i dont know what it is about the random clicking that goes on on the ethernet here, but we always come back- look at me dear friend, not so nasty and full of piss as before as life does rain piss from sh*t-clouds.
for the creative writing part, we are part of this fraternity of masonry and illumination that none can easily join. our growing pains and initiation rites go hand in hand until we make it past the last semester and go into to the so-called real world with looming cathedrals made of money.
but the thing about the so-called real world is that it doesnt leave room for growth, only the inevitable countdown to death. and what did the hard paddles splintered on our quivering bare buttocks teach us? nothing.
we try to make the ride more interesting and so we write. we breathe words that lubricate our minds that determine the size of the universes that we dwell in inside and out until we are dust particles breathed in by highly evolved cephalopoda . i dont know what it is that keeps pulling me back here every couple of years yet again here we are eh? paddle hit after paddle hit, i come back somewhat the wiser. i agree with soul hugger there, we suffer from episodes of la petite mort. and i have grown less and less naive. oddly less and less creative. will you help me wash this ton of piss and sh*t that has weighed down my shoulders? will you make me naive again? i always, always looked up to you and i am at a stormy crossroads as well. the cathedrals loom and tower and glower at us, beckoning us into their belly of catacombs.
What is creativity anyway? Maybe it is the palette of insanity... the brush you use when paint is applied easily and simply, when the picture draws itself. Or, it is the outpouring of some excess emotion. But what happens when you stop finding things to express; when life either improves or degenerates to the point where inspiration seems impossible to find? What does that mean for us in terms of our writing?
In my own "falling in and out of love" with creative writing, I have found in the end it was only the process I fell out of love with. While the romance faded, the desire remained, a bittersweet fragrance never failing to evoke death. Most often the cause was a small death, the passing of a fragment of self; and usually the part I depended on as the engine of the operation: sensitivity, awe, innocence, naivety; one at a time slipping by the wayside.
I'm in that stage now too, deciding whether or not to go on, and if so, how. The old ways no longer work, and the new have yet to replace. It's like starting over.
I'm not sure why you are falling out of love with creative writing. But I did notice you said "creative writing," and not writing itself. Maybe there are other things you can work on in the meantime. Being a person with as many interests as things and a feeble attention span, I can understand this well. I tend to burn bright and burn out, as when something interests me I can think of little else. But when the going gets tough, I lack the stick-too-itiveness to stay the course through the oft-boring stages of completion. The technical stuff seems to go against everything creative writing is supposed to be about. Maybe that's where the limitation lies? Maybe growth does not always have to be linear or progress even.
What I do know is that I have read your work and enjoyed it well. I believe you are considered one of the foremost poets/writers on this site. Poetry is one of the hardest forms of writing. It has to say so much with so few words and has little room for extraneous development. Where long stories are a pair of glasses and short stories binoculars, poems are a microscope. Perhaps you are ready to switch tools?
I could be totally off base here, and don't totally understand why you chose ...and the winner is... for a title, but I wonder if it is something about perseverance in the face of a lack of love.
Well i know there are ups and downs in poetry I've experienced them myself. I'm not sure why you have decided to fall out of love with writing but this is the first poem I've read of your's and its pretty good, lots of metaphors and it took me some time to understand the phrases you were using to get your point across. I would like to know why you titled it... and the winner is
maybe love doesn't have to be a continuous process to be beneficial? i'm not trying to contest here but i've always enjoyed your work. be that no factor in your decision making, if you don't want it to be, but i think you've done some incredible things with it.