“All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.”
I've had my first official blog entry for just one day. I'd link you to it, but I don't know how to do that yet. I still haven't told many people about it either, but whatever. Baby steps. I've been fighting with myself about deleting it because this Pollyanna girl is a people pleaser. (So much for feeling free.) I don't necessarily want you to know what I'm thinking deep down because you might decide you don't like me after all. Plus (since this blog is all about honesty), sometimes I just feel like it's none of your business! But I give hints; I share bits. I write stories and songs, which may or may not give evidence to what's going on underneath everything. It depends on the song. It depends on the day.
For the past four years I've been singing standard jazz and blues music. I also have used the old romantic standards sung by the likes of Ella Fitzgerald as a model for my own writing. It is fabulously freeing and fun! (say that fast 10 times.) It's also a safe, easy way to hide behind clever or romantic lyrics that nobody says in real life. I love songwriting!
Years ago, I also used to write songs about things that really, truly mattered to me. I don't do that any more. Criticism can do that to a person. Now I'm finding, even though I still believe there is a place for lighthearted, romantic songs, that I've blocked my ability to go to that deeper, honest place in my heart and express it artistically.
So again, I go back to the purpose of this blog for me…to be the honest, no make-up, no fancy lighting, real me who's flawed and afraid. And to be cool with that!
A Facebook friend just recommended the poetry of Pablo Neruda today and after reading several poems, this one really struck me. I'll leave you with his words for the day:
“He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience,
dies slowly.
He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones "it’s" rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
dies slowly.
He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
die slowly.
He who does not travel, who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself,
she who does not find grace in herself,
dies slowly.
He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.
He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know, he or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.
Let's try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.
Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.”
- Pablo Neruda
p.s. I don't necessarily agree with the last line, but I'll tell you why another day. :-)
I "likeee" (had to add the 3rd "e", otherwise autocorrect made it "like", and I had to say that so you'd "like my spelling" :)
ReplyDeleteKater
I'm all for new, creative spellings! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteLet's go Polly!! Very brave!! And you picked one of my other favorite authors in Oscar Wilde! What's not to like?
ReplyDeleteThanks for turning me on to Neruda's poetry, David! and Oscar Wilde…he's just awesome.
Delete