06 February 2015

lines from my journal // 01


My friend once said to me, 

Anxiety isn't a feeling; it's a place you go. 

(I'll revisit this later.) 

But, suffice to say: I regard my journal on similar terms -- not so much an it as a where. And my journals are an odd, and funny, wonderful place. The lines are clear -- sometimes:

I am in Kansas City, Missouri.

The lines are obscure -- more often. 

The hills in front are mountains folded up. Gradually becoming blue. 

My journal is a place comprising half-made lists, sprawling ones, things overhead, lines from other writers, things out of place, excessive context or none at all. 

The lines, you can take at face value or not. But then there is the form -- were it a place, how funny it would be. Something like a carnival half on sea, half on hill, where a certain number of rides are spinning wildly out of control and a certain other number aren't running at all. 

(It is, to be certain, a rather uncanny reflection of self.) 

I remember my eleventh grade English teacher, 

Form follows function. 

And I think this was her pressing us toward clarity. Cohesiveness. 

(But how wonderful when function and form align to make something else. A marriage of purpose and performance to make...a mess by design. Or is that a contradiction?)

-- Either way, messy thoughts messily expressed are, still, delightful to me. 

8 comments:

  1. Can't read it silently and at the same time can't find words. Your writing is more like music, music for soul. Thank you

    ReplyDelete
  2. Messy lines and messy words, thoughts sprawled out on a page in no order whatsoever really are pretty delightful to look back on. It's like what's going on in your brain has been transferred directly through your arm onto a page. A train of thought is now visible, and it's there forever.

    -M
    The Life of Little Me

    ReplyDelete
  3. wonderful, thank you for sharing with us hun

    ReplyDelete
  4. A messy life is a beautifully chaotic one.

    ReplyDelete
  5. mmm that place called Anxiety. It draws me back ever so often. It's a strange place that one, but yes...more on that later

    ReplyDelete
  6. You are a brilliant writer, Bridget.

    ReplyDelete