good comes through balance and moderation--politics, economic policy, exercise, focus of study, blah blah blah--and how while this may be true, thinking of everything in your life as a game whose objective is to find the centers for all of your continuums gets you nowhere near living life to the fullest. This kind of thinking is typified by the ever-enthralling game series, The Sims--the whole point of the stinking game is to work your butt off trying to keep your little character's utilities in perfect harmony. But this is not what the real goodness of life is about at all--it has nothing to do with love, nothing to do with a spirit of joy. You've got to find the center of the continuum and then bust the hell through it into another dimension.
This has been a pleasure. I'm kind of excited about this now. I'm also kind of worried because I'm already neglecting my sleep schedule, erratic as it was in the first place.
Oh well.
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