Wednesday, November 25, 2009

" Lady, just calm down and drop the brush."

There is a great little book called ' You Know You're a Writer When....' by Adair Lara. It's full of things writers answer in response to the titles question. I bought it a few years ago. It made me laugh because I know what they are saying. Reading these things again today brings tears of recognition to my eyes as I snort with laughter. "
When I was at my critiquing group the other day, I discussed the difficulties of being a writer and illustrator. I mentioned that I had thought about being mostly one and not the other. I say mostly as it feels like a bit of a betrayal even think about giving one of them up. HOWEVER, if I imagine myself as a writer who doesn't do much artwork, I can live with that. It doesn't really bother me (And I'm a bit surprised about that) But,if I imagine being an artist who doesn't write much, a wave of panic comes over me. And so though it almost makes me cry to say this, I think being a writer is what I really want to be. And I have to admit here that some of those near tears, those waves of emotion I think are of relief.
Here's something else that makes me realise I am a writer. I used to laugh at people who talked to themselves. You know, that little commentary people do about what they're doing or something they said to someone. I always thought that was weird. But I realised with shock that I write lines in my head all the time and I never, ever stop daydreaming. I am always taking in something happening around me and then taking off on another tangent of possibility. I 'see' little stories and scenes in my head all the time! As moronic as this revelation sounds, I just didn't realise I was doing it because I do it all the time! What's with the artwork then? Ok, I'm starting to have my suspicions. OK, picture a child who talks a lot, reads a lot, draws a lot. She's five say. She likes writing too but she's only just learning to put tiny sentences together. The grown-ups praise her about the things she does well (except the talking and daydreaming!) but it is the pictures that get more praise because she can draw better than she can write yet and it's the drawing that goes on the fridge and on the wall at school. She writes stories now and plays and still does the other things and is praised in it all BUT the drawing gets most attention because it is easily seen. It is easy to compare to others. It is more easily tangible, more easily commented on. All this goes on and on. In highschool she does 3 unit English and 3 unit art. She enjoys them both and does well in them both and is praised in both. However I see something telling about those teen years. As I suffered the throes of teen angst it was in the arms of writing that I consoled myself. I did do an occasional expressive piece of art but mostly I wrote poetry and verse. Funnily I think of my HSC piece which got a poor mark and the work of a girl's who did well. At the time i thought her piece was a silly mix of abstract swirls and faces. I look back and realise hers was full of emotion, mine was well executed but as stiff as a board and totally emotionless. My writing at home was however was full of feeling. And so I have continued. My art is not too bad but most of it when I think about it, is emotionless with the exception of a few I did under the influence of powerful music. In my writing I have always tried to impart some meaning, convey an emotion. I never really doodled with drawing either. I wrote words down.
What if the thing that holds me back as a writer is trying to be an artist too? Mentally I turn off one tap to see what it feels like. The remaining tap explodes with the force of this new single channel and I am suddenly bursting with excitement and energy. What if the thing that has had me chugging at half speed all this time was my artistic 'talent'. God has there ever been for me such an irony?

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