Thursday, April 27, 2017

reading 2

Everyone is eating leftovers. Dad made the shrimp curry for older boy who is wolfing it down.
The house is placid with no demands for cooking required. Older boy visited with grandma who told him he looks good and not as plump as he was last time she saw him. Dad gave younger boy some clothes he had picked for him. Dad tends to buy younger boy shorts for the summer and shirts for older boy. Older boy got a hideous tie as well.
Right now the house is as quiet as a pancake on a pan. I have read most of the books I took out and they are OK. The speed reading I did was only possible because I skipped the parts that were boring.
The reasons for reading are to learn stuff such as how the heck do writers make books? You could simply write as I do but this doesn't get you the finished product and so there are steps in the process that I am missing.
I spent a great deal of time in the small forest near my home observing the land as I didn't have the chance to go to a creative writing course at the university. I decided to learn creative writing from observing the land and I learned how to simply walk and wait for the world to show itself. But after the observing bit what is the next step? I wrote and then tried to fine tune the thinking. There are other steps that I don't yet know but will learn by reading.
So for me, reading is a sieving process. I get to find out how other people think. Since most people will not tell me their interiors as this is private I have to go to books to find out their internal mechanisms of functioning. Biochemistry of thinking, feeling and operating is still not taught in college or university so I think this part must be something that you teach yourself and from the written works of other writers.
Writing is thinking that often fails. At least this is how it feels. I might write something and then give up on the work. Then I might come back to it later (hardly ever) and find out that the expression was off completely. It's hard to figure out how to use words. Its like you are a kid without any instruction on how to use a gun and are prone to firing it sometimes accidentally and getting into accidents.
Writing accidents can take you out of the writing habit but for me --writing is a sort of process that allows me to keep thinking. If I did not write I would not know how the neurons are taking in information and interpreting the data. Writing it all out makes some of the mystery of information processing clear to me at least if not to others.
Since we have so much information to feast on the library is my central source of most of my information. I think its a sort of palace where I am a sort of commoner granted special privileges to extract a brick of learning from the walls there. I am only at the walls of the palace.
Now that the day has broken into bits, the laundry is still not done and the boys are occupied after their meals and my finger still hurts I will go back to the books and soak in that stream.
It's the best part of being at home. You have a home, you have ten million books and you have a writing place.
And poetry is the way, poets confess.

CONFESSION 15604
Oil 60cm x 49cm £2,000
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