...and this year I will not be in the midst of a move back east. I am settled back home in New Haven and ready to write. I've also decided to combine the two selves of my poetry life into one. I used to write to help me process whatever I was feeling or going through. I wrote emotions with an unbridled pen. It was like I was using poetry as a diary. So much intense and personal stuff.
Then, I got to college, majored in English, and saw a completely different side of writing. One where the surface of the water was calm, but underneath, you knew there was a shark hunting its food. You could feel the danger of a poem without seeing it on the surface. And I began to write about less personal stuff, but subjects that meant a lot to me, and made me feel a lot, without being so damn whiny. I found that in exploring the other people's lives, imaginary or not, I found my own poetic voice. I started using writing as a vehicle to help other people feel something powerful, and stopped using it as my therapy. And, in doing that, I found a balance that is so, well, I don't have the words for it. I feel like I am in the best place in my writing life, that I know what I want to say, and I say it well, most of the time.
I've decided that I can now write about the "personal" without getting so overwhelmed by the emotions I feel when I think about situations. I feel like I can finally write about my father, like I can finally fit what I'm feeling on an 8 1/2" x 11" page, and those of you who know me know what's going on with him. I can write about him and not be blinded by what I feel. This marriage of my two selves will be turblent, but necessary. It's time I stop filtering what I write about, and let the words just come to me, no matter who or what they are about.
So, I'm ready to write. I hope you all enjoy the ride.
