The Band Wagon: Some times I let it pass by, but today I'm hopping on. My mother had asked me some time ago if i would be interested in starting a blog in order to keep the family updated with regards to my comings and goings. I do have the habit (from time to time) of falling off the earth, and i think she was hoping this would be one way to make sure i didn't float away too far. I cant say i was too thrilled with the idea at first, seeing as the last thing any University student wants to do is add more written assignments and deadlines to their own lives.
So what changed you ask? During the month of November my "significant other" took part in National Novel Writing Month. He was charged with the task of writing a rough draft novel (at least 55,000 words) in under a month, and much to my amazement managed to do so in nineteen days. It should be mentioned that there no prizes for the competition asides from bragging rights and a few website/Facebook banners declaring you a "winner". While he spent most of November chained to a desk, i had a lot of time to think on why anyone would subject themselves to this level of torture. At first it seemed obvious to me that any recent graduate with degree in hand would no doubt have oodles of time to spend plunking out word after word desperately trying to beat the clock. Then it occurred to me (picture the Grinch realizing what Christmas is really all about) that maybe... just maybe, he did this for the shear love of writing! What a revolutionary idea this was! Not writing about the same thing as the three hundred other people in your class, not squeezing the margins or increasing the size of the font just to reach a certain number of pages, and most of all not writing about some dull topic tossed off by a Professor! Not some tired essay about Freud, or the Situational Effects of Social Interactionalism (my last coma enduing paper), but actually writing about whatever i feel like.
During this epiphany it dawned on me that once upon a time i actually enjoyed writing. I'm certainly not the next T.S Elliot, but as i see it writing can be exactly like the practice of yoga. It doesn't matter how deeply you take a posture, or how fully you realize the pose as long as you are taking it as deeply and fully as you can go. And so that's what this is about, stretching my writers legs and seeing how far they go. And maybe in the meantime I'll keep Mom up to date.
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2 comments:
Mat, love the robes but you can't be wearing that in Ottawa in winter and you need a tan. Come to Mexico! Jen
You would think that if i gave up the robes i could give up the vow of poverty as well, but until OSAP comes along I'll be forced to keep it. Nonetheless, Mexico is my first priority.
That and perhaps pants...
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