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The first posting I uploaded was about my gratitude to a technical support officer of an internet provider company. That was one year ago this month, this week. Rewind a week earlier, I took an oath to make a short writing a week, a total target of 52 writings a year. This piece is a private celebration for the 33 pieces uploaded and the missing 19.
For The Thirty-Three
Being informally responsible to produce songs for his bands, Dave Matthews spent five hours a day for years practicing writing lyrics. He always felt lousy at it. Considering how their first three studio albums turned out -especially my favorite piece: Lie In Our Graves- it’s scary to think that Mr. Matthews chose the term ‘lousy.’ Rumor has it that Tony Hawk spent ten hours of skating practice for years of his teenage days. He was a magic rookie. Only after months of participating in various skateboarding competitions, the 17-year-old Hawk beat Christian Hosoi and Steve Caballero, two living legends of skating world in the late 80’s. I read many books about extraordinary people as I love historical events and the people in it. Reading about these people, I realize that I envied their accomplishments probably only for a matter of hours. I do, however, envy something else more and I envy it permanently.
The best parts of these books are the endless chapters of their descriptive statements on their ordinary daily experiences. It was amazing how they could be so articulate about what and how the little happenings in their life meant for them. The words they chose fit perfectly as if they were tailor-made in the dictionary for each of them, and for each of them only.
In his addiction years: Dave Matthews managed to come up with something as solid as this[1]:
For The Thirty-Three
Being informally responsible to produce songs for his bands, Dave Matthews spent five hours a day for years practicing writing lyrics. He always felt lousy at it. Considering how their first three studio albums turned out -especially my favorite piece: Lie In Our Graves- it’s scary to think that Mr. Matthews chose the term ‘lousy.’ Rumor has it that Tony Hawk spent ten hours of skating practice for years of his teenage days. He was a magic rookie. Only after months of participating in various skateboarding competitions, the 17-year-old Hawk beat Christian Hosoi and Steve Caballero, two living legends of skating world in the late 80’s. I read many books about extraordinary people as I love historical events and the people in it. Reading about these people, I realize that I envied their accomplishments probably only for a matter of hours. I do, however, envy something else more and I envy it permanently.
The best parts of these books are the endless chapters of their descriptive statements on their ordinary daily experiences. It was amazing how they could be so articulate about what and how the little happenings in their life meant for them. The words they chose fit perfectly as if they were tailor-made in the dictionary for each of them, and for each of them only.
In his addiction years: Dave Matthews managed to come up with something as solid as this[1]:
Twenty three, I’m so tired of life
Such a shame, thrown it all away
Images grow darker still
Could I have been anyone other than me.
Such a shame, thrown it all away
Images grow darker still
Could I have been anyone other than me.
It was a horrible thing to write and the topic of pathetic life is devastatingly a cliché. But the words chosen and how they were sequentially put, took away the cliché feel. When a thought is shared in a subjective fashion it will leave a beautiful scent, no matter how horrible the topic is.
Several years after his addiction life-stage, Dave wrote another song describing his new exciting, fruitful and contented life. He wrote[2]:
Several years after his addiction life-stage, Dave wrote another song describing his new exciting, fruitful and contented life. He wrote[2]:
I can’t believe that we would lie in our graves
Wondering if we spent our living days well
I can’t believe that we would lie in our graves
Thinking of things that we might have been
Wondering if we spent our living days well
I can’t believe that we would lie in our graves
Thinking of things that we might have been
It was a statement of happiness in a way I have never encountered before.
The same level of detail and articulation reflected from every person whose biography I’ve read[3]. I think that their obsessions did that to them. If someone experiences little things for hundreds of time, what else would become of him/her but articulate? I envy that about them and I want such a life feature for myself. It is the reason I copy their habit of making sense of little things in my passing days. It is why I named it on daily basis.
For The Nineteen
Steven Martin, comedian / writer / actor / (now also) director, once wrote that a writer’s block was nothing but a fancy term made up by whiners so they can have an excuse to drink alcohol. As I’ve been spending a paranoid year, going through each day anticipating something writeable from anything that came my way, I come to a suspicion that there may be a big truth to what Mr. Martin said. Not a single day went by that I didn’t have anything to write. Many things happened, and many of them I can somehow feel connected. Each day, I look forward to write them down.
The problem was that despite the interconnectedness, I have no idea how to put them within a silver line. I spend many nights sitting facing my laptop, jotting down notes of what happened making sure nothing is left behind, preparing the next articles. When my weekly deadline comes closing in I would review the notes. Often I was too excited reading them and remembering the items written. Reading a-week-note is like watching movie in fast forward. It’s like walking backward a step at a time to get an appropriate distance so that the gigantic picture in front becomes clearer and clearer. It’s like the more memories retrieved, the more backward step I earned. The more I gradually get what the picture is, the more excited I am. And it’s hard to give it up.
I had to choose between writing (that means giving up the good feeling of reviewing the notes), and screwing the deadline (and go ahead with reading the notes). So I lost 19 pieces.
The same level of detail and articulation reflected from every person whose biography I’ve read[3]. I think that their obsessions did that to them. If someone experiences little things for hundreds of time, what else would become of him/her but articulate? I envy that about them and I want such a life feature for myself. It is the reason I copy their habit of making sense of little things in my passing days. It is why I named it on daily basis.
For The Nineteen
Steven Martin, comedian / writer / actor / (now also) director, once wrote that a writer’s block was nothing but a fancy term made up by whiners so they can have an excuse to drink alcohol. As I’ve been spending a paranoid year, going through each day anticipating something writeable from anything that came my way, I come to a suspicion that there may be a big truth to what Mr. Martin said. Not a single day went by that I didn’t have anything to write. Many things happened, and many of them I can somehow feel connected. Each day, I look forward to write them down.
The problem was that despite the interconnectedness, I have no idea how to put them within a silver line. I spend many nights sitting facing my laptop, jotting down notes of what happened making sure nothing is left behind, preparing the next articles. When my weekly deadline comes closing in I would review the notes. Often I was too excited reading them and remembering the items written. Reading a-week-note is like watching movie in fast forward. It’s like walking backward a step at a time to get an appropriate distance so that the gigantic picture in front becomes clearer and clearer. It’s like the more memories retrieved, the more backward step I earned. The more I gradually get what the picture is, the more excited I am. And it’s hard to give it up.
I had to choose between writing (that means giving up the good feeling of reviewing the notes), and screwing the deadline (and go ahead with reading the notes). So I lost 19 pieces.
1 comment:
I like your blog. Just read the first three articles and they're entertaining and well-articulated, yet easy and simple. Just wondering how in the world did you manage to do it while all the busy schedule living in jakarta the city of hirukpikuk and too-much-to-do-but-too-little-time-coz-even-the-traffic-is-unbelievable.
how have you been, dih? Missing the intelligent conversations (although, I'd say it's more of your intelligent monolouges, and me listening attentively). Well, I'll be going home soon (end of 2005), and was wondering what I should do after I graduate... any suggestions?
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