What sparks my creativity? What inspires me to write?
“Writing and travel broaden your ass if not your mind and I like to write standing up.” Ernest Hemingway
My summer excursion energized me in a myriad of ways, awakening all senses….. Travel is imperative for my growth, which in turn inspires me to write candidly about the life I create. I write to connect the dots (La la la la la!) of all that exists as I see it. For this trip, I deliberately chose The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway, for an extra dose of stimulation. The first time I read this book, the completely flawed characters, living in their dream world of denial, haunted me for years. The perpetual pessimism juxtaposed with an equal optimism for adventure is what intrigued me. Jake, Brett, Cohn, Bill, and Mike – are tragic, drunk with disillusion. But I secretly sympathized with them. Masking misery with wine and dysfunctional dialogue in rocky relationships was all too familiar. I agonized over Jake and the gang because I related to the madness…. oblivious to the holes in my soul, but acutely aware that something in me was amiss. Then came the realization that we are ALL quite flawed. Or to put it bluntly, whether we care to admit it or not, we are all fucked up on some level. I relate to the verity in Hemingway’s work, the pain, agony – fearlessness of the facts – delivered in simple, beautiful, gut-wrenching prose….
“All our words from loose using have lost their edge.” Ernest Hemingway.
I love to write, but I can be careless. I admit I did not read any tips or rules on blogging. Someone suggested it, so I just dove in. However, not without a constant barrage of self-doubt…. Is my pseudo free flow prose style of writing confusing? (I’m no Kerouac!) Will I ever understand the rules of grammar and punctuation? How do I address my overuse of colloquialisms and slang? Am I too wordy? Will I ever stop using ellipses and finish a thought? Am I redundant? Do I write with a purpose? Is my tone inconsistent? Why am I sharing this intimate path in a blog? So, if I am this uncertain... Should I continue to spill out my raw guts, for all to judge? Blogging keeps me present and honest. This is all authentically me, my process, and there is no shame in that. For the moment, I allow random ideas to flow. If I obsess with too much editing, the original intention dilutes into something unrecognizable. Why bother?
In honor of a few favorites, on a rainy afternoon, I leisurely sipped on coffee and a glass of wine at Le Dôme Café, in Montparnasse, Paris. Thoughts of Hemingway, Henry Miller, and Anaïs Nin swirled around my head. And I implored, spirit to spirit, to release any lingering inspiration for me to absorb by osmosis…..
Dear Ernest, thanks for sharing your blood, sweat, and tears. Thanks for reminding me that travel is essential, like water. How did I forget that? No matter. I know it now. New experiences unlock deeper emotions which fuel my ingenuity. Thank you for teaching me that it is acceptable to admit that I lived in hell and to admit that I am not perfect. Sorry that life became intolerable. I get it. But you advised us all to aim for authentic living….. And hopefully, I am evolving into an intelligent writer with a message. Or at least not spewing up bullshit. And I do write my blogs standing up!