Here’s to the Fools Who Dream

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Later on, I would find that this floundering was sense-making hard at work. Researching to figure out what you are researching… is still research. There is a certain amount of looking around and orienting yourself you need to do before you know what direction to head
Who will teach me to write? a reader wanted to know. The page, the page, that eternal blankness, the blankness of eternity which you cover slowly, affirming time’s scrawl as a right and your daring as necessity; the page, which you cover woodenly, ruining it, but asserting your freedom and power to act, acknowledging that you ruin everything you touch but touching it nevertheless, because acting is better than being here in mere opacity; the page, which you cover slowly with the crabbed thread of your gut; the page in the purity of its possibilities; the page of your death, against which you pit such flawed excellences as you can muster with all your life’s strength: that page will teach you to write.
The less beaten path is often less beaten for a reason. But if it feels right to take it – pushing aside the debris and brush and walk the trail because something, a bird or perhaps a ray of light, caught your eye – then take it.

rw-book-cover

Later on, I would find that this floundering was sense-making hard at work. Researching to figure out what you are researching… is still research. There is a certain amount of looking around and orienting yourself you need to do before you know what direction to head
Who will teach me to write? a reader wanted to know. The page, the page, that eternal blankness, the blankness of eternity which you cover slowly, affirming time’s scrawl as a right and your daring as necessity; the page, which you cover woodenly, ruining it, but asserting your freedom and power to act, acknowledging that you ruin everything you touch but touching it nevertheless, because acting is better than being here in mere opacity; the page, which you cover slowly with the crabbed thread of your gut; the page in the purity of its possibilities; the page of your death, against which you pit such flawed excellences as you can muster with all your life’s strength: that page will teach you to write.
The less beaten path is often less beaten for a reason. But if it feels right to take it – pushing aside the debris and brush and walk the trail because something, a bird or perhaps a ray of light, caught your eye – then take it.