Some thoughts on Writing not Serious by Bronwen Griffiths
I quite forgot I was due to write this blog so I dug out some pieces I wrote on writing. Take with a few pinches of salt.
I wrote something late at night almost as I was asleep. I
thought I must write it down because it was so profound and I might forget the
profound words in the morning. I was very pleased I had been so diligent and
written the words down rather than curling up and sleeping. But when I read the
words in the morning I thought them profoundly stupid. They made me yawn with
boredom, so much so that I had to sleep again.
When I near the end of my notebook I am always in a rush to
finish it so that I can start a new shiny notebook. The reason for this is
two-fold. Firstly, I have decided I will write neatly in the new notebook and
will not scrawl as I have done in all my previous notebooks which are now
numerous in number. Secondly I promise myself that the new notebook will only
be filled with wise thoughts, not ramblings and complaints. Of course the new
notebook quickly resembles all the other notebooks although it does have a nice
cover and was purchased in Malaga.
Oak tree writing
I have a vision of my writing. In this vision my writing is an
ancient oak tree with deep roots. It is both strong and flexible, and can
withstand storms. The reality of my writing is less impressive. It resembles
not so much an oak but is more like a worn, over-washed sock, full of holes and
without substance.
Story
They said my story was unfinished but I wanted to say, are not all stories
incomplete? Is that not the manner of them? But perhaps I have mixed up life
with stories. It is life that is always incomplete - until death comes - while
good stories wrap themselves up, neatly, like parcels.
Titles I have not
yet wrote
I think I will write these
stories. The Surprising Taste of a Peppercorn. The Gazebo of Possibilities.
The Cat and the Van Gogh hotel. Esme in her Dancing Shoes. The Strange Tale of
the Psychedelic Fish.
Sadly the stories remain
unwritten and only the titles remain, spinning through space like lost planets.
Bronwen is currently perhaps writing or perhaps not, depending on the day and the hour
Comments
Be well,
eden