I read it, then I went to sleep, and had a dream that I was reading it and it had 83 likes. And I thought, "damn...junkman's getting popular."
We've talked about this privately but this is all something I've also struggled with. Why I write. Your writer's death meditation spoke to me. When I was very young, even before I started writing, or maybe towards the beginning of trying to write, I had this crazy desire to be famous. I just could not abide the notion of being forgotten. A gravestone with my name on it, but without having done something significant. This, I think, is at the root of much of my neuroses, though I do think I am starting to shed it somewhat. Though sometimes still, I think how I have not done many of the things I've set out to do and I get cold and clammy all over. It's like I've failed at life. It is something that eats at me.
So, too, the compulsion to write. It's something I just can't help. And the way I write is so much slower than other people that I find myself comparing my work to more prolific writers and it drives me crazy. I see people writing several essays a week and I toil years on a single novel. I don't get that constant dopamine hit of those writers who are just writing something new every day, yet there is something satisfying about wrestling with a project for years, really toiling at it, blood sweat and tears, and seeing it through to its end. It's a life project. To devote 5 years to one single thing. Rather than flitting from project to project like a bee from flower to flower. That is gratifying in it's own way. The single-mindedness of it. I've been thinking a lot about that lately.
This essay really resonated with me. Its something all artists seem to ponder. I’d love to know what the ancient cave artists thought about their work and about leaving it for future people to consider.
This was such a great read !
Thanks very much—I am glad you liked it.
Fantastic!
Thanks Ray. I appreciate you reading it.
Lovely!
Thank you, Eve. You are very kind.
This was a fantastic read. A few things--
I read it, then I went to sleep, and had a dream that I was reading it and it had 83 likes. And I thought, "damn...junkman's getting popular."
We've talked about this privately but this is all something I've also struggled with. Why I write. Your writer's death meditation spoke to me. When I was very young, even before I started writing, or maybe towards the beginning of trying to write, I had this crazy desire to be famous. I just could not abide the notion of being forgotten. A gravestone with my name on it, but without having done something significant. This, I think, is at the root of much of my neuroses, though I do think I am starting to shed it somewhat. Though sometimes still, I think how I have not done many of the things I've set out to do and I get cold and clammy all over. It's like I've failed at life. It is something that eats at me.
So, too, the compulsion to write. It's something I just can't help. And the way I write is so much slower than other people that I find myself comparing my work to more prolific writers and it drives me crazy. I see people writing several essays a week and I toil years on a single novel. I don't get that constant dopamine hit of those writers who are just writing something new every day, yet there is something satisfying about wrestling with a project for years, really toiling at it, blood sweat and tears, and seeing it through to its end. It's a life project. To devote 5 years to one single thing. Rather than flitting from project to project like a bee from flower to flower. That is gratifying in it's own way. The single-mindedness of it. I've been thinking a lot about that lately.
This essay really resonated with me. Its something all artists seem to ponder. I’d love to know what the ancient cave artists thought about their work and about leaving it for future people to consider.
Thanks for reading. There are a lot of archaeologists who would love to know that too!
I love this! Every bit of it, and especially the death meditations