Writing And Productivity

It's been a few weeks since I made an entry here. I never really feel disappointed in myself when I take a long respite from writing anywhere I usually frequent. Rather, there comes a sense of familiarity, a feeling of renewed energy as I tackle what at this point is really nothing all that exorbitant. 


I do value consistency, of course, and I feel that if everyone took the time to do what I do- to set aside a half hour or 45 minutes per day to unload their feelings and ideas and general state in a brief missive, that one's view of their own life would be a lot more organized and stable. You can make useful decisions regarding the future if you know where you came from and where you're at, and writing provides that opportunity- to keep in carbon copy your attitude and your sentiment given the vibes of the day. And all that. 

People often ask me what it is an artist does exactly. If I had to break the artistic process down into concrete terms, I would argue that as with any other profession we provide a service of transformation- as the auto manufacturer processes raw steel and transforms it into cars, as the cheesemaker processes milk and butter and rennet tablets into cheese, artists transform sensory input into creative output. Our stock in trade is the assembly line of the mind. And it can be quite an assembly line if utilized properly and afforded proper care. Every sight, sound, and passing glance is routed in and altered to a varying degree, after which point it takes the form of the books, films and music we all recognize and enjoy. 

To that end I believe keeping a sturdy writing regimen is critical- one must not allow routine to bog them down, but should be grateful for the privilege modern word processing and Internet communication affords, and make use of it whenever possible. Language is not to be treated lightly, it should be honed and sharpened like a fine tool and employed as such. I often astonish myself with how many ideas I'm capable of formulating, how naturally they flow out of my fingers into these outbursts of communication. 

Even more astounding is the fact that I only type with my index fingers. Typing with all ten fingers at once, from my youth, has proven to be a daunting task, with too much coordination, and at a certain point (I believe it was after I was pressured into taking a typing course which accomplished nothing) I decided to let my two index fingers run loose over these delightful 26 squares. I may not have the fastest word per minute score- in fact, I believe mine is on the low end, although I haven't tested it in years- but what I lose in speed I make up for in agility and impromptu vocabulary. I can channel as much as five thousand words in one sitting without fatigue. I have subconsciously dedicated the layout of a keyboard to memory.

This, I think, is the secret of all good authors, novelists, and journalists- to know exactly what you're going to say and when to say it, to develop a typing cadence which is similar enough to your vocal pattern to be recognizable yet different enough to offer novelty, and to be confident in your headlong dive. You must face the task with a mixture of giddy anticipation and carefree delight, revel with every brief contact. Writing is an act of opening up one's head and spilling a dense soup of ideas all over the page, and I really dig that. 


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