Carolime Time

Writing for the love of it

God, I miss writing for the love of it. I never make the time these days, not even to write to myself. And when I do write to myself, they’re mangled indulgences text messaged to myself, often observations, regularly my internal conflicts. I am not emotionally nor mentally numbed, no, but I channel it…

…into… music, I guess. Yeah, I’ve played more music this year than I have in the years since I first picked up the guitar– 1998. And then, there’s always acting, when there’s an audition or when there’s a class. Few and far between, sad to say. Though it does feel good to express, be on stage, on set when the chance arises.

Anyway.. I do miss writing. It’s my first language in self-expression. It’s been about 6 months now that I have put my creative and personal pursuits with writing on the sidelines. I mean, I’ve written articles and I write for work on a daily basis. But there’s nothing like sitting down with a pen and paper or a blank screen and writing endlessly, with nothing on your mind. I can’t even read a page of a book lately without wondering about other responsibilities. In a way, I am grateful for the tiny disasters that make their way into my life because they snap me back to reality–the reality is, I come back here, I go back there, to where it all lies in plain sight for me to see and recognize, for words are more familiar to me than any other symbols. It feels so good even in this moment to spew the minute thoughts that fill my brain. Sometimes I think in script and dialogue, I imagine conversations that will never happen and weave descriptions, prose on foot…but there is nothing around for me to write on. My thumbs grow weary of my phone, the poor drafts section is overrun with weeds of good and not so good attempts with language.  And then there are people I meet, situations I am tossed into, where I am aching to write but I come home too tired or get distracted by other things. It’s so so so horrible. I think part of the problem is that I ran out of notebooks towards the end of the summer and I swore I wouldn’t buy anymore. I have a huge chest full of notebooks and paper, and then I have like, 5 online journals. What the hell am I to do with so much paper? Recycling aficionados would have a field day with my scraps.

OK I lied, I have written in the past months. But I guess I haven’t written anything I’m proud of or feel like sharing with people, outside of structured text. I like free flowing, free form words and raw thoughts that I can fiddle with.

I’m here, at 2am on a Friday night, sitting on my computer. I have to wake up in 6hrs!! On a Saturday morning:D And there are things that brought me here. I picked up a pen and paper yesterday and I immediately let loose, not with any prose or poetry, but rather I said everything I felt, to myself. It was not a lot, but it was enough for me.

So a few things I want to say here!

-the reason I’m so keen on writing before I sleep tonight is because tomorrow I’m going for a full-day writing workshop!! I’ve never been to one before and I can’t WAIT. I’ve never taken a creative writing class, I’ve been confined to print journalism and barely even that since I was in broadcast. So YAY! Looking forward to some kind of structure and developing some healthy writing habits.

-I just watched “Henry and June,” a film from Anais Nin’s POV concerning herself and Henry Miller, as well as his wife. Some of the lines in that movie were so eloquently put, the sort that make be flush with pleasure when words are used at their finest– I felt that way when reading Sylvia Plath’s journals, when watching Barfly–the biopic on Charles Bukowski and I feel that way with all good reads and wordplay.. maybe I’m easy, but these are my escapes and every girl has a few tucked into her hope chest.

-Speaking of escapes..I decided toward the end of this past summer that, next summer, I will leave the city and come back to Toronto for the weekends when my parents are there. I’m going to go up to my parents’  cabin and stay there, by the lake. We have this lovely wooden swing that I think about at times. dgdkglg,w. And it’s really quiet, there’s no one there. I can cook for myself, listen to music, play my guitar, go to the antique store when I need to…It would be nice to take someone up with me, especially since I might get scared living there by myself. Ideally I will overcome my fears by then.

-Oh and you wanna here the cherry on that– I’m going to get a typewriter! Yup.. After watching Henry and June tonight, I’ve realized the net is a huge distraction when writing. I don’t need the net for anything I write. Plus I like the sound, it’s soothing. I type really fast already. Yay!

Now the big question is…what will I write?

stay tuned…I’ve had a few ideas on the backburner for sometime….and honestly, as difficult as it is to believe, I do tend to clear things off that backburner;) the key is to put a lot of stuff on it and then worry that you’ll start a fire..or hope, rather..

PS. why do I get strange private calls at 2:45am on weekends?